Obscure Occurrences |C. BAREBONE|

☛ Eighteen ☚

• December, 1925 •

It was Saturday the seventeenth and Genevieve had decided that in three days time, she would be on a boat toward England. Her body practically hummed at the thought as she crept downstairs. Victor Burnett had left for work two hours ago, ultimately allowing Genevieve to take the opportunity.

Genevieve crept down the hall upstairs. Nothing could describe her feelings as she sneaked closer to the intimidating door. Underneath no light seeped through, only a sweltering tension which drowned the young Miss.

The closer she became, the more her bike turned in her stomach. She was unable to just run into the room. Instead, Genevieve took a deep breath before placing her jittering hand upon the door knob. This was her Father's privacy she was breaking, his personal life. However, she still turned the handle after echoing her dreams.

I want a dream; not a reputation for family or a voting ballot for a husband. I want to be free. I want to learn more of who Hannah Burnett was... I want more

Genevieve entered a crisp organised room. Books were lined in height order and seemed to create a slide, planting knowledge onto the desk below, the one covered in unprinted stories and unwanted news. Around the centre of her Father's office, was ornaments that gave the area an old timely feel that warped Genevieve back into the past. She knew if her Mother was still alive the study would've surely been updated.

Underneath her feet as she walked closer to the desk, was this beautiful Persian rug Victor had imported from who-knows where. Oddly enough, it seemed to fit and comfort Genevieve before she became adjacent to her Father's livelihood.

Like him, it was organised. Paper was pristinely stacked and pens were lined perfectly parallel to each other. Genevieve concluded then that she was exactly like her Mother.

Another reason to leave she thought then.

As Genevieve circled the desk. A small hand  glided across the top and collected minimal dust against its fingertips. Those small things distracted her from the truth in drawer two.

Once Genevieve came face to face with the black, curly handle of the drawer, she took a gulp of fresh, New York air.

Upon opening the drawer Genevieve saw three things:

A post card with a black and white photo of the the coast of England. Beautiful in its shade variation.

(Genevieve assumed Vivienne's address was scrawled across the back)

Secondly, there was that sepia photo of Hannah Burnett. Her curls were free and untamed against a bright smile and crinkled eyes of sunlight. Genevieve couldn't remember the colour of her Mother's eyes, but she knew they were light and warm.

And lastly... Genevieve didn't know what it was. A long stick of polished, apple wood was placed carefully against the edge of the drawer, decorated with carvings of the moon and sun. It was absolutely beautiful and took Genevieve's breath away. Once her grey eyes were set upon it, the young woman felt this unnerving and unfamiliar buzz course through her body. The sensation was strange yet welcomed as Genevieve reached out for two things...

The stick and the postcard: leaving behind the photo willingly.

While Genevieve strode with both objects held carefully against her chest, she could feel a thump ricochet through ribcage... And it wasn't her heart.

As she approached her bed of baby blue and buttercup yellow, Genevieve focused on the stick to feel a weird aura emirate from the object. It surely wasn't just a stick, it couldn't be. But that didn't give any explanation as to why it was in Victor's desk drawer.

Therefore, Genevieve gently placed the stick upon her pillow and flipped the postcard over to read:

Dear Sister, I am writing to inform you of Mother's apologies. She is still unable to contact you due to Father or convince him of your welcome home. He's already spoke of you so distastefully. He called you and Fiona blood-traitors but that cannot be right. You would never do that Hannah... Right?
Well, I just hope Father sees sense and won't hold you back from me. Hannah, you will know where I'll be if you need any help.
With love,
Your sister,
Vivienne

4, Godric's Hollow, Devon, EX20 xxx

Genevieve should've been jumping for joy. She had the exact address, she knew what she was going. But the postcard only left her with more questions. What did her Mother do to become a blood-traitor? What was a blood-traitor?

It was all too confusing and left a long list for her Aunt. That's when Genevieve
-strangely enough- rolled her eyes toward the stick sitting idly on her bed.

What does this all mean? she asked in confused manner. However, she wasn't ready for answers yet. Genevieve had to buy her ticket first.