Wick And Wind

-3- Sparks

The next few weeks went by at a crippling slow pace. It happens when your mother doesn't believe you and grounds you for attempted shoplifting. I tried to tell her about grandma's diary but she wouldn't budge. It was like talking to a brick wall. <p>

The road to our family's history was paved in mystery. All we really know about my mother's side is that things turned ugly when five sisters went crazy and ended up killing each other. The story says that the fifth sister lived and dies years later in an insane asylum. But after everything that happened I couldn't help but question the history books on this one.

I sat down at the family computer, an out dated thing that weighed more than a big dog, and switched it on.<p>

Just as the speakers chimed their song and the screen danced a logo around, "What do you think you're doing? Did you forget that you're grounded?"<p>

"I have homework," I lied. <p>

"Really? Homework on the computer?" <p>

"It's a research paper, mom. I need our family history to write a paper on lineage and the effects it has on future generations."<p>

"That seems pretty steep for the start of school. And we don't really have any history."<p>

"There has to be something out there!" I was beginning to get aggravated. My punishment was supposed to be lifted tomorrow and yet she had to pick a fight. I just wanted to learn about our family and it seemed like she would do anything to keep it from me. It felt like she knew something; knew something she didn't want me to know.<p>

"What's all this hub bub?" My dad walked in licking cheese off of a wooden spoon. <p>

This was my chance. I jumped in before mom could open her mouth, "Mom doesn't want me to do my homework on our family history! She wants me to fail school so I can be grounded forever! She lives to punish me and I haven't done anything wrong!" I whined and pouted like a child.<p>

"Woah there," he put his hands up defensively, cheese splattering onto the floor. He thought about what I said for a second. Then he looked quizzically at mom. "Why can't she do her homework?"<p>

"I never said that. I just don't think she's going to find anything we haven't already told her."<p>

"Well, you never know. Technology these days," he threw his arms out in a loop, more cheese sticking to the carpet, "let her try. Now stop acting like a couple of teenagers."<p>

Mom walked off in a defeated huff.<p>

"I am a teenager!" Dad shrugged and went back into the kitchen.<p>

I opened up an internet tab and waited for it to load up. She was hiding something from me, I could feel it. Swiftly, I opened another tab. In the first I searched, "family history" but in the second I typed in, "my mother is hiding something" while I had the chance. I went to a random family search site and scrolled halfway down the page. Then I scrolled through my other list of results until I found one that caught my eye.

<I>'My Mom's Magical Secret'</I><p>

It was a dud, a book for less than ten bucks on amazon. <p>

"How's it goin' so far?" I quickly exited the extra tab and pretended to be reading the first site at the sound of my dad's voice. <p>

"Slowly," I answered as he layed his hand on my shoulder. I sighed, trying to concentrate. <p>

"Welp," he leaned in and squinted without his glasses, "I don't think you're gonna get enough people together for a family reunion, and I'm sure as hell not digging anyone out of their graves." He tapped at the title of the page I was on.<p>

<I>'Reunion Planning'</I> <p>

I smacked my head mentally and raced for an excuse. "I must have clicked on the wrong thing."<p>

He didn't buy it though. We listened as mom's car roared to life and faded to a light grumble as she drove off towards work.<p>

"Anything you wanna talk about? I can keep a secret." He smiled.<p>

"It's just that... Why is mom so over protective of our family history? What is she hiding?"<p>

Dad sighed, nodding as he thought about it. "I think she's afraid. She's afraid of what'll turn up if anyone digs any deeper into it. It's bleak enough as it is, isn't it?"<p>

At that thought my anger turned to sad understanding. Maybe he was right. Maybe mom wasn't hiding anything. Maybe our history just scared her.<p>

Seeing that his words had sunk in, he kissed the top of my head and strolled back into the kitchen.<p>

That was when I started my real research. And I couldn't get over what I found.<p>

<center>***</center> <p>

When your family history is drenched, soaking wet, in mysteries and cover ups it becomes hard to decipher the truth from the stories and gossip. In the short time that I had found myself a part of it all it had become clear to me that the less possible it seemed, the more likely it was to be true. And if I was wrong, then maybe schizophrenia was genetic.<p>

Be that as it may, I found the only piece I could trust was an old diary. Not the one of my many greats grandmother Nuria Golnar but one even older than that. I still wasn't exactly sure how old it was. <p>

Sleep still barely existed for me, the fire still burned every night, and I fought to keep my eyes open despite my curiosity. So far I had only skimmed through some cliff notes and reviews. They all said that this was a fictional story; some compared it to the likes of The Crucible.  Despite the description I knew in my heart, a gut feeling I couldn't ignore, that whatever was in this diary was the truth I was looking for.<P>

Nuria's diary had yet to show up again. I was starting to wonder of it had disappeared forever. Even the thought of it made me resent mom all over again. These diaries were our family's history! How dare she turn a blind eye to our existence, to pur ancestry, to everything we owe our lives to! How dare she be afraid!<p>

What does she have to be afraid of? I punched my thighs, letting my anger take control of me. She isn't the one that has to go through all of this. She's never been sleep deprived by nightmares. She's never turned into a monster fueled by her anger. She's never had to watch a poor innocent woman disappear into the dust of an old library.<p>

Who the hell was she to let her fear of ancient gossip over ride my fear of my own well being?<p>

"Allexis, dinner's ready!"<p>

"Okay," I called snapping out of my thoughts, " be there in a second." I opened up the file for the diary and hit the print button. <p>

Then I rushed into the kitchen for dinner, never noticing the computer chair I had been sitting in. I never looked back to see the grey fabric scorched with lines of black. I didn't notice the melted wheels or charred arms. <P>