Chapter 5

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--CHAPTER FIVE--

Barren nothingness greeted sage as she walked around the smoldering ashes of what she once called her home. The streets were empty, the houses mere piles of scorched wood and charred framing work.

She wondered down the street, took a left, then another right. A few houses down on Wooster Avenue stood what was left of her own house. The staircase still stood a few steps up, seeming to lead into oblivion. The once cherry colored wood was now a sickly gray-black.

Ash had let her wander off on her own, so she was free to inspect the house silently. She realized that if she wanted to she could run away and find someone safer. A police officer or something of the sort. But she didn’t want to. She wanted answers, not safety.

She walked up what were once the front steps and through the nonexistent door. It looked like there was a second floor, but it had completely collapsed. All the bedrooms were on the second floor.

She slowly walked into what was the living room. The fireplace still stood and inside it she caught a tiny smear of color. She moved closure so she could better inspect it.

She dug out of the ruins a tiny notebook. It was bound with faux red leather and about half the size of a composition notebook used in school. She unclipped the buckle that held it closed and glanced at the contents of the first page.

Inside, written in tiny, delicate script was a journal entry from April 16th of the previous year. Sage immediately recognized the hand writing as her own. It was her diary.

Glancing around to see if anyone was watching her, she covertly stuffed the small book into the inside pocket of the Jacket Ash had lent her. For some reason, she didn’t want him to know that she had found this. It seemed personal.

She walked back to where Ash had parked the fancy sports car he had somehow acquired. He sat behind the wheel, starring at something Sage couldn’t see. She opened the shiny black door and climbed inside.

“Are you satisfied?” he asked her, without any particular emotion.

She shrugged. “I just want to go back to wherever we were and go to sleep,” she told him. He peeled out of the road he had parked in and headed toward the main road.

Fifteen minutes later Sage sat on the large bed Ash had gotten for her. He had left her alone, assuming that all the tragedy of the day had worn her out.

That was false. All she really wanted to do was get a peak at her past. She wanted to see what she had written. Maybe it would shed some light on what she was missing.

She opened the front cover and a piece of unattached paper fluttered to the ground quietly. She picked it up and examined the boyish print scrawled on it. Her mouthed popped open as she read the few lines that had been written by someone she had known very well at one point. What could it mean?

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