Taylor and Victor

Chapter 34

Victor

Maybe he could never experience such regret in his life. All the guiltiness, distress now finally making way to him as they should. But Victor still wasn't sure if this was for Taylor, or for her.

He tried not to think about his sister. But every time he's faced with her present, things become déjà vu. Even a little act or when he saw her crying, he started to become remorseful.

He picked up a newly leather diary, one he was so obsessed with. A year with him trying to be a detector. But he soon put an end to it. If he could be someone more wise, more intelligent, Victor would make his chance to unfold them. But he knew better than anyone that day will never come.

Now everything he did will never come to conclusion. They'll remain an unsolved mystery, vanished stories that could haunt him for unknown reasons. Always linger around in every corner of his life.

He picked up his coat, put in and secured the zipper. Victor headed down to his garage. There's a little creeped feeling, in the dark suffocated room. He turned on the light, revealing mechanical tools of his father, with a metal cabinet for storage. His mother had shelves of plants and trees which she'll never planning to get them out in the sunlight packed in one corners. Victor passed his brother's motorcycle, picked up a shovel from the gardening equipment, and walked out with both the shovel and his notebook in hand.

Further from the street, separated behind their local park, he walks deep inside the wood. Beside him, he could be sure no one cared enough to be here. On the other side of the wood was a cemetery, and the opposite side was a park. And the place in between them is isolated by the creeped sensation.

He walked to an empty spot behind the oldest willow tree he thought it was. There used to be an abundant amount of rabbits wandering around. How they were executed remains a question he doesn't want to answer, whether they moved, or vanished.

Victor placed his notebook on the soft grass, kneed down to the ground. He put on leather gloves from his coat's pocket, started to use the shovel to dig up dirt little by little. He kept on doing the work until there's a four inches deep down, revealing a wooden box. An white wooden box but stained brownish by dirt, with silver lines running among its edge. Vitor unlocks the box, still placed inside the ground. He puts his notebook in. Despide dusk blowing in, he didn't care enough and just closed the lid, locked it again.

He covered it up again before standing up, brushing his knee and his hands together. Victor's staring down, nostalgic for a second. Around, up in the air, there's somewhat of her spirit, haunting around here in the woods.