[WHEN THE HEROES WERE WRONG]

PROLOGUE: The Issue

~

IDALIA:

Upon the numbing floor, I urged to my feet. Clicks and clacks rushed down the never-ending stark hallways. Beyond the corridors, the flying papers stretch out far further into what seems to be the end. 

I brushes my crimson stained digits off against my cuffed sleeves. Examining each and every paper for something- anything I could gather into extending my stay at this so-called "hotel." 

It would be what I was worth.

After what I thought lasted forever, I uncracked a crumpled up and blood stained paper that originally been elegantly folded; it still existed and creased the paper in disregard. I read it to myself.

 The handwriting was rather messy and likely more illegible than a doctor's penmanship, but I could make it work. The date was ripped off, but the title read, "The Issue."

Isabell D: The Issue

Dear Diary,

My neighbor never fails to disappoint me. Those deceiving emeralds of eyes swooned mamãe even after the first few times they've crossed ways. There's not enough words to express the pure hatred against this random man-- I mean boy, because men are more mature than he'd ever be. His lies always scratched under my skin.

 I always ask myself why it has to be this way. When I asked Sunny this, she only said "..It's what needs to be done. We hold all these burdens and secrets we are challenged against to learn and mature."

I then told her that I'm only ten years old and if maturing is such a good thing since she's mature herself-- at least in my eyes. She was silent after that.

Day by day ever since that neighbor and mamãe keep meeting, the premonitions in my head get louder. Is it something in his tone? His appearance? He has told during a shared dinner that he has quite an.. interesting record tied to his name. That may be why she had fallen for him.

I feel as if I've reached a dead end in a forested maze. However, you can't just turn around in this situation. That's not how it works.

You'd have to walk through the thorns, I assume?

My name is Isabell D, eleven years old, with a sister named Sunny D. Goodnight, Diary.