Chapter 4

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A couple of days passed in which Doomie couldn't
stop marveling at the familiar essence that she perceived in the mansion. Reading her grandmother's books entertained her for hours, until she decided to visit the little forest surrounding the property's lake, trying to imagine to her grandmother Gloomie walking those same roads in her youth and Doomie was proud to be similar to her. Doomie felt more and more firmly that she belonged to that place, which was her home and which was where she should be.

She had only one room left to visit, the room
of the grandmother. Even when the library had been something incredible, she considered that room to be without a doubt the most important and special.

That afternoon Doomie felt it necessary to go out and cut some  flowers to leave in her grandmother's room once she is there; something told her that there she would find more than only clothing or jewelry.

When she went up on the way to the room, she thought about how much she would like it to be her room and Blackwater her permanent home. It was a shame that no one would appreciate all that, and no matter how hard she tried, it became more and more difficult for her to remember her life before they reached the mansion. It was like always would have been there.

Finally she reached the door of the room and made up her mind to get in.

Everything there was beautiful. The bedding was velvet and the curtains that surrounded her were of fine lace; the closet, the perfume table and nightstands were black and elegant, on all the walls were bouquets of dried roses and framed paintings that must have belong to the grandmother. There were books everywhere and in the bedside table was the scarlet chandelier that should be a companion to the one Doomie had at home and the edition of Grandma's favorite book that she held when he died.

Doomie sat up in bed, picked up the book, and read the first twenty pages, fascinated. Now she understood why it was Grandma Gloomie's favorite book. Suddenly, when she looked up, she saw among the perfume bottles a picture frame that glowed brightly thanks to the light that it leaked from the window. She walked quickly to look at the photo it contained

Her heart was filled with happiness and tenderness upon discovering that the portrait was of Grandma Gloomie when she was young, and to her surprise they really looked a lot alike physically. Apparently the similar names and the personality was not the only thing they shared.

Doomie spent late in the afternoon reading avidly "Wuthering Heights" until she decided it was time to rest; left the bouquet of flowers that she had brought in the place where the book used to be, took the portrait of her grandmother and went to her room.

It was curious and more curious the fact that when she touched the portrait could feel like hugging her grandmother Gloomie, as if somehow strange and impossible, everything what was Gloom Westenra could be contained there, as if she could be with her. Crying she embraced the portrait, lay back on the bed and wished with all her heart always stay with her grandmother, stay where she was happy. She wished they could be together.




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Doomie in Blackwater Manor Where stories live. Discover now