THE DEAD ZONE | COMPLETED

One Hundred Nine |

One Hundred Nine |

It was raining tonight.

Everyone had gathered in the garage—we moved the stuff around so there was space to throw all the blankets and pillows we could find onto the floor. Considering the demands from earlier, it was best we stick together. As the others bunkered down in the garage, I excused myself and went into the trailer. I wanted to look through my mom's diary without the eyes of my friends. I knew they'd have my back but I wanted to be alone for this. So I had started to flip through the diary, it started when I was born and it was all very mundane. Just my mom writing about being a mom, and the interactions about our family.

The rain started when I reached the date I got diagnosed with cancer. Thunder sounded, and Pig flinched from where she was perched on my lap. I rubbed her head soothingly and then there was a familiar knock on the trailer door. I smiled slightly—knowingly.

"C-Come," my voice called, I know it cracked slightly, there was a lump in my throat ever since I started reading the diary, and my eyes were unusually watery, "Come in."

The door pushed open and Sebastian took a step in. He smiled slightly, his eyes flickering with unease as the thunder banged loudly outside. Drops of rain clung to his dark locks, and rain had hit his face, making the beautiful man look as if he had been crying.

"Hey," he breathed softly.

I put down the diary, "Hey. Come cuddle?"

He perked up, "I do my best cuddling naked."

A snort left my lips as he moved forward, sitting beside me on the pull out couch and patting Pig slightly. He was surprised by the bird but didn't really question it. Instead, he frowned slightly, giving me puppy-dog-eyes.

"Ey love, not going to lie," he said, pouting, "a third is a turn off."

I laughed at that, "Yeah, yeah."

His eyes flickered to the book and I tensed, waiting for question I couldn't answer. Instead, he didn't ask, but turned his attention onto Pig, petting the bird calmly. Pig looked up at the man and decided he was better company, before hopping onto his lap. My eyes narrowed, the little womanizer stole my bird!

"Hey little girl," he chuckled, "Do you have a name?"

"Pig," I giggled.

He paused, his brow raising.

"She's a lady who likes her food."

He winked at me, "I do enjoy a woman who can eat."

My eyes rolled, and I realized that lump in my throat was long gone.

"It's my mom's diary," I blurt.

His eyes slowly slid to me, and I watched as his face turn careful.

"Sonar was my grandad. He has a lot of my stuff, from when I was little. He has," I paused, "Had her diary. I just thought I'd read it a bit. It's pretty boring, my life was really boring back then. Except for the whole cancer thing."

"Boring?" he replied with a warm smile, "Nothing about you could ever be boring."

I smiled slightly at that, "I know you think that."

"Can I see it?" he asked softly.

I nodded, handing it over without hesitation. He handled the book carefully, using both hands to hold it as he gently flipped to the first page. I bit my lip nervously as his eyes skimmed the words, but it was strange, as he read, his eyes lit up.

"What is it?" I asked.

Those crimson eyes flickered briefly to me then back to the book and he read it out loud, "The last time I wrote in a diary, was when I was ten. After that I lost the little hobby because mom died of cancer. Dad suggested I take it up again, now that I'll have more time at home and I think I agree. I have this gut feeling inside me that I'm going to get cancer too, and I'm going to put my own child through that loss. So I started this diary, and I want her to have it one day when I'm gone. Oh, I sound so morbid, Jason would say: it takes more brain power to be cynical rather than positive, but still, I'm going to give this silly thing to my daughter one day. We don't know yet but I have a feeling she's going to be a girl. My little girl. One day, along with this book, I hope I'll be able to give her the world. She's going to be spoiled for sure."