Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Now what was I supposed to do with the rest of my day? There really wasn’t much to do. I could go to the local library I guess, but there wasn’t much there that I didn’t already own.
That had been my one comfort over the years; scrounging yard sales and thrift shops for second hand books. It’s where I learnt my love for the classics, since that’s mostly what I found in those places.
They had helped fuel my overactive imagination, sent me on adventures to far off places.
Kind of like my dreams. Always after one of those dreams, I would feel as if I’d crossed the ocean, or walked in a strange land.
I didn’t want to think about those dreams. If I did that, then I’d have to think of ‘him’, and I refuse to anymore.
In order not to die of boredom, and to keep myself from dwelling on the nameless one, I have to come up with something to do.
But I didn’t really feel like going to the library. Truth is, I didn’t want to be around people.
Just go home and lick your wounds Jazz. Or try to figure out how Thorn Azarov had ran you off that beach without even stepping foot on the sand. Because I had no doubt that he had been in the wind. That’s it, I’ve finally lost my mind.
***
The house felt empty once I got home, and I busied myself tidying up. There wasn’t much to do, since the lady who comes once a week had already been here.
I kept hearing things, but put that down to an old house resting, or whatever they say it meant.
The wind outside did sound kind of wild for this time of day with no storm warnings. A peek out the window was no help. The sky was a weird mix of almost clear, to pewter grey, almost black in some.
I got a chill down my back and stepped away from the window, looking around furtively. There was something out there; I could feel it.
Maybe I should lay off the horror flicks, and ghost stories. I’d never really had much time alone before; mom was always near, which was strange come to think of it.
For someone who was always in flight, she seemed to always be there when it was time for me to come home. Sometimes I think she was afraid to be alone herself. Funny, I never thought of that before now.
Now I had all this time on my hands and nothing to do with myself but mope around the house and think of you know who.
When that only made me more miserable, I tried watching TV, but there was nothing there to hold my interest.
The house was making those strange noises again and outside the wind had picked up. I went to the window and was just in time to see headlights turning the corner at the end of the street.
My heart kicked up its pace and I had no doubt as to who it had been. Had he been sitting out there watching the house?
But why would he do that? Why didn’t he just come to the door like a normal person? Maybe because he’s not normal? I stood there for far too long before turning back into the room.
My stupid heart did feel a little warm that he’d been here watching after me. It struck me as odd that I wasn’t afraid, that my first instinct was to trust him.
Somehow along the way, my mother’s blatant distrust of everything and everyone had given me a healthy dose of the same.
But even when he was being the big bad wolf, I didn’t feel fear; what I felt was more like a knowing.
I must’ve dosed off, because when next I opened my eyes, it was almost dusk outside. ‘Wow Jasmine, you must’ve been real tired, you slept the whole day away.’ I muttered to myself as I left the couch.
Dad was staying with Barney overnight, so I was on my lonesome for the rest of the evening.
I warmed up some leftovers and vegged out in front of the TV, before heading off to bed later that night.
The day hadn’t been so bad, but now I wish I hadn’t gone after all. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d messed up somehow, but each time I felt it, I pushed it aside.
I hadn’t done anything wrong and I refuse to feel guilty for disobeying a cryptic order from a complete stranger, who’d obviously moved on. But why had he been sitting outside? Or had that even been him?
No one had mentioned a girlfriend, but it wouldn’t be a stretch for someone like him to have one, probably one in every town between here and Connecticut.
With that lowering thought, I slapped my pillow into submission and tried to fall asleep.