*ker-chak*
The old lock on the gate creaked in a loud noise when Mrs. Arne unlocked it with one of the old keys from the bunch. Opening the old wooden gate of the storehouse, a dusty and almost dark room welcomed Airi's view.
"You stay right there. I'll go take that out and come back." Airi's mother signaled to wait for her outside the gate and she went inside the room, taking cautious steps one by one.
But it was extremely dusty there, and there was almost no light. Rather, the light coming through those small windows was making it way worse.
'She is gonna start coughing again…'
"I'll do it, just step aside. Otherwise, you are gonna end up coughing again. Just tell me where it is."
Mrs. Arne halted in her steps by the sudden interruption of her daughter. She came back outside carefully, "It's on that last shelf, you'll find it on the third section."
"Okay, I'll go take it myself."
"But… will you be okay…"
"Yeah, I told ya', I am good. Just you don't catch those huge bags of dust."
Airi went in carefully, watching her steps while looking out for the boxes on her way to avoid stepping on them and falling down. Her eyes soon adjusted to the darkness, but it was hard to move ahead even an inch. The storehouse was also stuffy with all the dust and the scarcity of air.
She slowly reached to the last shelf and looked through the third section on it. There was a black-colored diary, some notebooks, and some books, that appeared to be hers from middle school. There were also some little boxes, some were decorated with beautiful stones and designs on them, and some boxes were just simply made of hardboard, or cartons to be precise.
"The only diary here is this black one, does it actually belong to someone who is practically obsessed with pink?" She kept wondering to herself. She looked around some more just in case anything else slipped off of the shelf, or she missed out anything. But there wasn't anything else that could be labeled as a personal journal or something like that.
So, she took the black diary she found before and flipped through some of its pages. There were written a lot of things on those pages, which was undoubtedly, in her handwriting.
'Similar handwriting as well, such an ominous feeling a black color is giving me for the first time.'
"Did you find it? Should I come there and help?" Mrs. Arne shouted from the gate.
"Nah, it's fine. I already found it." Airi answered back, raising her voice a bit. She looked at the shelf again, which was filled up with all her old stuff, at least the way those appeared to be. She had the sudden urge to look through those things. "But that hafta wait," she looked at her hand holding the diary, "this is the priority right now." And she left the storehouse.
Upon returning to the home, Airi went upstairs to her room, letting Mrs. Arne bring breakfast to her room.
"Not having breakfast with them will make them sad, but I need to utilize every second I get." Airi kept that thought to herself.
When Airi went back to her room taking her diary, without even saying anything else, the old couple sat at the dining table, having an upset look clear on their faces.
Mr. Arne let out a sigh as he said, "Guess that's how long we were supposed to see our daughter happy."
Mrs. Arne looked at her husband with tear-filled eyes. "We were having such a good time these past couple of days. Why did her memories have to come back, dear?"
Mr. Arne patted her back to calm her down. "I hope she doesn't take any other dangerous steps. Was that a wise decision to give that back to her?"
"We couldn't let her anger take over her reasoning now, could we? Who knows what she would have done if we hadn't given her that? We can't let that happen again. You know how she is."
Mr. Arne slumped to his chair. "I know, that's why I am worried. It's a relief that she isn't behaving the way she used to, and nor is she ignoring us. She has been communicating well, at least.
"Yeah, I guess we should hold onto that hope, and let her heal on her own."
At the time Airi's parents were feeling all anxious and down about the turn of events, Airi sat on her study table with the diary in her hand.
Airi braced herself by patting her thumping chest with her right hand. "Here it comes Airi. The way things are looking, the way people behave around you, is so not gonna be omoshiroi. Brace yourself, dude."
She looked at the diary again, with a bit of fear and hesitation, "This ominous little thing, even 'Death Note' didn't creep me out this much."
But she was already too much involved in it. And there was no way she could ignore her very own lifetime.
"Well, you got this Airi."
Collecting all the courage points, she entered the next level of her survival game.
Opening the diary, she saw the first page with three or four sentences written on it. Like some kind of prologue or disclaimer before starting a movie or a story.
"If you are reading this, thanks Shiro, for granting this wish of mine. You can't even imagine how happy that would make me. I wish you could see, but trust me, I would be sitting beside you all happy while you are reading this. Just treat it as some kind of Arne Frank's diary haha. And after that, burn it away, and forget everything about it."
"Thank God it's me myself, otherwise, there is no way I could read this ahead anymore with the thought of someone creeping beside me." Airi turned to the second page to read ahead. And as she continued to read ahead, things about her kept unwrapping page by page.
------
I never thought I would face a day when I will start writing a diary. Because to me, a diary was always something for someone who has untold stories in them. Thoughts, concerns for people, events to share, happy or sad, in their life. You know, that kind of fulfilling person. A hollow person like me, what could I possibly have to write down? So, this was the only thing I didn't get any interest in, at all. But now that I have come to this point where I have no path to move forward, even just a step ahead, and I will go down a narrow steep, I am having this sudden urge to write a diary. I don't have that much time to blabber about my entire life, and I promise I won't do that. I guess I am going to write about the things I would like to say to you. I know it is going to have no use if the person in question is not there anymore. Yet, I will do you this favor and tell you all the things I want to. Oops, did I sound rude? Guess I can never become good with words...
You know, Samuel sir? Sophomores do get his classes, right? He often tells a thing, I don't know if he has told this in your class or not. Samuel sir told us that every human has a certain behavior in their instincts, that is, to make themselves exist, even if they die, and leave this world forever. Cool, right? He even told me to call him Sam, how friendly that sounds right? So think of this diary as an attempt to make myself exist in this world, even if as someone who deserves hatred according to you.
Well then, I won't make this stretch any longer, if you still intend to turn this page over to the next, can I dare to think of myself as at least worth having a place in your life that you hate, or loathe?
After reading until this point, Airi closed her eyes clutching her temples with her thumb and index finger. "What the hell are ya' doin' Airi? If you did somethin', just apologize, and get over with it. If that doesn't work, then repent or somethin'. And if you are that weak, then just go die peacefully. Why do you gotta go seekin' hatred like a pathetic li'l sh*t? You know how pitiful you look?"
*knock knock*
She got interrupted in her thoughts by the light knock on the door.
"Airi, shall I keep your breakfast by the door?"
It was Mrs. Arne.
"Yeah, keep it. I will take it later." Airi answered her back from inside.
'I shouldn't face them right now. Just down there, I let my emotions get the better of me.'
After the footsteps receded, she opened the door to take the tray of food.
There was a bowl of cereal and a large mug of hot chocolate. Having a sip of the steaming hot chocolate, she felt her nerves calm down to a lot of extent. "Oh, that sure hit the spot."
'Now it makes me feel worse. I behaved so rudely back there, yet they prepared such a perfect breakfast.'
'They are so considerate.'
But the way she saw her behavior towards them in her dream, "I wonder if this is more from fear than care."