The Innocent

Family History

Melanie watched as Jon flew a head, his body perfectly horizontal. The idiot was going to fly right past the camp if he didn't stop soon. She followed at a leisurely pace and almost laughed as Jon flew over their camp. Coming up on the camp Melanie sunk silently below the tops of the trees, wondering how long it would take for Jon to realise she had stopped. Landing gently on the ground Melanie turned and surveyed the camp. Leaves had piled up around their stuff, but nothing had moved from where they had put it. She wondered how long they had been gone. It couldn't have been too long could it; Jon was more likely to be able to tell than she was, he had been awake the whole time. She walked slowly over to Jon's body; the water she had thrown on him however long ago had all dried up, she was still grasping his hands like she had been when she left. Leaning on Jon's body she gazed into her own eyes, remembering their mission, why she was here, what it was she was fighting for. With a deep sigh she released herself sinking back into her body.

Standing up Melanie looked again at her surroundings, she felt just as she had before she had left. Slightly cold from the wind, her clothes were a mess, leaves clinging to the fabric. She brushed them off and looked up, the sky was hidden behind the crowded branches of pine trees, this was why they had chosen this spot, so that it couldn't be spotted from the air if the birds, shadow creatures, were to come back. Bored Melanie collected their stuff packing it all away neatly into their bags, as she adjusted the stuff in Jon's bag her hand fell upon a book, drawing it out she saw that it was a sketch book. She flicked it open to the first page to find a sketch of Auntie, the second sketch was of a small cottage similar to some of the smaller homes on the outside of Leasin. Melanie moved away from the camp, searching for a spot with better light, after walking a way she sat down on a protruding root a gap in the canopy above gave enough light for her to see better what was drawn on each of the pages. She flipped to the front of the book and looked at the picture of Auntie again. Now that she was in the light she could tell it was of a much younger Auntie, she was sitting on a couch and she was pregnant. The room that she was in wasn't the one Melanie had come to know while she'd stayed with Jon and Auntie. There were pictures on a window sill and beside the window hung a mirror. In the reflection Melanie could see the artist, his eyes seemed to stare out of the picture at her, so alive were they that Melanie had to blink a few time before she could look away. The reflection showed a young man, in his early twenties perhaps. He was very handsome and he had a lopsided grin on his face. The man in the mirror seemed familiar, but she couldn't pin down where she had seen him.

Melanie flipped to the next page in the book, it was Auntie a little bit older and no longer pregnant, a small child stood hidden in Aunties long skirt his hand holding tight to hers, Melanie grinned when she realised that the child was a younger Jon. The cottage the pair stood in front of was charming, vines grew up the side and you could see lace curtains inside the windows, a healthy little garden ran along the front of the cottage, in it Melanie thought she could see the tops of some carrots. The next page held another picture of Jonathan and Auntie; older again, this time there was no background. Studying Jonathan's face Melanie could see a twinkle in his eye that wasn't there now, she wondered what had happened to make him lose it. After that the technique changed, the images were rougher and looked like they had been drawn in hurry. The first picture was of an old house, it was rundown, the garden severely overgrown. A torn lace curtain fluttered outside a broken window.

Melanie closed her eyes, letting her fingers run over the hard pencil marks on the page, the artist had been angry, a different person had drawn this than the first three. She closed her eyes imagining the cottage, she could tell this was the same cottage from the previous picture. What had made it become so forgotten? Where was the happily family pictured? Melanie shivered as a cool wind blew past her, she noticed the grass waving and looking down she realised she had bare feet. Beneath them was a cool stone path winding up to the front door, taking a hesitant step Melanie moved towards it. As she got closer she could see someone had forced the door. The handle had been ripped of and there were slashes in the wood. She reached her hand out and pushed gently, the door creaked loudly as it swung inward. Melanie gasped she could barely recognise the room from the picture now. The couch was torn and the mirror cracked. The lace curtains hung limp at the broken windows. A cloud moved and the sun flashed off a glass photo frame; it had been shoved down the back of the couch. Melanie reached out tugging gently to free the picture.