The Brilliance Of The Raven Chapter 4

October 17, 2004 Dear Diary,

When I woke up this morning everything was peaceful. It seemed like a beautiful Saturday morning. For a split second I felt happy. Then I remembered the events that had taken place the night before. I was reminded of my dead fish, fighting parents, and running out of my house. What really makes me mad is how my parents didn't even notice that I had left. It was even worse how Matt had laughed about it all.

I crept downstairs. I didn't bother brushing my hair or even changing my clothes. I was dressed in my clothing from the night before. Infact, I still had my shoes on.

I looked out the window in the hallway at the driveway. Dad's car was gone. Mom was still asleep. Matt was no where to be found. Slowly, I sat on the stairs. What would I do? What should I do? What could I do? I decided to forget these questions.

Then a suden whim struck me. I don't know why I had it, but I did. Something drew me to my brothers room. I don't know what it was, but it was there. His room was dark and gloomy. It reminded me of a dungon that was waiting for its next victom to be thrown in. I thought about going back, but I couldn't. Imagination took over my mind as I thought about murderers and ghosts lurking behind each corner.

For some reason, I started opening up all of his cabinets and drawers. It was as if I was trying to look for something. Maybe I was. Perhaps, I was looking for something to make everything make sense. I can't really remember.

Finally, I came apon the bottom drawer of his dresser. It was stuck. I pulled and pulled until finally I busted it open. What was in it shocked me. I don't know which made me jump more, the Playboy magazines, the needles, or the book about how to commit suicide. My stomach grew ill. Was this really my brother? I knew he had problems, but not ones like these. I felt like slamming the drawer shut and running away forever, but I didn't. I just kept on looking. There were a bunch of papers all over the place. I pickes them up and stuffed them in my pant pockets.

"What the **** are you doing in here, Alicia?!" The voice made me freze. It was Matt. Dozens of thoughts ran throgh my head. I started panicking. I turned around very slowly. He was at the door. "What are you doing here?!" I started breathing heavily. "Get the **** out of here!!!" I jumped up and ran out the door. I didn't stop. I just kept running and running till I was far from my house. My hands were shaking.

"Well, hello again, youngin'." The voice startled me. When I turned around I saw the old homeless lady I had met from the night before. "Sorry about that, sweetie. It's just me." I think she could tell that I was nervous. "What's wrong? You c'n tell me."

"my brother's gonna kill me."

"Now, why's that?"

"I found his secret stash."

She looked confused. "Secret stash?"

"Yeah, I found a whole lot of stuff in his dresser that freaked me out and then he caught me."

"Well, I suppose ya can hang out here fer now."

"Thanks." I sat down by the old lady. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Everyone calls me Mrs.Raynolds, but ya can call me Mary. Who are you?"

"I'm Alicia. I live down the street."

"Well it's good ta see ya again."

Mary could still sense my unstableness. "Don't worry, hon. It'll be all right." She pulled out a cigarette and lit it. I guess I must of been staring at it funny, because she asked me, "Do ya smoke?"

"What?! No, I don't," I replied, very shocked that she would even ask.

"Really? I started when I was ten, though, I wish I hadn't. They wrinkle your skin, ya know?"

"Yeah, I know." The two of us talked for a while till I decided to go home.

"Good luck. I hope yer brother doesn't kill ya."

"I hope so, too," I whispered.

When I got home my mom's car was gone. Matts shoes where gone, so I assumed that he had left. Carefully, I walked up the stairs into my room. The door quietly closed as I flopped onto my bead. Then I remembered something. I had taken those papers in Matt's dresser. I grabbed them out of my pocket. Quickly, I read them. What I read startled me. The words popped of like sharp daggers. They were stories that he had written. All of them ended with death and sarrow. The one that bothered me the most was about a crazy guy that shot his family and then turned the gun on himself. It scared me. It was as if Matt was plotting something.

Then I heard a loud banging on my door. I froze. "Open up!" Matt yelled.

"What do you want?" I ansered.

"Just open the door, okay?" I just sat on my bead. Nothing could make me unlock that door. He started banging on it like he was trying to kick it down. "Open up this door, NOW!"

"No!" I screeched back. The kicking stopped.

"Listen, Alicia. I just need to talk to you."

"Yeah, right. Like I'm supposed to fall for that."

"Just open the **** door!"

"Never!"

I heard him stomping downstairs, the front door slamming, and him threatening from outside.

I hit my face into my pillow. If I had died right then I don't think I would have cared. I just wanted to be alone. Alone forever and ever.