Secrets of the lost past

Chapter 40

 Aria

1892. May 18th

It has officially been three years since Darius died, I came here six years ago for the first time ever. The whole group became old, everyone is now above 20 years old. Time has really passed here. Six years. Six years since I came here and changed my life for myself.

Three years since everything was ruined between me and Jasper, three years since I first couldn't find the courage to talk freely at all. Hell, I couldn't even talk. Ever since then and before, it was like my old self, my clueless and childish personality disappeared into the endless void of all the free souls people lost when they grew up, deep in the unreachable universe.

But still, I lost my old one but found a new personality here. I was growing that one for six years straight, and now I suppose it is completely ripe. My memories from the past (or future) are still alive somewhere in me, but those were all bad memories worth forgetting for life. All of them. So at least I have some good ones here. I'm not planning on accidentally dropping them anywhere I couldn't get them out from.

I'm sure about that now.

We moved back into my place after the house fire, well, me, Irene and Eira did, the rest moved into Jasper's house. There were enough rooms in my house for five people to stay in, so Dimitry and Jasper mostly stayed there.

And that's how it was today, like every other day. Eira was out with her friends...

Eira. She is not that cute and adorable homeless girl I saw on the streets anymore, she isn't seven, she is thirteen. She doesn't have pretty long hair, she has short shoulder length gray locks. Irene cut it for her, she has been staring at herself in the mirror ever since then. She has also changed, like our surroundings.

Okay, back to the story. She was out with friends, me and Irene were talking in my room, about everything possible, we recited every conversation we had, and ran out of them. Just in time

Irene noticed a sheet of paper on the ground next to me, and like the clean-freak she is, she immediately went to pick it up. She obviously opened it first, and I just know she didn't want to throw it out anymore.

The paper had oddly familiar handwriting on it.

"Eme-Hello.

Go to the burnt house in...10 seconds, it's a little cold outside, put on something warm. I'd be more than happy to talk."

No signature. The word "emerald" was visibly erased from the small sheet of paper, but I couldn't pay more attention to that. Irene started jumping around the room with excited-looking eyes, clutching the letter in her hands. I could barely get a normal look at it, see if I was dreaming or not.

Long story short, Irene tried her best to make me look somewhat "presentable" , as if I wasn't going to a totally burnt down house, to possibly cry even more than before.

I knew that if I were to actually go and act like nothing happened, I would come back just as heartbroken the first time, and I tried to say it, but I was always interrupted with an "You'll never know if you don't try and don't talk, why else was this chosen to happen?"

I always knew Irene was a little bit too delusional.

With her aching to make me the prettiest girl alive, we both knew I took way more than 10 seconds.

After the self care session, I was finally making my way to the house, walking oddly fast after seeing a pretty suspicious man with a child, looking around so much I thought he was looking for another one.