Opening the window, the cool air of the night swept in, a breeze pushing back the strands of my dark hair. Taking a deep breath, I savored the sweet scent of freshly cut grass and of the nature that surrounded the small shack of a house before snapping out of it. I had priorities.
Priority number one: turning the lights off and getting into bed.
Priority number two: staying awake and reading more about this ‘Maria’.
Grinning at how much of a teenage spy I felt like, I left the window open, choosing not to close it till I actually did decide to go to bed. The lights that flickered inside the room were mainly the source of the streetlamps outside rather than the bulbs above me. As effective as they were, I doubted turning them off would make much of a big difference but decided not to risk it.
Then, I slipped under the covers of my bed, twisting around to turn on a small but handy night lamp behind me. It wasn’t too bright nor dull but just perfect as I reached for the diary on my bed-side table. The soft fabric of the cover caused a thrill to run through me. I’d never read a person’s diary before, let alone a girl’s. So this felt like an adventure to me. An adventure I didn’t want to delay.