Resemblance

Chapter 2: Voices, shadows, and unlocked windows

A/N: Yeah, so, because of some suggestions, which I've thought about, I've decided to make this supposed-to-be short story an actual story - a long one.

I have to say it was really tough writing this chapter since I was so sure it'll just be a short story...no more. I didn't know how to begin. Actually I started writing chapter 2 in my cellphone 'cause I had nothing to do so I thought "Why not start chapter 2?"

So...yeah, here it is! I hope you like it! xDD and thanks to Innamorare by the way :)

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...Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;- '

Tis the wind and nothing more." 

-"The Raven", Edgar Allan Poe (6th stanza)    

                It was seven-thirty in the evening and I was still in the library, refusing to go to my room. I didn’t even want to think about sleeping. Earlier this morning, after I learned about the real meaning of my dreams, I was pretty much dumbfounded that I was walking like a zombie on my way to the kitchen to get some water. My mom was so worried she asked me if I was okay or if she said something wrong for like a hundred times. But I told her I was just overwhelmed by the whole thing with my great, great grandmother and her tragic love story and that I thought it was just horrible to end up like that.

                Of course I didn’t tell her about the “my-great-great-grandmother’s-lover-is-haunting-me” part. No. definitely not. She would have freaked out or worst-case scenario, she’d send me to the loony house. I was glad I got a hold of myself. I was so close to bursting out, “Mom, there’s a ghost stalking me every night we have to find another place, anywhere but here!”

                 Yes, definitely straight to the loony house.

                Nine-forty. I never left the library. I sat there, facing the stack of books I gathered a while ago to keep myself occupied. It seemed like it was the only place where I could be to keep myself sane. It was already dark, but lucky for me, the moon’s light was streaming through the floor-to-ceiling window, illuminating the room.

                It was really late now and everything was dead silent – I might as well hear a pin drop. I could clearly hear the winds rustling the leaves outside and it seemed like the ticking of the grandfather clock on the other side of the room got even louder, lulling me to sleep. I rubbed my eyes, keeping them open, but they were betraying me. I pinched my cheeks instead, but it was no use. My eyelids were still drooping, as if there was an invisible hand pushing them closed. Not knowing what to do, I hurriedly grabbed a book in front of me and opened it to a random page. It was a poem by Edgar Allan Poe.

                I read it out loud.

                “‘It was many and many a year ago, in the kingdom by the sea’,” I said, breaking the unbearable silence. “‘That a maiden there lived whom you may know, by the name of Annabel Lee.’” It was working. I was beginning to feel awake again.

I went on, “‘And this maiden she lived with no other thought than to love and –” I stopped, goose bumps rising up on my arms as I remembered the poem was once discussed in my 8th grade English class. It’s about two lovers; the girl’s kinsmen disapproved of them, the girl died, and because the boy loved her so much, he even slept beside her tomb every night just to be with her. It was very familiar. In fact it was all too familiar it’s almost like –