Prophecy

407

"Wow, you actually learned something useful from textbooks. All we learned was how to tell the difference between a dicot and a monocot flower, but I don't think that can save anyone's life." He looks over at Wyatt and she shakes her head then turns to me.

"Actually I love plants so both are useful to me," I tell James just before Wyatt starts to talk to me.

"So, the book. What's the plan with reading it?"

I take a deep breath, "I don't know. I have no idea what to do--"

"We'll go back to my place, that's where the key is along with the book, and we'll read it there," a deep voice says from behind me, I turn and see Ashton, standing tall and confident. Almost like he was ready for another fight, but I can see the tiredness behind his eyes, aching for sleep and time to heal.

I look nervously at Wyatt, then James, they both give me look, whatever you want to do....

"Okay," I say shortly.

Ashton nods, "Follow me, my apartment isn't too far from here, about a five minute walk." He walks pass us and I bite my lip hesitantly before following.

It's for my book, it's for my book....

"How do we know we can trust this guy?" I hear James whisper to Wyatt behind me.

"We don't," she whispers back. I imagine her shrugging the way she always did when there was nothing to do about the situation; pierced lips, tight shoulders, eye contact. Something about the gesture comforts me, not sure why, maybe just the familiarity of Wyatt.

I focus back on Ashton ahead of me, watching him as he moves, the slight limp in his left leg, the silent grace, the strange aura radiating from him. Power, strength, brokenness.

It's for my book....

But it's not my book.

I suddenly don't want to keep going, I want to just stop in the middle of the poorly lit street and not go any further. Because the one thing I actually thought was mine, was never completely mine at all. It was always his too, even if he had no idea where it was or who had it.

There was so many times when I was so close to breaking that lock, to finding a way to remove it without damaging the book, but I never could. I could never bring myself to read it or open it or even try. I always thought that one day I would be ready, ready for whatever was on the opposite side of that cover. What if it was something my parents wrote? What if it was the first and last words they would ever say to me?

I am not ready. I'm not ready at all. Because what if all that is behind those covers is blank pages. What if I will never get to know who my parents are and what they are like. I've been holding on to this book all of my life. If it is just a meaningless book I don't know what I'll do.

I didn't realize I was falling behind until Wyatt taps me on the shoulder. "Are you alright? I know this must be hard for you since that book means the world to you."

"Yeah it just feels like I don't know anything about my real family because that is the only thing I have of my parents. Then I find out it's not even mine. I'm nervous to see what's in the book. I've been waiting my whole life to see what is in there. I'm scared it will just disappoint me."

"It will be okay. I believe that your parents are good people and that they had to give you up. They left you with that book for a reason. I think you'll find the answers to all of your questions in that book," Wyatt reassures me. I nod, even though the thought of opening it still turns my stomach.

Just as Ashton said, we get to his building in about five minutes. It's not as tall as the rest of the buildings around it and a little dirtier, the bricks crumbling in a few places. There are a few lights on, shining through small poorly cleaned windows and flowers I recognize as morning glories growing up the sides. Most of the flowers are wilted and the vines take up most of the walls.

"Come on," Ashton says looking over his shoulder at us. We follow numbly behind him as he uses a key to get into the main door. It creaks loudly and shuts behind James heavily with a slam. Ashton starts to climb the old wooden stairs straight in front of us, they moan under every foot steps and the sour smell of mold spores assaults my nose.

We reach what I think is the fourth floor when Ashton splits off from the stairs and walks down a narrow hallway. After what feels like forever, we stop at a door, small and green with the paint peeling off and the numbers 407 hanging crooked.

He opens the door into a studio apartment, small with a low hanging ceiling, but as clean as it could get. No pictures hung on the walls, there's nothing that indicates that a person with memories even lives here. Bare, only the necessities taking up as little space as possible. Ashton moves to the other side of the room towards the small kitchen and pulls out my book and a key.

"Cute," James says as he moves further into the room. "A friend of mine has a place like this. Nice kid, I guess, little egocentric and a bit strange but..." He looks over to Wyatt, "You should meet him."

"Pass," she says looking around the room.

"Well, doing what I do, this is the best place I could afford," Ashton says walking back towards us with the items in hand.

"No judgment here buddy. It's a roof over your head, I get that," James raises his hands defensively in a joking manner and shrugs.

"Can we just get to opening the book?" The words surprise me even as they spill out of my mouth. I guess I'm more eager to see what's inside than I thought. Even though this could be the biggest disappointment of my life or the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I'm tired of guessing what words are scrolled on the pages.

"Right," Ashton moves towards me and holds out the book and key. I look at them confused for a moment before he explains. "You have had the book for your entire life, don't you want to be the one to open it?"

I reach my hand out and he places them in my palm, I bring them closer to me and stare at the lock and key.

It's so simple.

After all these years and it's this simple.

So why is this so hard?

I thought I had decided, I wanted to know. Now that it's sitting right in front of me, right in my hands, I'm not sure. Right now anything I wanted could be in this book, my mother's diary with all her thoughts, a book my parents kept just for me, the reason they left me. But as soon as I open it all those possibilities disappear and all I'm left with is something I might not even want to know.

I swallow thickly and place the key in the lock then turn it, it clicks and the lock pops open.