King of Spades |Book 1|

Chapter 4 • Be Extraordinary

•Rayan's POV•

It's been almost a year since my parents and sister died. The funny thing is, it happened on my 17th birthday. Yep, when I say life sucks, it really does. I didn't expect it to happen. I mean nobody expects your life to just turn to shit that easily. When I heard of the news, I shut down.

Everyone had been setting up my birthday party, Dane and Talus doing most of the work. While my friends and I watched them struggle. My parents and sister were at the store buying another cake, since Elyse dropped mine earlier that day. It was hilarious actually, I don't think I ever laughed that hard. The party was supposed to start at seven, but given it was already seven-thirty something was wrong.

They didn't come, they never got to see me officially turn 17. It was around eight when we started to worry, and nine when we got the news. Murdered. The police came to our home, and reported that both my parents were shot in the head, whereas my sister was strangled. She was only 18 years old, and killed for no reason.

As they explained, I remember feeling the breath hitch in my throat, unable to move or even comprehend the situation. They were murdered by someone who would get away with it. It made me sick, I couldn't even sit there and listen any further.

I shut everyone out, my friends, my family, and my brothers. No one was able to talk to me. For 4 months I was in deep depression. Before they died, I kept journals. Since I learned to write I kept one. Each day I would come home from school and wherever I was, and write.

Each day would consist of five pages of detail. Never more and never less. Describing the emotions I felt and the people I met or saw. Also, each journal had 150 pages, giving each one 30 days of life. I found the journals at a old antique store, the women who owned the place had at least a hundred on her bookshelf. I remember the first day I saw them.

"Well hello there young lady, eye-ing up these wonderful journals are we?" She said, happiness in her voice. Seeing them, it was very noticeable they were collecting dust. Not being touched for years.

"Yeah, I really like how they look." I say

She looks at me, then back at the journals, and then back to me. "I'll tell you what. These old things haven't been touched in years. I never even put a price on them. This bookshelf contains pages that are desperate to be  given history. I will give you them. Taking one every time all the pages are filled, but promise me little one. You will write every day of your life down on these pages. Filling it with emotion, and memories. That's all I've ever wanted for these old books of life. Can you promise me that?" She says, her eyes very sincere but also intense.

"Yes, I promise." Determination swimming in my voice. In that moment I vowed to do as she asked. I wanted to. Once I had a mind set I was willing to do anything to get there. The women handed me the first journal among many to come. It was a small, black leather journal, identical to the rest. There was a tie that opened to the side. The pages where a yellowed-white with the feeling of gritty silk. Faintly, you could see lines for writing.

I was only six at the time, but I instantly feel in love. Everyday I would write, and write. Filling one journal after the other. In a little over a year I had a small bookshelf of finished ones. Each having a start and end date. I loved to write, that's mainly why I kept up with them all those years.

I had learned the women's name was Harriet, and she became a very import person to me. After about 5 years of knowing the women who supplied me with my journal, something happened. She became very, very sick. So sick she couldn't walk, talk or think properly. Her death hit me hard, thinking I would never be able to write again. Then a miracle happened. One day in the mail I received a package. Inside was a journal, written in it was letter from her. Titled 'My young one.'

Well darling, if your reading this it must mean my story has come to an end. But that doesn't mean your has. Don't you dare sit around and mope about me not being there with you, because we both know I taught you more than that. The pages you write are who you are, I want you to continue being you. Live your life to its fullest extant. I beg of you my little Rayan, be the person you are meant to be. Do not limit yourself to the expectation of others. You are so much more than that. In the years I've known you, I realized something. You might think I've taught you important things, but honey it wasn't me who taught things, it was you. Rayan, you taught me how to be happy again. You taught me the reasons of joy, and cherishing your youth. One day you'll understand. I want to tell you one last thing before we depart ways for only a little while. Be extraordinary, be hopeful. Fall in love, live your life. Be the person you set out to be. I mean this with everything I am, you are amazing. - Harriet

In her Will she left me all the journals, and anything I want from the store could be mine. I read that letter every year on her birthday. Since she had written that in a journal, only using the first page, I took that to my advantage. Each year on Harriet's birthday, I write about the past year of my life. It feels complete when I do that.

The journals meant so much to me, everything I am is wrote within those pages.

The only person I let read them was Dane. Not my mother or father, nor my brother and sister. Dane wouldn't judge me. No matter what he would never judge, or laugh at my feelings. Every time I finished one I would give it to him to read. He understood my feelings, and was always there for me. I loved him for that, when I needed to talk Dane would listen. Never once would he judge what I felt.

Yes, I trusted Talus and Elyse, but they weren't Dane. He is a jackass, and overprotective, but he understands me in ways nobody can. I understood him too, he is very cryptic, but also very deep. I actually made him keep a journal once. It was when I was 15 and he was 21, both primal ages.

Reading his thoughts were fascinating. He never opened up to people, but words flew on the pages like a water rushing between rocks. At the end of his journal he said something that will stick with me forever.

So I wait for the world to make something of me. To show me my life is worth living. It hasn't happened yet, but hopefully it will. I want to be known for having the epitome of a fulfilled life. - Dane

I can't explain why this hit me so hard, but feelings like this coming from the brother I know to be unbreakable, were rare. The entire journal was filled with emotions and words that are so unbelievable it was breathtaking.

Dane has changed now. He's as cold as ice at some times. Most people can't see through the walls he built but I sure can. When I look into his eyes I see pain, anger, frustration, vengeance, and even a small portion of love. I don't think I've seen him smile in over a year. It's heartbreaking.

Although, everything change when our family was torn apart. When my parents died I was in the custody of no one. Meaning I spent a month in foster care. Let me tell you that month was hell, and torture. But that story is for another day.

Nothing was the same after they died. I stopped writing, Dane stopped caring, and Talus stopped trying. Things only started to get back to normal two months ago, when they announced our moving. Neither one of them realized I was still dying inside. When I stopped writing a part of me stopped thinking. The last journal entry was on the birthday, saying how that day was gonna be great

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So this is a little flashback/reminiscing chapter.
Just a little piece of Rayan's past.
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Picture of the journals ^ or >