Hell-oh Moon-Children,
Okay, I'm gonna get right down to it: this is the last chapter of Joy Ride. Yes, yes, I know that what you're mentally saying "But you can't end this book! It's so good!" or "There better be a happy ending or else!" All the information I'm gonna give you about the ending is, it may be the end of the book but it's not the end of the fictional characters' lives. They will live on forever.
I'd like to dedicate this book to my best friend Melissa (@Bizzard) because she's the one to inspire me to write this story about Eliese and she's always been by my side not matter how badly she's wanted to murder me. Melissa, this entire book is dedicated to you, pal!
Anyways, enjoy the last chapter of Joy Ride.
||Kat/Moon-Child||
Chapter 31: Joy Ride.
Narrator
14 years later
Frank sat in his attic with his three beautiful children, going through old sentimental items from the past that Saturday afternoon. Frank held Miles closely in his lap as he went through his wife's old belongings while Cherry and Lily toddled off into different places in search for their parents' treasures. Frank turned his attention towards Jamia as he held up pictures of them early on in their relationship. Jamia giggled and hid her face in the palms of her hands when she saw what they both used to look like.
"Ohmygod, Frank! I can't believe we still have these." She exclaimed happily, taking the small pile of photos from him. Frank laughed and adjusted Miles on his lap since the small boy wanted to go explore with his sisters, they were less keen on their baby brother's want to be apart of their treasure hunt. Frank was more than happy to allow his daughters to snoop through old belongings of his, he had nothing to hide. Well, he thought he had nothing to hide; maybe from them but he certainly was trying to hide something from himself. A box that was being crippled from water damage and age, a box with his name written in a female's hand writing. A hand writing so unfamiliar to Frank at this point he might not remember who wrote it until he looked inside, and if he looked inside something terrible may happen all over again. Something Jamia feared and that's why she was less keen to come up here and poke around in case someone found the box and showed Frank the contents. Jamia's worked really hard to get Frank out of that rut he was once in. Everybody thought that she'd give up on Frank at one point but she didn't, she loves him dearly.
"Daddy, what's this?" Cherry shouted from the far end of the attic, with an old dusty camera in the palms of her meaty hands. Jamia's worst fears may or may not come true in the matter of minutes. Frank hands Miles to his wife and got up from the creaky wooden floor, brushing the dust off of the back of his pants. Frank was short enough he didn't need to duck down to avoid striking a beam. Frank was hypnotized by the black camera in his daughter's hands. Lily knelt at the side of the box in front of Cheery and dug through it. Frank mindlessly dropped down to his already battered knees and leaned in to see into the darkened box. He suddenly felt sick with painful memories that ripped open past scars. Frank's tattooed fingers wrapped around the dulling black fabric and lifted it to his face, letting the now rough fabric brush against his skin. Engraved in the dulling black fabric was a faint scent, her scent. The scent she wore so very well. Frank took in a deep breath of the scent of coffee, cigarettes and perfume, closing his eyes as memories washed his mind like a title wave of reminission. He exhaled heavily and opened his eyes to see his small but growing family looking at him curiously. Jamia looked worried. Frank let the sweater fall to his knees as he dug through the box to find the last journal he read of hers. Frank knew was was written on the final pages of that book and he turned directly to them.
