She sits on her bed, dusty with age, flipping though a journal of her own, similar to her father's. She ran her fingertips over the words, remembering his scratched, faded handwriting. 'Papa... did you mean to leave Mama here alone..?' she sighs softly, looking at the ceiling. 'Am I meant to be alone too...'
She flipped through her journal, glancing at her father's journal, remembering the hours of her life she'd spent poring over the words, trying to find out what happened to him. Did he just leave, or was it an accident? Did he mean to leave their family?
Her brother had never truly gotten over the fact that he had gone. She sighed again, the sound forlorn and lonely. 'I miss you..' she thought, looking out the window. 'I miss all of you..'
She looked at a picture on the wall, standing and going over to it, touching its frame gently. 'The Dreym..' A tall, elf-like creature, the Dreym were fabled and seldom seen, but told to have the power to grant wishes to those who need them the most.
'I wonder... How many days has it been..' Calendars lay strewn about the floor, the days all crossed off. 'Too many to count...' she closed her eyes, flopping back on the bed. Her dark, ebony hair spread out behind her, and she exhaled deeply, wishing for things to change for her.
In a town full of fishermen, many new and interesting people came about every day. None seemed to see her, although she was one of the only things that really stayed the same around the town. Her, and the broken down clock tower. The house she lived in always was changing, with new paint that never stayed on, chipping and flaking off. She looked out the window at the clock tower, watching it very slowly move from one minute to the next, watching that hand, moving as she didn't.