Sorry I didn't upload this past week! Thankfully, I was ahead of my schedule anyways. Well, here is the next chapter you have so patiently been waiting for. Honestly, I've had it done for like the entire week, but I just never had time to type it cuz I've been having church almost every night. That ends tomorrow though, so you'll all have me (mostly) to yourselves. :D As always, happy reading! Votes, comments, fans and etc are always appreciated! They make my day. :)
~Britt <3
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"Wake up, Princess. You need to eat. I can't have you die just yet," said Easton in his familiarly cruel, smooth voice. I blinked the sleep from my eyes. My eyelids were so heavy. I tried to lift my head, but it felt like an iron balloon on top of my neck. I let it fall back into the pillow.
The room was lit, unlike last time, and it took quite a bit of effort for my eyes to look about the room. I stared at the ceiling. It appeared to be made out of plastic. My tired mind seemed to recognize the purple-pink color and pattern, but I couldn't quite place it.
Easton had a bowl of soup and he ladled some into my mouth. It was hot and scalded my tongue and throat. Much effort was taken just for me to swallow the bland, tasteless soup.
"This should give you enough for the task at hand," he informed me.
"What task?" I asked suspiciously, my voice like the crunch of gravel.
"I believe you'll do it. I need you to find something. I need you to find the book, Revival. It lies somewhere within this house. Do you know who's house this is?" he asked me in a voice one would use when addressing a child. I found I now had enough energy to glare at him, so I did, but I didn't answer his question. In truth, I feared the answer.
"Who says I'll find it for you?" I retorted instead, my voice gaining strength along with my body.
"Oh, you will. Otherwise I'll kill your mother, and all of this will have been for naught," he said nonchalantly as he forced me to swallow another spoonful of soup. What was one frail human to him? My glare deepened as he fed me, but on the inside, I was scared to the bone.
"How do you expect me to find this book?" I growled at him after I'd swallowed yet another spoonful of soup. I now had enough strength to sit up, so I shifted myself into a sitting position. It was very taxing and I breathed heavily afterwards. My eyes quickly scanned the room as I tried to figure out where we were.
Why was everything so girly and plastic? Was that clock over there... a sticker? Then it struck me: we were in a dollhouse- my doll house! Easton grinned smugly as he saw the gears in my head clicking into place.
"I would expect you to ask your mother."
* * *
My strength returned to me, Easton had brought me outside and returned me to my original size. My head spun looking down at the ground from so high up. I stood nervously in front of my own front door, which loomed, unfamiliar, at me from so many weeks of absence. I bent down and rubbed the scar on the back of my ankle that the door had inflicted on me so many weeks ago. My hand brushed my anklet as I stood back up. I didn't even know how long I'd been sleeping. What day was it? How long had I been gone?
Gaining courage, and anxious to see how my mother fares, I raised me fist. What if she wasn't home, I asked myself as my fist thudded against the door once. Twice. I stood back and waited, rolling back and forth nervously on the balls of my feet. She'd probably think me strange because of the long, old-fashioned dress I was in.
I heard the bolt of the lock click out of place and the door slowly creaked open a slight crack. Tired, wearily dull, bloodshot eyes with deep, tired bags underneath peered out at me, not seeming to recognize me. I could barely recognize them, and I struggled to find my voice.
"Hi Mom," I said quietly, my voice barely a whisper as I choked back the knot in my throat. She opened the door the rest of the way and just stared at me, a mug of something or other clutched in her hands. Her hair was thin and grey, with a multitude of tangles. The ratty black robe she wore had slipped a little off one shoulder. She looked as if she had aged a hundred years since my departure.
She took a sip of the liquid and sighed. A bit splashed out of the mug and hit the ground with a wet plop. My mother didn't even notice, she just stared straight ahead. Who was this woman standing before me in place of my old mother? I smelled alcohol.
"Is it really you, my dear?" my mother said, her words slurring together Great balls of fire, she was drunk! What had I done to her?
She began to sway, looking as if she was about to topple over like a felled tree. I rushed to her and steadied her by placing one arm beneath her shoulder. I grabbed the mug away with my other hand.
"Let's get you inside, Mom," I suggested as I lead her through the door, careful not to let it bang against me as it swung shut. I led her into the living room and sat her down on the couch, instructed her to stay, then went down the hall into my room. I had a plan.
My room was exactly the way I had left it, and there was my phone, laying on my bedside table. It was completely out of battery, so I plugged it into a wall charger and waited impatiently for it to turn on. I could only pray that I hadn't been gone long enough for the minutes to expire and hope that Westley still had his phone.
Westley, Easton has me captive @ my house. He wants me to find the book, Revival. Come save me ASAP.
I text-ed him once my phone had whirred back to life and revealed that it did in fact still have service days and enough minutes for a couple texts. I waited until my phone informed me that the message had been sent and then went back to my mother. She was sitting where I had left her, staring at the wall and sipping from a nonexistent mug. I needed to get this done fast. Easton had given me a time limit of two hours to find the book. An entire half-hour had already expired.
"Hey Mom, can you help me find a book?" I asked slowly, pantomiming my words.
"I can help you find lot's of books," she said with a hiccup, her gaze not riveting from the wall. I stood in front of her and her eyes found their way to mine. My eyes stung with tears threatening to spill onto my face.
"Thats good, Mom," I encouraged her. "Do you know where a book called Revival is?"
She rolled her eyes lazily in her head and then fastened them on my feet before announcing, "Dad said not to tell anyone about that special book,"
Dad? She must have been talking about my grandfather, but he'd been dead for ages- since before I was born! There was no way she could be talking about my dad. How did my mother let herself get this bad? And where was Aunt Karen! Why wasn't she taking care of my mom, her sister?
"Mom, you need to give me this book. It is very important. You know where it is, don't you?" I attempted to prompt her.
"Nope," she said, her lips amplifying the 'p' with a pop. Her eyes shifted and she stared intensely at the small bookshelf against one of the walls. On that bookshelf sat a statue of a fairy, just big enough to hold a book maybe. Without thinking, I walked over to it, picked it up, and threw it against the ground. My mom jumped in fright and blinked her big eyes once before sipping her imaginary drink once more.
Once the dust had cleared, I swept away the shattered remains to find a brilliant gold book. Scrawled in black letters across the top was the word Revival. I picked it up reverently and tucked it into a pocket in my dress.
I bolted back into my room and grabbed my phone, stuffing it down the front of my chest where it would be safe and remain undiscovered. A means of communication nestled between my breasts and an important book in hand, I waited for Easton or Westley. Whoever would come first. There were lives at stake.
