Us Against The World

Chapter 3

***5 Years Later***

         My foot slightly twitches and I roll over on my side, hoping for more comfort but I was greeted by more heat instead. Groaning, I pull myself up to a sitting position and tried- and failed- at feeling the least bit comfort. The summer heat makes the house humid and a sense of what it is like to be deep fried; and I have slept in this bed too many times.

        I glance out of the window and realize how early it truly is. Part of me wants to roll back over and sleep but my restless, curious side urges for adventure. I slip out of bed and onto the floor- scared to make any sound at all for fear that my mother would wake. Once I was sure the sound hadn't caused much, I scurried out of my bedroom door and along the corridors to my father's old study. 

        Cob webs litter the corners and empty spaces in the book cases, the books had very intimidating names such as, '25 Deadly Disease's,' or  'Reason's For Suicidal Thoughts Or Actions.' I withdrew one of the books from the shelf and coughed as dust filled the air around me. I could find nothing worth reading, so I replaced the book on the shelf and continued pacing the small room. 

I walk over to my father's old desk and examine the chair. It is old and dusty with a few rips and tears along the middle and sides. I turn to the desk which has papers and a couple notebooks scattered across the top. "Mum must've never came in here since you died." I quietly say to myself. The entire room looks as if it has been untouched for years.

After swatting cobwebs off of the old chair, I take a seat and observe my surroundings once again. I spur the chair forward which creates a loud squeak and I cringe as I pull to a stop. My body freezes and I hope that my mother didn't wake. After a few moments of silence I'm lead to believe that I am still the only one awake. I lean down a couple inches and search through the rusty drawers of my father's old desk.

All I find in the first three drawers are ripped papers and filing folders. I turn to  the other set of drawers and find a notebook with no title written on  the lines located on the cover. I lift the delicate looking book from the drawer and set it on the desk. I open it and find tiny scribbles on every line. It takes me a moment, but I finally make out the words. My father kept a daily journal... just like I do.

A lot of the writing on the book is about my mother and his life. The disease he had been writing about he had caught himself. Towards the end is where I come in. He wrote about how he'll never get to see me grow up. I cried as I read the lines "My baby girl, I'm so sorry you will have to grow up without me. I know you probably will not read this, but I needed to say it. You need to know that even if I'm not in your life, I still love you. With all of my heart."

I couldn't help but sob at my father's words to me. Why hadn't my mother showed me this book before? Is there something else I need to see? To know about?

I close the notebook and gently place it back to its previous place in the drawer. I try my best to close it as silently as possible. The very last drawer had not yet been opened by me; and my heart pounded as I reached for the handle. I tug on it, but the drawer doesn't budge. I notice a key hole just above the handle and I frantically search for the key. It has to be somewhere.

I stand from the chair and search the shelves above my father's desk. I have to move a few books aside before I find a small rack with three sets of keys hanging from the hooks. "Why must you make it so difficult for me?" I say quietly, referring to my father. I grab the second set of keys and squat next to the locked drawer. The first two keys do not work, but the last one does; and I'm glad. I mentally thank my father and sigh in relief.

As I pull the drawer open, my eyes widen and I gape at the sight before my eyes. The necklace.

I quickly snatch the jewelry and hug it. I move to close the drawer, but pause when I look down into it. A small piece of paper with my name drafted across the middle. With the necklace still in my hand, I reach into the drawer with my free one and grab the paper. I examine it for a moment before I realize that it is a letter. I close the drawer and replace the keys on the rack as I stare at the scribbles on the inside of the paper.

"Farrah?" my mother says my name in a sleepy tone and I jump at the sound of her voice. I shove the paper and necklace into the pockets of my pants and turn to face her. "What are you doing in here?" she asks and I slowly stand up. "I—I was—" the words wouldn't form and all I could manage was standing in silence. 

{Thanks to everyone who has been reading and voting! This is the first time I have written an author's note at the end of a chapter and I'll be doing it every 3 chapters from now on. I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far!}