“FATHER!” I yell, running throughout the house. I manage to trip over my own feet, landing in front of his study. The door is closed, he must be out. My eyes saddened, how can he do this to me, to my mother? The note explains that he is going to sell all of her antiques and her most prized possessions. The note looks as if it has been written a long time ago, its tattered form looking as if it could tare by the slightest touch. The ink is fading, but it is still readable. The envelope, however is a new one, the stamp is freshly pressed in the corner of the sachet. I don’t understand though, father has lots of money since his writing is a huge hit, so why does he need more money? Is he selfish?
A gush of wind ran throughout the house, touching my hair. I take notice that one of the windows is open, showing me the moving picture we call an outside world. Birds fly across the sky, as I hear people chatting as they walk past the house. The smell of the ocean breeze reaches my nose, swiftly making its way to my sense of smell. The sun smiles down on everyone, everyone but me that is. A shadow makes its way over to me, covering me in its darkness and sorrow. There are a few clouds in the sky, but they’re all white and fluffy, nothing to do with bad weather. It’s such a perfect day, but everything comes with a price I guess.
I sit myself in front of the study door, opening the note again to read its evidence. The note read something about the bank and father doesn’t have any money so he is thinking of resigning his job as a writer. Why though? Father’s books are hitting big throughout the East, everywhere in fact, so why does he need to sell mother’s stuff? It also says something about how the economy is bringing home down and all that. I really didn’t know what he meant by this, so I give up. I fold the paper in half and slide it back into its envelope. I slump down even more towards the ground, when is he coming home?
Sleeping is such a pleasant thing. It makes you dream of things that you wish happen but then to wake up and realise that it will never. I wish I knew why we even have dreams, father’s books doesn’t explain anything. He says it’s because of will power that we think throughout the night or something, but that’s confusing. To my mother, dreaming is seeing the unimaginable come to life. That makes some sense, but at the same time it doesn’t. I groan in annoyance at this thought, I don’t know what to think of dreams. This may seem strange to talk about, but I can’t help it. I’m reading one of my father’s works, Dreams Can Come True: How To Make It Happen. It’s rather interesting, but at the same time demanding. Yet again, he’s always so demanding when he writes, so what am I talking about?
The door opens and shuts again; I’m guessing father’s home. That’s good; I need to have a word with him. I won’t be mean, but I won’t be soft either. He enters my view, raising a brow, “Gia, why are you outside my study for?”
I hold the note in his view, “To ask you about this.”
He’s expression turns into a concerned one, “Gia…”
“Why would you do this? You can’t sell mother’s things, she apart of the family!” I point at one painting of her on the wall, “You can’t do this to her, you just can’t!”
He leans against the wall, sliding down, “I know, Gia. But the thing is, I have to. If it wasn’t for the economy crises that we’re having, then it’s the fact that I’m not getting enough money than I’m supposed to be getting!” He rubs his forehead, “They’re taking everything away from me.”
I’m confused, “Taking everything away from you? What do you mean?”
“The publisher’s. I have no idea why though…”
My eyes widen in shock, “They can’t do that, father! It’s your work; it’s your money they’re taking away from you!” I start to walk to the door, “I’m going there right no-”
He stops me, waving his hands in front of his face, “No! Gia, don’t! I’ll figure out some way! Just don’t, they don’t like you!”
I scoff, “Doesn’t everyone?”
“Gia, I’m being serious.”
“And I’m being serious too!” I place a hand on my chest, pointing out the door, “I will march down there and demand to know why!”
He stares at me, “I’m begging you…”
I sigh in defeat, “At least let me get a job so we can earn more money!”
He looks at the time, chuckling, “If you can get one by six, I’ll be satisfied.”
I nod, noticing that it was four thirty in the afternoon. I grab his book from the floor, and dash out the door, “I’ll be seeing you at six!”
I walk at a fast pace towards the town. The town is such a nice place, its cosy atmosphere and homey stores; this is such a nice place. The centre of the town is crowded with people rushing past to get last minute things for themselves. The stores don’t close until seven, so I wonder why they’re in such a rush. A pond is seen in my eyes on the other side of one store, shining as the sun kisses its watery covering. I walk up to it, staring at myself. My reflection is all the same, nothing ever changes. There’s the same violet hair, the same blue eyes and the same bow in my hair. Nothing ever changes, that includes me.
However, I’m not going to give up just yet. I open my father’s book, looking for a chapter. There’s this one chapter, oddly, about how to get a job around these parts of town. I flip through the pages, finally finding that stupid chapter. The first words that appear are an introduction about dream jobs and how to make it happen. I groan, flipping to the steps. Instructions are always easier to follow and read anyway.
Step One: To get your dream job, you need the people to back you up.
Step Two: Find your job.
Perfect. I know just the person. I run towards a café of some sort, tapping on the window. My best friend stares at me as if I’m insane. I laugh, motioning for her to come outside. She stares flatly at me, “What do you want, Gia? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
I laugh, “Yep! But I need your help, Auralee!”
She crosses her arms, “What?”
I grin, “Get me a job!”
“Get me a job here! Your family is looking for new recruits, right?! So why not me?!”
She sighs, “I don’t know…”
I go on my knees, “PLEASE?!”
She walks inside for one minute, shaking her head. I get to my feet, realising that people were staring at me as if I were an insane person. She comes back with a form, rubbing her eyes, “Just sign and come tomorrow…Wearing a dress please…”
I hug her, “YOU’RE A LIFESAVER!”
She flinches, pushing me away, “Yeah, one that doesn’t need a block ear.” She waves, “I’ll be calling you tonight.”
I nod, walking away. Father’s books are right, they always are. As I take a stroll throughout the town, I notice a man staring at me. I couldn’t recognize him with his coat that covered his legs, but I could see a strand of hair. It was golden, the sun’s colour. I pick up my pace, deciding to go to the library. As I turn a corner, I trip on my own feet again. I look up, noticing a little note.
Opening it, I scanned the contents. It said this:
If your name is Gia, meet me at the abandoned library at precisely five o’clock sharp. I need to discuss something with you.
I raise a brow, looking around. He was nowhere to be seen, yet I got this feeling that he knows something I don’t. I stand, looking around. I want to go to this place, but I don’t know where it is.