“Where did you find these journal?” Tony determinedly asked as I opened the bedroom door.
“Oh, in the bathroom.” He caught me off guard.
“The bathroom?” He seemed confused.
“Yeah, behind the picture.” I said confidently.
“Can you show me?”
We both headed to the bathroom and I went to the picture and did the same thing I did before. Opening the picture from the right to reveal the hidden space. Everything that had been there before was still sitting inside.
“Wow, I never would have guessed. How did you know it was here?” He asked.
“I thought it seemed off that the picture was a photograph instead of a painting like the rest of the mansion. The wood wasn’t the same as the rest of the room and it also furthered into the bathroom.” I pointed to the cabinet wood under the sink. “Yet this wood seemed strange against everything. The way it sat in the wall was odd as well. I looked from the side as I was washing my hands and tada. It opened.”
Tony seemed incredibly impressed. He didn’t touch anything in the space but he did observe them very well. I could tell he was looking at the glittery liquid much longer than he did to anything else.
“That liquid is mesmerizing.” He said aloud.
“Careful, look at it too long it might steal your soul.” I laughed and he chuckled with me and seemed less tense than when I entered the room.
“Is everything okay? Find anything important in the journal?” I asked.
“I can’t seem to understand what Eunice is taking about and it has made me a little upset. She talks about the family book. In a way that doesn’t make sense. Can I read it out loud to you?”
“Sure. Let’s figure it out.” We walk back into the bedroom the journals are sitting on the coffee table. We sit next to each other on the sofa closest to the bathroom.
It was clear that he was reading the journal from Eunice and that was one he grabbed off the coffee table. He opened it and began reading it out loud.
My dearest Anxillion,
I’m afraid this is farewell.
My heart is torn on doing the right thing, yet also get what I’ve always wanted. You.
Our worlds have always been destined to long for one another. Unfortunately, not for us to pursue.
I will tell you through my family book.
We will chat again beyond life.
My death was not done in vain.
I’ve told you that purpose isn’t always what it seems. It took me this long to figure out mine.
The path I took wasn’t one I should have done, creating a drift between me and what needed to be done.
Now all is done and life will continue.
I’ll love you as I did the first day we met. I hope the day we meet on the other side, your heart has grown fondest since we were away from one another.
Love, Eunice Anne
Tony stopped reading and looked at me.
“Is that it?” I asked. He flipped through the pages and there was nothing written. “One of his goals was to finish the rest of this journal. Was there nothing left written?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t been able to get myself to read his journal.” His face was emotionally blank.
I could already tell why without asking. I would be an emotional wreck if I had read a journal from my dad after his passing. Especially if it was only before having a memorial or funeral.
“It’s okay. You can read it when you’re ready to. If you want, I could read it and see if there is anything important.”
“If you would. I would love to read it through but I fear I might...” He paused. Not wanting to finish his sentence.
“It’s alright, Tony. I will read it.” I assured him.
“Thank you.” He kissed me quick and sweet. “My parents have also been trying to talk to me, alone. You read while I figure out what they need to talk to me about.”
“Okay.” He left in a flash and I was alone with the journals.
Why would my grandmother leave only this small note to Anxillion, then leave the rest blank? The writing of it is just like a poem. It most likely was meant to be a poem. Which means it has a deeper meaning to what is being said. I reread what she wrote, but with more thought.
The beginning is farewell. Which after her writing it, she died. Knowing that it was going to happen and she was saying her goodbye to him.
Her heart is torn from two things; doing the right think or being with Anxillion. First thing I’ve that clearly says her feeling about him. Although, what is the right thing for her to do? There must be something that she is suppose to do. Or to not do.
Their world are destined to long for one another. Yet not for them. Doesn’t really make sense. Why would they be destined to be with each other then in the end they aren’t meant to do that very thing?
How would she tell him through the family book? Is there something she wrote herself inside the book? Talking to each other beyond life.
Eunice says she died for a purpose. Her purpose wasn’t what she thought it was. Was she suppose to be traveling and helping others? Her purpose was to die in the hands of the Huntington family?
Her helping others created her a drift between her and what she needed to do.
Now all is done and life will continue.
She had to have done something at the Huntington’s place. Something that continues life. Whatever that may mean. Even though her life had ended, what life would have continued because of it?
Then she says about her love her him. Separation making the heart grow fonder. Eunice Anne.
I could see how Tony was only stressed about not being able to figure out the meaning behind what she had said. The deeper meaning wasn’t easily picked. It brought more questions.
The family book seemed strange to mention in such a small poem if it didn’t have a larger meaning.
That book spoke to me that one night. The way wouldn’t let me go until it said the very words to me that it needed to. Maybe those words can speak more. Maybe it spoke to Anxillion.
Could it be possible that Eunice was able to talk to Anxillion through the book, beyond life...
I rushed up and through the journal on the sofa. Practically running to the family book. The book sat on the night stand closest to the spiraling stairs. I picked it up lightly since it was still such a fragile book.
I spoke out to Tony to make sure that he knew what I was going to try and do.
“Tony, if you can hear me. I need you to give me some privacy. I’ll be reading the family book. I don’t know how long it’ll be but I think it’ll have clues to what Eunice was talking about.” I didn’t hear anything different. I walked to the door and locked it.
I followed my way to the loft and sat in the rocking chair. It had a comfortable padding on it and the arm rests would make it easier to hold the book as I would become a vegetable while being in the trans from the book. At least I hope it would work.
I held the bind with my left hand and the pages side with my right. The sun was setting and making the rose stained glass look like a glowing red rose. Almost hypnotizing.
Closing my eyes and concentrating on my breathing. Feeling my lungs expand and deflate as it created movement in my chest. I could feel myself want to fall asleep but had to keep my conscience awake. It wasn’t easy to try and connect to the book like I had previously. It felt as if it wouldn’t allow me unless I figured out the right code on how.
I began to focus on my hands and my lap. Focus on the very book, not just my breath. Feeling the book’s presence and how it weight heavy and full of power. More power than anyone realizes, or I realize.
Think about how the magic of the book can protect the ones in the bloodline. As it has a maternal protection. The time I had thought I had that over it, it was really the other way around. The book wanted me to be with it to tell me, as a mother. Calling me like a child, to warn me. Would that be the only way I could connect to it?
I began to feel the warmth of the book. Feeling the magic travel through my hands and bring my conscience into it. My eyes continued to stay closed.
Felt as if I was starting to get sucked into the book which was fearsome. I let go of that fear and knew that the book knew what it was doing. It was more power than I know and it wouldn’t bring me harm. It’s my family’s book. We’re family.
All of a sudden I was blasted into an unknown space, standing on what seemed like a cloud. Fog white everywhere I looked. It felt like an extremely vivid dream and there was nothing to see but the cloud I appeared to be in. I could walk and it had a steady surface that wasn’t as all there.
“What are you doing here?” I hear a man’s voice behind me. A voice I’ve heard once before. The depth of it was something that I would have responded to in a heart beat. It though fake but the voice was exactly correct.
“Becca? What are you doing here?” It asked again in a much more serious tone. I couldn’t make myself turn around. Scared to see him. It couldn’t be real. How could it be?
Instead of me turning around, the man went around me. My eyes opened and in shock. My mouth was open and couldn’t say anything to him.
“How did you get here?” He asks again.
“Dad.” I responded. It was him, like an angel in a cloud. Was this heaven? Did the book kill me? Was I dead?
“How did you get here, sweetheart?”
“Is this really you?” I could feel my eyes start to tear up.
He reached to me and gave he such a large hug. Holding me like he would have normally. Not wanting to let go of me. His black hair was actually how it had been when he was alive. Wearing a blue t-shirt, jeans, and loafers. He casual, typical dad outfit. It was all how I remembered him.
I cried and couldn’t believe my own dad was hugging me. I felt so guilty. My siblings would give anything to have this moment and all I did was hold and connect to a book. Unless I was dead. Then I wouldn’t ever see my mom again for a long time. My siblings, I would never see again for a long time too. In this heaven like place.
“I was holding the family book. I wanted to see if I could reach grandma.” I told him.
“Okay.” He seemed incredibly relieved. “Mom.” My dad spoke out and I could see Eunice appear from the cloudy distance.
“My dear, Rebecca. I didn’t expect you to be here so soon.” She looked to be upset.
“Mom, she used the book. She isn’t dead” She was as relieved as my dad sounded.
I wasn’t dead. The book just helped me get to where they were. Heaven?
“What has brought you to visit?” My dad asked me.
“Tony and I are trying to dig deeper to the meaning of Eunice’s poem to Anxillion’s poem.”
“Is Anxillion alright? He hasn’t come to talk in quite some time. I’m assume trouble has been happening in the land of the living.” Eunice asked.
“Anxillion was killed.”
Her face became paralyzed in shock.
“Anxillion promised. He said he could come here and take the poison I gave him. So we could be together. Who killed him.”
“The Huntington sister.”
Eunice kept shaking her head.
“That wasn’t how it was suppose to end. Not for us. He promised.
“Mom, it’s okay.” My dad tried to calm her down.
“What happened? Why would they have killed him?”
“I’m assuming to protect Tony and I. Since they held him captive, they probably wanted information about Tony which in turn would have lead to me. I could have easily been killed to if he had said anything. He didn’t die in vain. I’m sorry.”
Eunice came up to me and hugged me.
“If that’s what happened, I feel selfish for being upset. I asked him to always protect you no matter what, I just never thought it would have risked his life.”
It was clear she was upset. They must have made an arrangement to when Anxillion was about to die, he would die while in this place. So Eunice and Anxillion could be together. It was sad to see that not get followed through because of me.
“She wanted to talk to you though.” My dad mentioned.
“How can I help you, darling?” She appeared to be happy to want to assist me and my questions.
“Umm. I didn’t expect to talk to you both. I didn’t even think it was going to work. And if it did I thought it was just going to be like a phone call.” I chuckled nervously.
“It’s alright. What’s going on?”
“Well. I wanted to know more about the note you left Anxillion. Like I was saying.”
“Oh, right! It was a poem I left for him. He said he wrote about it in his journal. Did you find that?”
“Yes, just haven’t read it yet.”
“Well, you’re here anyways.” She pulled her hands upward and soft wooden chairs magically appeared from the clouded floor. “Since you’re already here. Might as well sit and chat for a little.”
“Okay.” There were three chairs in equal distance from each other.
“The poem was meant for him but there is important details that also be in context for you.”
“Is it the path part?”
“No, the two worlds destined for one another.”
“What do you mean?” I asked confused.
“I will tell you but you must promise to not to tell anyone.”
“I promise, but could I at least tell Tony?”
“Absolutely not. Tony can’t know of it either.” She continued. “Promise that you won’t tell anyone. When I say anyone, that mean everyone and anyone. This secret is one that isn’t to be spoke.”