My Ranking Points
Sorry this took so long, I don’t post/write RPs very frequently ;w; Anyway, if anyone wants to read my first chapter, tell me in the comments ‘coz it’s a bit far back in my activity.
Chapter 2: Family Album
I slowly stand up from the pile of pillows. Putting my book down, I tiptoe towards the door. I place my hand on its handle and quietly give it a turn.
The door creaks slightly and I freeze in fright. Peering down the hall, I creep out, hidden in the shadows.
When I get to the staircase, I crouch down as to be hidden by the banister. Proceeding with caution, I see that the kitchen light has been turned on.
Bit by bit, pieces of a smashed vase come to view. Then, I see someone (or something) move. I frantically shrink a bit more into the shadows, and I manage to get a glimpse of the figure in the light-
I heave a sigh of relief. Aunt Clarice’s red-brown hair bobs up and down as her dark blue eyes follow glass shards being swept into the dustpan she’s gripping.
I can’t help but smirk a little as the shattered vase is the one that my aunt has always warned me not to break. I start back up the stairs.
Then, I see some kind of book on the kitchen table which stops me from standing up. It can’t be a storybook or a novel, since it’s cover has no title. Curiosity gets the best of me and I end up longing to see what’s inside of it.
I cautiously crawl towards the table, careful not to be seen by Aunt Clarice. Due to my small stature, she doesn’t sense my presence at all.
I take my place on the opposite side of the table from my aunt. Poking my head over the top, I see the thick book and hastily grab it. Sitting back down on the floor, I flip open the cover, expecting an index or the handwriting of a journalist.
I nearly gasp in shock, but clasp my hand over my mouth in time. For staring back at me was a picture of my mom.
She was just an infant, lying in her crib. Her jet black hair stood out on her pale skin, even though she hadn’t that much yet. I can’t mistake her emerald green eyes and cheeky grin; the same one she wears in the picture I have in my locket.
Beautiful handwriting below the picture catches my eye. ‘Darling Charm at the age of 1. Beautiful moment captured on 5/6/1980. Happy birthday, dear!‘ it says.
It’s grandmother’s writing. I can tell that the flowery script is the same in a birthday card to Aunt Clarice that I found a year ago in the attic. She had sent that just before she divorced my grandfather and cut all ties off from us.
Seeing the words laced with love on the page before me, it’s hard to believe that her relationship with the family had ended so terribly. Not wanting to endure the pain of it any longer, I flipped the page as silently as possible.
A picture of my mom stared back at me. She had her short hair up in two small ponytails with a pink baby dress and no shoes. She was smiling with her mouth open, presumably because she was standing on her own two feet.
Below, in the same handwriting, it said, ‘Charm taking her first steps‘. Taking all this in, I realise what I’m looking at is a family album. Tears well on my eyes. From shock or sadness, or maybe a mix of both, I didn’t know. All I knew is that Aunt Clarice had an album full of treasured memories that I didn’t know about.
My whole life, the only memory I ever had of my family is in my locket. And here my aunt always had these beautiful pictures of my family. However, no rage burns inside me as I expected. My aunt could just have been waiting for the right time to tell me, after all.
Suddenly, the lights switch off. Footsteps creak back up the stairs and I’m left alone with the album in my lap. An idea hits me. Maybe, just maybe, I could take the album.
But that’s stealing! a voice inside me says.
Not if I return it, another reasons.
Borrowing something without asking isn’t the right thing to do.
Is it even my fault though? I just want to see pictures of the family I can hardly remember!
Well, the voice peeps. It still sorta counts as stealing.
Torn between leaving the album here and leaving it behind, I heave a sigh of frustration. Should I:
1. take the album
2. leave it behind
Remember, it’s your choice!