~ Tear Stains ~

~ Chapter Three ~

As I became closer to the house, I once again noticed how odd it was. Old, definitely needing a new coat of paint, the windows dirty. Everything in hues if gray and brown. Except the shutters on the windows, which happened to be the same bright red of the forbidden door.

Grass overgrown, strange looking weeds and dying flowers in intricately designed pots lining the porch railings. I noticed a small round window, that same bright shade of red, on what seemed to be the third floor. I never noticed that there was one.

I thought back to Drew. He seemed nice. And his eyes, there's something about them.

As I stared into those beautiful pools of blue a feeling came over me. I don't know what it is yet, but it's something.

Could this be the start of the friendship I've been aching for? Or am I just conjuring up my perfect fairytale from only one small encounter with a complete stranger? I can only hope that this small event could possibly mean something big.

I reached the steps leading to the front door of Mrs. Larkin's house house and climbed them slowly, deep in thought.

On the porch, I was greeted by a solemn faced Aria, who I smiled at, hoping to get one in return. Nothing. Just a few blinks in response as she walked away.

I try not to let her ways get to me. She treats everyone like this, I try to remind myself. But it still hurts, nonetheless.

I am again reminded of the red door. I ave to see what it holds inside. I checked my watch. 9:07. Beth and Aria should be going to sleep soon. I'll check then.

When I got up to my room I shut the door and flipped the light switch on as I peeled off my clothes and dug into my suitcase and took out my pajamas, which were some gray cotton sweats and a blue tank top. I brushed out my hair and took out my diary.

As I flipped through the pages which held memories from years ago up until now, sadness came over me like a storm.

So many times filled with longing and loneliness.

I realized I still hadn't unpacked my suitcase. I glanced over at the small dresser on the opposite side of the room.

I don't have much, so it can easily fit. I lugged my battered old suitcase over and opened up the top drawer. I blew away the thin layer of dust and unpacked all of my shirts into it. The middle drawer was a little dusty as well. I dealt with that and put my three pairs of jeans in along with my pajama pants.

I decided to put my prized possessions in the bottom drawer and was a little surprised to find a slip of paper placed in the corner of the dust-covered drawer. I picked it up. There was something scrawled on the other side, the penmanship incomprehensible.

I unfolded the paper tried to decipher the wobbly letters. Something about pain, from what I could tell. There were scribbled-out words and dots of black ink. I couldn't read much, but it was something about pain and goodbyes. I tucked the paper securely between the pages of my diary and continued unpacking.

I tucked my diary inside one of my shirts and shut the drawer.

That night as I lie awake in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, I couldn't fall asleep. I was restless, not able to lie still.