FullMetal Alchemist Falling in love with Envy

Photograph

The book closed as sweetly as a leaf falling to the ground. That last page filled my soul to the rim. Somehow the fantasy of every book I read brought about feeling as if I was the main character. Magically I was free in those pages, and closing the last one was both magical and upsetting. Going back to the real world was a terrible reality for me.
I wore my coat and headed to the library. With books in hand, I strutted happily, excited to tell Alfred that I won the challenge.
I opened the door with a push from my body and called him. Strangely, he was not at his desk. I have never seen him away from a book my whole life; he would usually be sitting behind that desk of his and drowning in every single book he could find. It was silent in the library, my footsteps echoed, and my pace slowed. I called him over and over, no one responded. When something unusual happens, you tend to slow down and examine your surroundings, making sure that nothing ugly might jump out at you.
I placed the heavy books on the desk, my hands aching from their weight. I stood there, staring around, hoping I could catch a glimpse of Alfred, but his absence was heavy.
'I'll just wait I guess.' I thought to myself, then was taken aback by noise from under the desk. The blood drained from my skin, every part of me went on pause while my brain was busy analyzing what that sound could be. The library felt darker, more sinister, vague, enormous while my brain was interpreting that sound.
'It could be a rat; it could be a cat, it could be something that fell, it could be the wood getting old.'
Slowly, I approached the desk. I placed my hands on the surface and bent forward to take a glimpse of what could be beneath it.
Nothing.
I got back up and took a breath of calmness, but soon all my bravado evaporated faster than a summer rain when a pair of hands grabbed me from behind, and a loud voice forced me to jump up and scream. My brain stuttered for a moment; confusion washed my face after the sound of Alfred laughing suspended my fear and turned it to shock and turmoil.
"Hahaha! You should have seen your face!" He managed to say, trying to catch a breath from how hard he was laughing. "How does it feel to be startled?"
I placed my hand on my chest; it would somehow help regulate my breathing and slow down my heartbeat. Between breaths, I managed to say in a sigh. "There is a difference between scaring me and giving me a heart attack Alfred!"
"It's all the same! Now you got a taste of your own medicine! Hahaha!"
"Didn't know you were the payback type of guy!"
"You'll get surprised the more you spend time with me, darling."
He made his way to his chair, and everything seemed to go back to a familiar picture. He gave the books a glance from the corner of his eyes, and a smile formed in the corner of his mouth, stretching upwards and giving more wrinkles to his old face.
"You know? I shouldn't be surprised with your accomplishments, but you always seem to fascinate me."
I brushed my hair back, proud of my accomplishment, and said: "go on."
"Well all I can tell you is, you won this challenge again and you can keep the books. In fact, how about you join me and my wife for dinner?"
"That's very kind of you but..."
"We are having Turkey for dinner!" he said in a persuasive tone.
"You got me at Turkey!"
The sight and aroma of the food was a gentle massage to the soul, swirling together to form a single picture in the memory. The dishes were sophisticated as my sense of smell. My stomach clenched with hunger at the thought of juicy Turkey cooking in the oven, getting a golden and reddish tan, dripping amber-colored gravy, home-baked bread, and garden vegetables roasted, drizzled in balsamic vinegar. Such romantic poetry.
"Darling, would you be so kind as to get my glasses from my room?" Mrs. Kings said while roasting the vegetables. "It's upstairs, second door to your left, you will find it on the bedside table."
"Of course! I'll be back in a bit."
Mr. And Mrs. Kings were simple people. After my father had passed away, Mr. Kings took on the life of a simple married man. They never had any children, but that never seemed to upset them since they raised me after becoming an orphan. I never called them mom or dad; it felt out of place. I called them aunt and uncle for being so close to my parents when they were alive. They seemed like family members, and they truly lived up to being ones. After growing and finishing my studies, I decided to go back and live in my childhood home. It was a home like any other home, with rooms, beds, and furniture, but the feelings were different. The warmth in the walls created by all sweet memories was a lingering taste of childhood I can relive in my head but so far away from reality.
I found the glasses where she told me they would be accidentally dropping a glass of water as I reached to get them. With the minty liquid spilled on the floor, Mrs. Kings isn't going to be happy to know that her cup of teeth is contaminated with germs. I grabbed some tissues and hurried to dry off the floor; the smell of the minty fluid stinging my nostrils and the thought of teeth sinking in that water was disgusting, but I have to get rid of the scene of the crime. While drying under the bed, I noticed a familiar notebook. They say curiosity killed the cat, but curiosity shook me well. I went for the notebook and examined it. The dust had taken over its cover, rendering the item as old as an ancient artifact. I opened it to reveal pages made yellow as if bathed in golden sunlight till crisped, each page hard on the fingertips, all filled with terrible handwritten scribbles, notes, and sketches. My eyes scanned the pages flipping through without reading; I wasn't interested in what's going on on those particular pages. Something inside me was screaming: keep flipping till you get to a specific page. And I found it.
It was like a time machine that took me back years, although I wasn't present in the photo. It was in black and white, my father and Mr. Kings, depicted working on a body. Regardless of how hard it is to tell the colors, but I could distinguish the color of blood on their clothes from all the other colors. Something about it made it stand out; it was a darker kind of black. I recognize the place as if engraved in my memory. It was the basement in our house, where everything used to take place, all the experiments and the books and the strange lights.
I was taken aback by the horrific scene displayed in front of me. Never in my life did I think my father would do such horrible experiments using human life.
"Beauty, dinner is ready. Come on down." The voice of Mrs. Kings startling me. I returned the notebook and hurried downstairs.
We sat all together and enjoyed the meal, conversations jumping from subject to subject, laughing at jokes and reminiscence from the past, silly things I used to do when I was a little girl. It was like the old days. But deep inside, a question hurricanes. I was staring back and forth at Alfred and refraining from asking about what I saw.
Now is not the time.
But I have so many questions!
But is it worth ruining this night?
You want to fight your inner demons, now is the chance!
No, I'll wait for tomorrow.
A conflict between me and myself occurred while I calmly ate, smiled, laughed, and talked with the old couple.
The question remained. Will I be able to find relief in Alfreds' secrets?