The Weeping Willow

Chapter 1: On the trail

Rain pounds against the roof of the old run down two story house. Vines constrict their way around the white pillars, a few rusty nails jet out from their hiding places, a numerous amount of boards worn away and unlatched since the last she's seen of her childhood home. Trees surround the place, casting an Erie sensation in the crisp spring air. Jet black crows watch from the safe comfort of their nest. And the tiny hairs on the back of her neck were erect.
The car rolled to a stop causing panic to flood through her.
Bella's mind wanders back to her father's Will, the one that clearly stated she inherited the home she grew up in the day she turned eighteen, the same one that said if anything were to happen to him, she would move in with her grandparents. That was April 18, 2022, Five years ago today. Five long years that her father had been missing. And every moment was agony.
The night he had gone missing she was at her friends house, gossiping over boys and what color to paint their nails. She cursed at herself, wishing she was there with her father, instead of fantasizing over Austin muller, her 8th grade crush. He had short blonde curls and deep chestnut eyes, and just the sight of him warmed her soul. But not now, now he was constantly a reminder of the one she lost, her best friend.
Bella's hands fly up to the long chain hanging on her neck, trailing down until it hits the locket.
She picked it up, her soft hands brushing against the cool steel of the pendant, on the outside carved in cursive was her father's initials. JDB, It stared back at her, the everlasting memory of the day he gave it to her, still fresh in her mind.
Pushing that thought away she turned to open it, there laying on the right side was a picture of her father and her, she sat on his shoulders smiling down at him with admiration, and he smiled with a look of love blooming across his features. She turned to the left side of the locket, where a clock ticked, quietly.
This is it.
There is no turning back now.
Turning off the ignition she straightened her spine, trying to regain a former sense of composer.
Finally after a few minutes she got out of the car, hurriedly making her way to the front porch, her small suitcase in tow. Strands of her Brown hair clung to her fleshy pink cheeks as she dug in the pocket of her jeans. She searched for the pair of old rusty keys and when her hand firmly grasped the cold metal she let out a hoorah. A triumphant grin stuck on her face, she pushed the key into its slot and turned, then lastly she had opened the door.

The first thing she noticed was the lingering smell of dust that clouded the place. It made her gag a little due to the fact she became so accustomed to the clean aroma of her grandmother's home.
Soon the dusty air was replaced with a soft woodsy smell, the one right after it rained, where it felt like all your worries were washed away alongside it.
The next thing she noticed were the pictures still hanging on the pale blue walls. Everything, still ,calm, just as the day she had left it.
Home.
She was finally home.
Letting out an internal groan Bella places a small bucket she found underneath the sink, beneath a leak.
She casts a glance toward the old grandfather clock, surprisingly throughout all the time she's been gone, although it lost its tick, it never stopped working.
It was surprising really, it was as if nothing in the home had changed. Her father's and her room are still untouched. Not a single thing out of place.
Bella let a soft sigh escape her soft pink lips. Her golden eyes roaming the home, as if she was in search of something.
Suddenly her eyes landed on her father's study.
A feeling pulled at her stomach. And suddenly, as if her feet had a mind of their own, she made her way to the door.
Bella's hand rested on the knob ,and before she could stop herself she turned it.
The door creaked open, the only source of light were the occasional flashes of lightning outside the window.
Her hands ran across the shelves of books that lined the walls. More Random books laid on the floor and papers were scattered as if someone were in a hurry.
Then as if another powerful force took control of her, she wandered to the old wooden desk, that sat directly in the middle of the room full of chaos. It skimmed her father's journal, then the framed photo of the two of them that rested beside a bulky book.
She turned to the journal, flipping to his last entry.
April 18 2022,
Bella's eyes winded and her mouth ran dry. It was the last words her father ever wrote. His last words.
The police never really investigated the case. Pushed it off as a Deadbeat father who was trying to disappear. But she always believed it was more to that. No one found anything on him after he left. It was like he had vanished completely from this world. As if he never existed.
But what always stumped her was, if her father was such a deadbeat, if he never cared, why did he leave her so much. Why did he care what would happen to her? The thought that he just up and left, never set right with her. She turned back to the last entry and even though she wasn't ready she had to know. What was the last thing on his mind?

April 18 2022,
I've had an uneasy feeling in me all day, something isn't right. By now I would have gotten word from Bella's mother. An okay in any form or any sense. But it's been silent. I should bite my tongue. Think of what's best for my daughter, but what if the love of my life is in trouble. I'll never know until it's too late.

It's been hours and time is running out, I have to do something. Bella darling, if you see this, please know I'm sorry and I never meant to leave you.
There are things in this life I have been determined to keep hidden from you, but sadly I have to let go now. In five years due time, the clock will run dry and it's ticking will cease. Follow the clues my child, and one day everything will Come to light.
-James Dixon Black.

Unshed tears gathered in Bella's eyes.
But she wouldn't cry. She couldn't cry. It was five years later and she needed to know what happened to her dad. Where did he go?
The ticking will cease
The words replayed in her head over and over.
Ticking
Ticking
Her mind wandered back to the old grandfather clock that rested in the sitting room.
With more determination than ever she pushed past the scattered books on the floor and into the parlor.
She trotted to the clock an uneasy feeling in her stomach. How could she not notice it before.
There, engraved in the side in small lettering were 2 words.
Rose's Garden.
It was a book her father read to her every night when she was young,
Where a gentle story introduces an intrepid girl who sails the seas on an oversize teapot that she fills with seeds from the various locales she visits.
She tried recalling where she last saw the book and suddenly it clicked.
She ran upstairs to her bedroom.
The walls were painted pink and a single bed layed near a window. Beside the bed was a small blue chair. And beside that was a bookshelf fit for a queen.
At least it was in the younger version's eyes.
Her long slender fingers ran across the bookshelf unto it hit the one and only book.
Rose's garden.
She flipped the pages of the book, her mind working a million miles per hour.
Until she stopped.
"Each flower, real or paper had appeared around her because Rose believed. Her faith had gathered a garden and the stories of a city.
Rose realized then that her travels were over. She was home. Home in this amazing garden- this splash of color in the middle of a great city. Surrounded by stories and flowers"
Paper flowers?
Her eyes widened in realization. In her father's room were a line of paper flowers she had made in art class. They were Roses.
They reminded him of her mother. Delicate yet strong, beautiful yet full of thorns.
She sets the book on her bed then hurries across the hall to the paper flowers that hung upon the wall.
Stringed around a painting. A willow tree.
Bella studied the painting, the feeling of a distant memory lingering in her mind.
Her fingers grasp the frame before gently taking it down.
A old folded piece of paper fell from the backside, landing on the floor with a thump.
She placed the painting back on the hook, then she bent down to pick up the paper.
She unfolded it, there in her father's familiar writing was a note.
"3 dails left, 6, dials right, among the stars, full moon in sight."

He was referencing their spot. Among the flowers up on a hill, a thousand stars would light up the night. You could see the moon from up there, it was their sacred place.

She left her father room, heading towards the attic. 3 dails left 6 dials right. The old telescope. That's what the first half of the messgae was referencing to.

After she gathered the telescope she hurried to the hill. This was it.
Bella was about to find out what happened to her father.
And this time, no one was going to stop her.
WORD COUNT:1681
Hi lovely's!💕💞🍑
Peach here. I just wanted to say thank you to anyone and everyone who decides to give my story a chance.
I've been writing for nearly five years and although I'm not the best I still enjoy it. please if you can share the story and ask friends to join in on the support.
-Peach💞🍑