[6]

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Emma jumped from box to box, searching through each of them as she tried to find the one she was so sure still held some of her belongings. It was like this every time they moved again. They'd unpack as much as they could until they were either bored of it or exhausted, at which point the rest of the boxes simply got stored away for a later time. Or never.

"Come on. If I were a box full of books, where would I be?" The brunette talked to herself as she gave up on another box filled with Tupperware. She couldn't help but wonder who in their right mind needed so much of it?

Moving on to some of the boxes stored further away in the attic, one particular caught her eye. Sometimes when they moved, the cardboard boxes moved with them, salvaged and saved so they wouldn't have to buy new ones. But after so many years, she was surprised to see a box she remembered they'd bought when they first moved away from New Orleans back in 2006.

Seeing the familiar logo printed on one of the sides, Emma couldn't help herself as she walked towards it. She wondered what could possibly be in it that they hadn't unpacked it even once. Neither she nor her mother were the hoarding type, not after moving so much. So, if the contents of the box were so trivial, why hadn't they just thrown it away?

Kneeling down beside it, Emma pulled a pair of scissors from her back pocket, using them to help her remove the duct tape and open up the box. As the flaps were pushed aside, looking in, Emma saw a whole load of notebooks and yellowing pieces of paper scattered inside.

Unable to recognize anything within the box, Emma pulled out one of the notebooks, blowing away the dust which had managed to collect on top of it before reding out the name written out on the front cover.

"Jonathan Park." She breathed out in surprise. Suddenly it made sense why her mother hadn't disposed of the box and its contents long ago. Reading through the words written on top of the notebook covers, Emma soon discovered they had all belonged to her father. Guessing by the dates adorning all of them, Emma assumed the notebooks to be journals.

Unable to resist her own curiosity, Emma opened the one she held in her hand. the first page was dates as 19th July, 2006. Emma realized the entry wasn't long before her father's disappearance.

'I met with Marcel last night. He's decided not to help me with Emma. He's the fifth to do so. I've come to the conclusion it is best if I do it myself. But first, I must become one of them, no matter the consequences.'

Emma's brows furrowed as she read her father's words. She remembered the way her father was throughout the year before he disappeared, so desperate to find a cure, some miracle medicine or some new procedure that would help her. She understood that must've been what he meant by helping her, but the rest she did not understand.

She searched through her memories for someone named Marcel, wondering whether it belonged to one of her former doctors in New Orleans. But, unable to connect the name to a face, she focused on the other questions roaming through her mind. What was he planning that he had to 'become one of them'? And who were they in the first place? Did he mean becoming a doctor?

Looking back into the box, Emma wondered whether the earlier notebooks would hold more answers. Pulling out her phone, Emma checked the time. Her mother was bound to come back from work soon, but the brunette believed she still had enough time to get the box out of the attic and back to her room.

A part of her thought that perhaps she should just ask her mum instead of doing all of this in secret, but after one more glance at the box, something inside of Emma told her that was not the way to get the answers she wanted. If her mother had kept this box from her all this time, always hidden away so she wouldn't find it, Emma knew mentioning it would be the wrong move to make.

Her mother rarely even spoke of her father. Whenever Emma had any questions before, back after he first disappeared, her mother would give her minimal answers. Never diving any deeper into what exactly he'd been doing before he went missing. That, paired with this hidden box made Emma suspect that her mother knew more than she'd ever let on.

It made her suspect that, perhaps, even looking through the box and the journals would be unwise, but she couldn't just close it back up and pretend she had never seen it. After her father's disappearance, Emma held out hope for so long that one day he would come back to them. Maybe whatever was hidden within this box would help her find out if that was ever even a possibility. Or at the very least, what happened to him.

And so she acted quickly, closing the box back up and carrying it out of the attic as fast as she could. Moving towards her room with the box in her arms, Emma suddenly heard the sound of the door unlocking further down the hall. It made her speed up, rushing into her room and towards the closet. Opening the wooden doors, she pushed the box as far into the back as possible, pulling some clothes and covers over it so it would be harder to spot in case her mother came into her room when she was doing laundry or for whatever other reason could come up.

"Don't tell me you still haven't unpacked all of your clothes?" The sound of her mother's voice coming from the doorway made Emma jump back and slam her closet shut as she sent a smile towards her mother, trying her best to seem as normal as possible.

"Oh no, I was just planning out what I would wear tomorrow. You know how it is in the start. It's the time for impressions and after that, someone's already hooked up and the new girl is old news, which is when I can start going in sweatpants and nobody would care." Emma lied quickly, coming up with the first thing that came to her mind.

"Unless the new girl is the one who hooked up with somebody." Marissa Park pointed out in a teasing tone, the words making Emma burst out laughing.

"Right, because I'm that type." She commented sarcastically, sending a pointed look towards her mother.

"Well, you never know..." Marissa shrugged her shoulders innocently, making Emma shake her head in amusement. The moment she focused on romance would be the moment the apocalypse was upon them. It was one thing she certainly wasn't looking for or in need of at this time in her life.

"Okay, how about we forget about my non-existent love life, and instead talk about lunch, huh?" Emma walked towards her mother, and wrapping her arms around the older woman's shoulders, led her out of the room.

"Oh that does sound like a much better topic." Marissa said in agreement, bringing both Park women to laugh as they moved through the hallway and made a distance from Emma's room, just how she wanted it.

As they laughed, Emma spared one last glance towards the door. The toughest part on the road to getting answers was over, now she just had to wait until she was alone again to go back to the box hidden away in her closet. Emma hoped she would get to do it soon.

Breathing ∞ Kol Mikaelson [1]Where stories live. Discover now