Let it Rain | Orianna | wlw |Book1

Chapter 5 " The Address "

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Where am I? I arrived at the said address. I stopped on the main road, seeing the connecting little road ahead. A big rectangular rock post on the side of that road, a stone carved with initials and number, matches "FW-539" on the said address that I'm looking for. I ask a few directions, some random people that I met in the neighborhood. Everyone had these sad looks in their eyes; can't help me, I started to feel a bit strange. Instead, I checked again the address she gave last night.

The thought can't resist, knowing that I will see her again... out of my curiosity. I browsed her name but ended up with none, not to mention a peculiarity of green-eyed people. Statistic explains people had green ones are two percent only of the world's population. Well, that's my connotation of sexiness, yes! And it's fully right indeed. That entails they easily get jealous, but when they do love, they give it wholly. To me, it's fascinating.

I halted pedaling and stared at my phone, double-checking, making sure it's the exact address on it. I might get missed and get late. Likewise, I end up with this huge Victorian design golden gate with the initial letter "F" colored black on top that stands her last name, "Ferguson," with the number of said address. Here I can see a long fountain already greeted with sadness. Waters are low in a splash, almost dry like they're dripping.

"Greetings to you. Have an appointment? "I've heard the small speaker say, I pay attention to when I get nearer in a small speaker box. It was attached to a wall on top of its Victorian-designed lamp. I've noticed a camera above my head, where I stand, which means they see me right from there.

"Yes, to Miss Orianna Ferguson," I replied, holding the strap on my backpack and looking at the camera above. I even waved and signed for peace. I smiled at the silly gesture.

"Name please? "He asked.

"Kacey," I replied, raising my identification card to let him see clearly.

Then automatically this enormous, heavy golden gate starts moving silently, opening.

"Miss Kacey, you can leave your bicycle here. I hope you don't mind, Miss Kacey. "I've been advised. Likewise, I wanted to see the men face-talking, but it seems they were security personnel. For me, I felt it's creepy.

Catching a glimpse of my wristwatch, it is exactly six in the morning, placing my bike as he told me near. Noticing that lawn mazed each side. I caught my sight of those dead flowers and grasses in every place. Even the cracked walls had a few growing kinds of grass; somebody needs to tend those and make this lawn come alive again, and also those flowers in the gardens would be a great delight.

I stopped walking, still holding the strap of my bag, seeing those six gigantic porches in front, the dullness encompassed by a fog, those big entrances seeing Ferguson's mansion, like mini ruins in Greece. It looks small from where I stood, but when walking closer and closer, a hundred more paces and distant walks to get further from where I am looking. I feel the strangeness of this place, the sadness that cringes in the air.

Discerning the shadow afar, a six huge front porches entrance amazed me as I'm heading closer and closer. As the walking sun shines on its beamed rays, those fogs magically little by little withered on the front dead gardens. Every flower is dead; the maze looked green, but all are dead. I walk closer towards the flowers I touched, leaving a fog moist even though it's already dry. Seemed the place grieved for a decade, the very least.

Does she live here? Is this the house where she lives?

Glancing in dread, everything is dead. Even several trees around are dead. Getting closer, I've spotted one of the luxurious cars parked outside, coated with a moist fog but still shiny, and instantly, I recognized her limo easily, which had a scratch and a deformed surface.