[COMPLETED]
[THE NUTCRACKER meets CHAMBER OF SECRETS meets HAMLET]
PREVIOUSLY ADDED TO THE OFFICIAL @mystery profile's READING LIST
GENRE: Paranormal
"Time wasn't faithful, it never is."
Lindsey Knightley has had a strained relationship with her...
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Everything will end in embers and ashes.
The sides of my face itch as if sharp grass has pricked into my pores. Slowly opening my eyes, I find that I actually am lying on grass that is void of all moisture.
Allison and Ethan are sitting, slightly rubbing their temples as I get up and the heavy clouds in the sky greet my vision.
I press the tip of my hand against the back of my sore neck as frostbite evades the air I let out.
Your brother knows more than he lets you on.
"Where's Dylan?"
Ironically, I've been asking that question for the past seven years.
"I'm here." A loud grunts follows as Dylan tries to stand up from behind me. Allison and Ethan are already on their feet.
Dylan and I stumble slightly in our tracks and mount ourselves for the memory ahead.
Dylan rubs his temples as I gaze over the area; we are in the far left side of the gardens. The warm red roses present in the first memory have withered away to lush white roses. Among those roses, a single begonia lies stranded within.
Begonia means beware.
The symphony of flute notes rustles in the wind, making us all turn our heads towards it.
It's coming from somewhere near the gates.
I look back at the rose bushes and see that the begonia is gone.
What the....
"Lindsey, come on." Dylan shakes my hand from the side and his eyes widen a bit before they normalise. He lets go and says, "Why is your hand ice cold?"
I remove my hand from his palm and put it my jacket's pocket. My hands are cold most of the time.
"Just slow metabolism, I guess." I fasten my arms and walk forward, crunching the grass at my feet as everybody scrambles towards the melody.
Maybe, that's why the hum always sounds melodious.
Don't. Say. Always.
Ah, my Potterhead mind strikes again.
From my peripheral vision, I see Allison and Ethan at my side while Dylan is nearby. Everywhere around me there is mist, with a touch of rainwater enveloping.
"Please stop playing that flute, Timothy"
I stop in my tracks as do the others at the mention of Timothy.
