Chapter 2- The Truth

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once upon a time, I just sat in a literature class with my head desperately trying to remember my dreams but it was no use. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't remember a thing. Was it just a coincidence? It had to be, there is not another logical reason. It was time to tell my parents about the dreams, if I could remember them at least.

The rest of the day went by a wiz and soon it was the end of the day. The day wasn't a total disappointment as I did make friends with Mina. Other than that I was just wondering how to explain my situation to my parents. I couldn't just say that I was having creepy dreams about a fairy-tale that clearly didn't exist. That would make me sound crazy and I don't want to spend my life in a mental asylum.

Once I had stepped into the house, I called out for my parents. "Mum, dad, I'm home," I yelled as I jogged up stairs. There was no reply so I just presumed that they weren't even at home. Dropping my bag beside my desk and spread into a star-fish position on my bed. Changing, I heard the door open then shut and then the same happening thirty seconds later so I knew that my parents were home.

Leaving my room, I sprinted to the living room where they most probably went to. When I saw them cuddling on the love seat, I was about to ran back but remembered what I came here for. "Mum, dad, keep it PG-13," I exclaimed as they were about to kiss making sure that they knew that I was not oblivious. They both blushed lightly and sat up properly.

"What is it honey?" my mum asked breaking the awkward silence.

"I need to tell you something important," I started as both my parents nodded for me to continue. So I explained everything from all the parts of the dream I could remember to the assignment. They just listened seriously as though there was something dangerous about it. After I was finished, my parents looked at each other than me then each other again. Finally my dad nodded at my mum like he wanted her to talk.

Sighing, my mother was the first to talk. "Juliette, there was something we wanted to talk to you about but what we say will definitely change everything," she said. I just started to nod like they did. She once again sighed and looked at my father who nodded back to her.

"Sweetheart, never read you too many fairy-tales because we wanted to make sure you didn't take over your mother's 'family business' but based on what we were just told, you have inherited their 'gifts'," my father explained using a lot of air speech marks. Before I could ask a question, my mother answered it for me.

"And my family business isn't a café or restaurant; instead we are story-hunters," she continued, "and story-hunters are basically people who have to be involved in a certain story based on real life situations to then capture the villain in the story. For example, the big bad wolf in your case. Before you say that this is untrue, I want to show you a book if this day had ever come."

When she finished, my parents stood up and started walking upstairs with me following shortly behind me. If they expect me to believe a story like that, they better have strong proof. Reaching to a stop, my dad pulled the lofts ladder up so then my mother could climb in. I patiently wait five minutes before my mum comes climbing back down with two books in her arms. Turning to me, she showed me a very familiar book. It was picture of a small girl in a spot-light red hood, standing in a dark forest of what looked like dying trees with a small woven picnic basket in hand. It was Little Red Riding Hood. Why would my mother show me the book of my nightmares?

Then she put the book in my father's arms and showed me the next one. The next book I had never seen before. It was an average size book with a rusty brown cover and old golden pages. The book screamed ancient through all the dust. "What is it?" I finally ask.

"It is the proof, inside your whole has been illustrated so it becomes like a picture book. Even the secrets you kept from everybody are inside this very book," she said as she urged the book towards me. As I took the book out of my mother's grasp very slowly, I noticed it wasn't as heavy as I thought it would be. "The book is called the grimoire because my family's name is Grimm," she added.

"I'm a descendent of a Grimm," I practically screamed. They just nodded and pointed their fingers to the book. Dismissing them with my hand, I walked over to my room to read the 'grimoire'.

I opened a so called book the recorded my entire life. Once I had opened it, I was shocked to see my whole life professionally sketched in a 'magical' book. I knew for a fact that my parents couldn't draw even if their lives could depend on it. So if it wasn't them then who could it be? Was the book really magical?

I couldn't be thinking about this when there was school tomorrow so I just shut the grimoire and put it on top of my whit wooden desk. I then went back to my dream.


Hey supersmilers, just





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