Missing Pages

Chapter 22: Brush it Off

Author's Note:
Hey! I know this is a little late, but I'd like to dedicate this chapter to...

mamabird1111
IOhartmysteriesxox
pProa1997
cute_little_wings

Thanks again to you guys for supporting my work!! I totally forgot that you could mention people in your books! :-)

~*~

Time was running out, and I still hadn't made my decision about the whole note situation. My safety was of great concern, but so was the success in our plans. I couldn't simply let a chance like this slip by; it was a two-for-one kind of thing if I went to this place. I would get the papers back and find some more clues about our culprit.

With a sigh, my eyes glanced over the two hands on my watch. Call me old fashioned, but I prefer an analog clock to an electronic one. It was 5:30 in the afternoon. I had two hours until my scheduled rendezvous with a stranger. I knew to prepare for the worst if I was going to make it there on time.

I made my way to the front door of my home, and unlocked it with the blue key in my pocket. Once I yelled my greeting, only to find that no one else was home, I ran to my room.

* * *

I bounced on the toes of my feet as I waited behind the building. It was now 7:45, and I was becoming more and more impatient as time went by. Our meeting place was in the back alleyway of that bookstore Nina and I visited. Why here of all places, I do not know.

Our fall had began early this year, in the month of August. A cool fog hung in the air as the season whispers in the trees overhead. Fall seemed to be coming to a close with longer nights and shorter days, promising a brutal winter. My hands made their home in the warm pockets of my coat while I thought back to that fateful day I received a phone call about Maya. It seemed stupid and naive of me for taking the loss so badly now that I knew the truth...she was alive.

I was just about to head back home when a cloaked figure stepped from behind a tree. It was dusk, so I wasn't able to get a good look at their face. I could tell it was a man by his stance.

"Hello," I greeted my strange friend. I attempted to smile warmly and put my hand out for him to shake.

He shoved my shoulder, completely bypassing my outstretched hand.
"Don't leave me hangin'!" I joked, trying to lighten up the mood. "Let's just get this over with," was all the man replied with.

He doesn't seem to be very polite. I followed behind him silently as he pushed the back door open to one of the neighboring shops. I couldn't tell whether he broke in or not, being too preoccupied with haunting thoughts.

We were in a sparsely furnished room with cold cement walls. I guessed it wasn't the main part of the building since it looked pretty run down. The man sat down in an antique chair, gesturing to the couch beside him. I took a seat noticing small dust clouds fluttering in the dim light. I cleared my throat to break the unnerving silence.

"So...how has your day been?" I began stupidly. He remained quiet with his head tilted down to cast a shadow on his face.

"Um, hello? Are you alright?" I questioned. Still no answer.

I snapped my fingers at him, and said a couple more things try and get his attention with no success. He just sat there staring at what I thought to be nothing. With an exasperated sigh, I retreated to the couch. How was I supposed to get those pages if the guy won't talk?

It took about ten more minutes until I remembered something from the note:

"You must ask it of thee."

I mentally face palmed at my stupidity and turned back to the man. "If you don't mind, could you give me the remaining pages of the journal?"

I didn't have to wait for his response because he was already on his feet before I finished my sentence. He kicked away at the junk littering the floor to reveal a stack of papers bound in a leather sting. He then walked to a corner behind the couch to retrieve a golden brush before returning to his position in the chair.

I reached over to grab the papers from his exposed hands, but he pulled them out of my reach and shoved the brush in my face.

"Brush your hair,"he demanded.

I stared at the dirty, dusty bristles in disgust. "No way!"

"Yes. Do it NOW!"

"Never!"

He stood up to reach his full height. Growling, he thew the brush at me. "You will do as I say if you ever want to get these papers from me."

I glared at the cloaked figure before examining the brush. It was fancy, and I could tell by it's weight that it did in fact contain some type of metal. I bet it'd be worth a lot if it was cleaned up. You could also use it for other purposes, such as knocking people out, which I wanted to do at the moment.

Wishing to avoid more trouble, I obeyed his command. I pulled the brush trough my hair one time before hastily removing debris from my head. I was surprised my hair didn't get tangled in the bristles.

"There. You happy now?"

He grunted at the item and thew the stack of papers at me before making his way towards the exit.

I turned to thank him, only to have a strand of my hair be plucked from my scalp. I squealed at the swift movement.

Before I could tell that man off, he was out the door. I shivered and followed his actions, running to safety.