Page 7 of The Threads Of Fate
Did someone get into my room and move her? Panicking slightly, I check the door, but my closet is still in front of it. I getup and move it aside to look for her. Somehow, she’s no longer in my room; I just know it, I can feel it.
The hallway is dark, and it’s a bit cold. I should’ve put my robe over my nightdress before coming out of my room, but oh well, I don’t think it will take long anyway.
Whispers of a soft, feminine voice singing are coming from below the stairs, from where my father and stepmother sleep. Slowly, I walk down, and the closer I get to the bottom, the louder the singing becomes. I’m starting to hear the words from the lullaby I’d get sung to as a child.
Come, my sweet, don’t try to fight,
My arms will hold you tight.
Thread by thread, your path is sewn,
Each stitch a secret you’ve not known.
I hum the fate you cannot flee,
My cracks are kind–just stay with me.
Close your eyes, don’t pull the thread…
Or find what waits when dreams are dead.
I hum the song while I carefully tiptoe off the staircase.
Come, my sweet, don’t try to fight,
My arms will hold you tight.
Thread by thread, your path is sewn,
Each stitch a secret you’ve not known.
Softly, I push the door open. The moment my skin comes into contact with the wood, the singing stops. I look around, seeing my father and stepmother still sleeping on the bed.Who was singing?
It takes a while to adjust my eyes to the dark. Looking down, I can see the outline of Seraphina sitting on the floor against the end of the bed, atop what seems to be a red little notebook.How did she get there? Someone would have had to climb out of the window to get into my room, and I know that both of them would rather axe my door down than do that. So what the hell just happened, and where did the singing come from?
I walk over and grab Seraphina and the little book; somehow, it feels like I need to see what’s inside it. I quickly tiptoe to my bedroom, hoping no one heard me. I close my door and go back to bed, unbothered to even try to move the stuff back since clearly it was useless to do so. Sighing, I place her on the bed. I feel like this whole thing is starting to make me paranoid.How did she get there? She couldn’t have done it on her own, could she?
I crawl under my blanket, eyeing the doll as if she might disappear again on her own, and it’s making me feel like I’m crazy. For as long as I can remember, Seraphina has always been there; I don’t even know where she came from. I used to get chills from looking at her, yet I still found her to be beautiful. Now I feel like I need her with me always, like she’s important, but I just don’t know why yet.
I grab the small red book and open it. In black ink, Jenny’s name is scribbled on the first page. Is this my mom's diary? I open more pages, seeing writings about her days in school. I go through them until one page seems to pull my attention.
Dear diary,
I don’t know what to do. I saw James fucking Savannah on the track with his teammates. I know we only just started dating, but I am so mad that bitch is always trying to get all the attention her way. And then when I confronted her, she claimed it was rape. What a fucking bitch! First, trying to get not only my man, but also the others, and then making up some shit story.
She deserved everything we did to her after that, acting like the bitch she is.
xo Jenny
A tear leaks down my eye, and all I want to do is stop reading, but I can’t. This poor girl got raped and attacked by my own parents. How could they do this? I knew they were bad, but this?
Instead of stopping, I look through more pages in the diary, hoping to find anything about Savannah, to see if she survived, if she’s okay. But there’s nothing more, other than the image of a beautiful old mansion. It’s the same one up the street. I always love to look at it when I pass. I also found a page where my mother wrote about getting the doll, and that she would hear me sing a creepy lullaby as a child. I scoff at that. Of course, the only thing that made me still love her was not even true. She never sang to me. I can’t believe I was so stupid to believe that. I close the diary and hide it underneath my mattress. I need sleep and time to gather my thoughts from all of this.
Closing my wet eyes, softly hearing that song again. Like it’s flowing through the wind, it sounds far, but it feels close by. I hum along with it until sleep takes over, and I no longer worry about my strange doll.
???
My eyes feel heavy and puffy, and when I try to open them, I feel like the light in my room is burning them.Wait– why is there so much light in here?I jump up and grab my phone. Oh shit! I overslept,fuck!Quickly, I get ready and then run down the stairs, grabbing my bag. I don’t have time to make lunch, and I don’t have much money left either, so I’ll figure it out later.
