Laughter.
It is a sound that we hear everyday, by ourselves or by the people around us. It is something that we are expected to do. It is something that can be easily used to hide the weariness in our eyes.
It is the signal of life, according to some people.
But, when kids are born, they are not expected to laugh, but, to cry.
Their crying gives their worried parents hope that their infant is still alive, safe and sound. I find this change in the behaviour understanding norm quite unfathomable.
Often, I find myself avoiding both of them. I would rather be neutral.
It's a common stereotype that girls cry more than boys. They cry over silly things like why haven't they got the right size of shoes or why haven't their parents bought them a new cell phone.
I personally think that, that is not the case with me. I have never cried in front of people. I would prefer to be alone then, to avoid anyone seeing me like that. So weak.
And no, I'm not crying or laughing hysterically right now. It is Allison who is laughing hysterically here.
"And then Ethan and I yelled,
mission abort, mission abort! when Aunt Nancy caught us." She continues to laugh, remembering hers and Ethan's total debacle of trying to take a box of candies from Aunt Nancy's cupboard.
As much as I have heard about(from Allison) Nancy Ingram, Ethan's mother, I have come to the conclusion that she is one of those aunts that every niece and nephew loves.
Meanwhile, Ethan is texting at full speed on his phone.
"It wouldn't kill you to listen to me, Ethan. At least, when I talk to Lindsey I know that she's listening."
I actually do listen, mind the rest of you all.
"I was texting Mum, telling her that we're going over to Lindsey's home." Ethan holds out his phone and shows us the text.
"You two are coming right now with me?" I ask them as I step out of the school building. Today's classes are already over and done with.
"Solving a ghost's mystery is better than doing chores." Allison shrugs.
Chores? I don't do those because...... well, you know.
Thankfully, neither Allison nor Ethan mention that I really don't need to do chores. I think they are doing that on purpose.
We all walk down the lane to Edenfield in almost silence. After a while, we reach our destination.
I step forward but before opening the door, the flowers in the nearby gardens catch my eye and an unwanted smiles barges onto my face.
I bend down and lightly carees the tips and standing up again.
Now's not the time for the inner gardener to wake up.
Tilting his head to the side, Ethan looks at the flowers and then back at me.
"You like flowers?"
I glance back at him and put my right hand into my pocket.
"My mum and I used to do a lot of gardening together."
I put my left hand in another but I can't find anything.
There is no key there.
I rummage through my bag and it isn't there either.
"What's wrong?" Ethan asks me with a quizzical look on his face. His black rectangle rimmed spectacles reflecting off the sunlight.
"I don't have my key. We'll have to go through the back door." I make an apologetic look.
"Don't worry about that. I do that all the time." Allison smiles again.
"Mistress Lindsey?"
I hear a familiar voice from the other side of the house gardens.
"Alfred, is that you?" I ask as the owner of the voice comes into view.
"Alfred is our driver." I tell the two cousins.
Alfred has been living here at Edenfield for as long as I can remember. He used to drive me to school before my doctor recommended me that I walk. I barely see him, now-a-days. He lives in this old wooden cottage right next to Edenfield. My dad had offered him to live in Edenfield but he always refused saying that big houses don't suit him.
"Yes, it's me. Are you looking for the key, Mistress?" Alfred says.
"Yeah and don't call me mistress. I've told you before." I make a slightly disgruntled face.
He smiles and hands me the extra key.
"Old habits, die hard, child. Your brother always tells me that, as well."
Speaking of brother....
"Is Dylan here, yet?"
"I think so, I saw his car. I don't drive him anymore. He prefers to drive himself."
I open the door and let Allison and Ethan in. I motion them to go to my room.
"So you're always free?" I ask. A driver isn't a driver if he doesn't drive. He must get really bored if hasn't got any work.
"No, Ms Bragge often sends me on errands and to get a few items she forgets. Neither mine nor hers memories are what they used to be." He gestures towards his full grey hair.
When I was child, his hair only had a few streaks of grey. Now, it is totally grey.
Alfred is a tall old man(about maybe five feet and eleven inches) and in his sixties. I used to play with his thin lined moustache when I was younger. On the bright side, the grey hair looks nice with his usual black driver's coat.
I smile and thank him for the key.
I walk towards my room to find Ethan, Allison and Dylan there.
Instead of his usual coat and trousers, Dylan is wearing a blue t-shirt and jeans.
That's a first.
"Okay, so everyone's here. Let's get started on the journal." I announce.
I take out the journal from my study table drawer and sit on the bed with Allison. My key was in the drawer all this time. I put my bag near my bed.
The moment I sit on the bed, the journal jumps out of my hands and onto the floor with a loud thud.
It opens to a specific page.
Dylan picks up the journal carefully and says, "Okay, that was weird."
The page doesn't have a specific date on it.
Dylan flips back a few pages and reads it outloud.
The pages that he is reading is what happened, the last time we went to the Edenfield of 1890.
"This is all the same except...."
We reach the part where Henry wakes up after fainting and hears his mother talking to a Doctor Hopkins.
"He was a heart patient? That explains why he was clutching the left side of his chest." Ethan nods.
We read further and find Meredith and Isabelle talking about Isabelle's future.
Isabelle tells Meredith that the latter needn't worry about her future since she has a sum of thirty thousand pounds(which is about more than a million these days).
Meredith retaliates by asking her who will ensure that she gets her sum. Brothers listen to their wives after marriage.
My brother isn't like that.
"I'm really starting to dislike Meredith now," Allison says.
Henry is a bit agitated that someone thinks that he would do unjustice towards his sister.
"Now, I really like Henry," Dylan says.
The entry ends with Henry mysteriously finding his journal in his pocket.
The rest of the pages are blank.
"Why didn't we see that when we were there?" I ask.
"Let's try asking Henry himself," Ethan suggests.
He offers me a pen which I relunctantly accept and I write,
"Henry?"
I write as I am a bit unsure if he will reply.
The word disappears, only for new ones to reappear.
"Hullo Lindsey,
"I see that you all have gathered today. What you all have read right now is the continuation of your last visit to the year, 1890."
"Why can't we just read what happened instead of teleporting to 1890?" Allison asks.
The rest of us shrug, neither of us knowing the answer.
I look down at the journal and see the similar slant handwriting on it again.
"There are certain aspects of the story that you ought to see for yourself, Ms Crimsom. Otherwise, you will not be able to fully understand the severity of the problem. And yes, I can hear you all."
I am little taken aback by Henry saying that he can hear us. I look around and see the same surprise etched on everyone else's faces.
I collect myself, hand Ethan back his pen and say outloud,
"And that problem is?"
"Remember, Lindsey. Not must all answers be given at once. Everything will come to you in its proper time.
"But I must warn you all.
"Certain things are not in the norm. I am seeing to those things myself. I will alert if things get out of my hands."
"What things?" I ask.
"In time, in time."
"Our ancestor really likes cliffhangers, doesn't he?" Dylan sighs.
"Can we ask for a hint about the second memory?" Ethan suggests.
"Music can be quite calming. Often one finds solice in it.
"However,
"Mishaps do occur even where one finds serenity.
"This is all I can tell for now.
"Sincerely,
Henry Fitzwilliam Knightley."
"Music?" I say, bewildered.
I look up to see everyone deep in thought.
The soft rattling of the window is the only sound that I can hear at this silence.
After a perpetual silence,
Allison starts,
"The year's 1890. Aren't music and...."
"Balls inter related," Ethan finishes for her.
Wealthy people did host a lot of balls at that time.
"Don't we still have a ball room in the west wing?" I ask Dylan.
Our rooms, kitchen and dining room are in the east wing so we don't usually go there.
The west wing was where Mum, Dad, and Kathleen's rooms were.
"Yes, we do. But the ball room's been locked up for years. Dad never had any business parties in Edenfield and nor do I. I hate those things and so did Dad." My brother makes a ghastly expression.
I'm kind of glad of the mutual feeling we both have about business happenings.
Dylan clears his throat and says, "Well, I and Ms Bragge, both, have the keys. So, it won't be a problem."
I look over at the two cousins and see an excited expression on Allison's face. She opens her mouth, throws her arms into the air and,
"Let's get this mystery solving started!"
Ethan flinches beside her as if her voice pitch might damage his eardrum.
"You all go to the west wing while I'll look for the key in my room," Dylan says and stands up to leave.
"We can help," Allison says.
Dylan waves a dismissive hand and tells us, "It'll only take a few minutes, not long. I'll be back soon."
He walks out of the room, without glancing back at us.
I pick up the journal and gesture the cousins to walk out of my room with me, in the direction opposite to where Dylan is going.
Dylan, like a many other people, does not like anyone to be in his room. As much as I remember, he never even let Mum and Dad go there.
We walk towards the ball room and the only sound we hear is the light prodding of our own footsteps. Edenfield may be old but it is still well maintained.
The corridor towards the ball room is almost empty, except for a few wall paintings hanging here and there. There is also a vintage dressing table and a chair at the side of the corridor. I suspect that it is only for decoration.
Allison stops and observes the mirror, tilting her head side ways.
"You do know that this isn't Snow White's mirror?" Ethan says.
Allison whips her head towards him with an agitated look on her cousin.
"Of course, I do! I've only seen vintage stuff in old vintage shops, I've never seen them in homes." She puffs and adds, "And the mirror in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs isn't Snow White's. It's the Evil Queen's! You really need to sort out your fairy-tale characters, Ethan."
"Sheesh, sorry. I'm not the one who watches Disney films and that American show Once Upon A Time". Ethan says.
Allison shakes her head and walks forward. Ethan shrugs his shoulders and follows.
I chuckle to myself and continue my way.
We come to a turn and I walk towards the left. On the right, the rooms of my deceased family lie.
When we reach the door of the ball room, we find that it has been left ajar.
"Wasn't this room supposed to be locked?" Allison asks as we enter the room.
"Yes....." I reply weakly.
I look down at the journal and find it glowing white in my hands.
It jumps out of my hand and opens by itself. After a moment of an eye-blinding light, we all look down at the journal and find new pages written on it.
Ethan picks it up slowly and examines it.
"You know... instead of the second memory... I see fire inside the mountains. I see fire burning the trees..."
But before Allison and I can see it for ourselves, we hear another voice,
"I found the key. It took a bit longer than expected but it looks like we won't be needing it." Dylan's voice echoes and I see him at a little distance from the doorframe. He is with the key twirling around on his index finger.
As soon as Dylan steps insides the ball room, the journal emits another light.
I only hear three words as the journal sucks us into its world:
"Oh, bloody hell."
Tada! New update, fellas!
Okay, so this update was a little late because my writer's block phase wasn't completely over and I was out of city for a wedding.
Anyways, hope you guys like the new chapter. I couldn't find a reason to perpetuate the finding of the second memory.
Love you guys for sticking till here:)
As you can all see, TGD is predominantly in British English. But I still use the double inverted commas(" ")(commonly used in American English) instead of the single inverted commas(' '). That's only because the ' ' are not as prominent as the " " when they are typed, and I didn't want to confuse the readers on what is the actual speech and what is the description.
On the side note, I'm completely free now, so I can promise that the updates will be REGULAR.
The verses Ethan was repeating are from Tolkien's Lord of the Rings poem 'I See Fire'.
I know the song's originally sung by Ed Sheeren, but I really love Zyrah Rose, too xD
Thanks y'all for stoppin' by!
Avoid weird typos, mates.
Love,
MS Zame:)