The streets in the neighborhood of Quantico were relatively quiet.
Sure, the occasional sound of a car passing by and the chirping of the birds and the air through the leaves could be heard if you sat still enough, but the silence of the neighborhood was a pensive one. One that was loud with the thoughts that ran through your mind.
Thus it was when Janiel and Eleanor walked up to a house. It was where Janiel resided. A modest home, it was, made of small neat white bricks, surrounded by a small lot of lively green grass.
Janiel walked along the path up to the door, and Eleanor ran her hand over the bushes that surrounded the path.
Janiel fished out the keys from his pocket once he and Eleanor were both at the door, and once the door was free, they both stepped in the house.
It was as silent inside as it was outside.
Eleanor turned to Janiel. "Is your family home?"
He shrugged and said, "Never mind them. They are all at work."
He led her over to the dining room, and she placed her backpack onto the table and pulled out from it the books.
"Every single quote was meant to be given at a specific place."
Janiel frowned, "What do you mean?"
Eleanor slid the books for him to look.
"This quote, I can look for someone in a restaurant."
Janiel nodded.
"This one at... The flower displays at the exhibitions downtown."
Eleanor nodded.
"There's just two more to go."
Janiel seemed to light up. "This one, there's a Native American section at the museum."
Eleanor slammed the four books shut preventing Janiel from obtaining a glance at the last one.
"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"
YOU ARE READING
Finding Myself
Horror"The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; men alone are quite capable of every wickedness." Joseph Conrad ..... Eleanor had spent her whole life with her happy-go-lucky family, at least, until a dark June night. The last day of...
