•|chapter five: the strange parcel [present day]

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Morning arrived in all its glory, bringing a serene joy to the town of Andrasville

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Morning arrived in all its glory, bringing a serene joy to the town of Andrasville.

Replacing the bitter darkness of the night, the dazzling sunlight brought a yellowish luminosity to the town, making its residents rise from their nocturnal rest. The leaves of the trees in Yvaine's chateâu too sparkled in the light and swayed their heads to and fro in a merry dance to tunes of the breeze that blew overhead.

The little pond underneath the trees glowed a brilliant shade of blue while numerous birds came in flocks and sang their melodies, some sitting on the soft mint green grass and some on the tops of the trees. Even the house itself looked bright and cheerful despite the slate shades of its walls. The sky was as blue as the pond beneath, marking the beginning of a happy, beautiful day.

The only odd thing about the scene was that, instead of being empty, a girl dressed in khaki pants and a matching shirt stood on the lawn, her face facing the door. A green, rectangular cardboard box with battered edges was clutched under her armpits. She swayed to and fro in her position, biting her lips in tension. She did not want to take another step towards the house.

But then again she knew she had to go there and put the package down there. She did not like the place, she never did. Despite the mellifluous birdsong emanating from everywhere, a terrible headache had taken hold over the girl in the khaki costume.

The veins in her head throbbed so badly that it was visible from above her skin. A noxious chill seeped in through the soles of her sneakers, freezing her toes even on that sultry July morning.

The girl let out a tired huff. She had been waiting on the lawn for a good thirty to fifty minutes, waiting for the new owner to come out so that she could give that box to her. However, there was no sign of her coming out. Maybe she was still sleeping, thought the girl, a sordid look emerging on her small, diamond-like face.

"Man, if only she came out," she mumbled to herself. "I don't wanna go to that cursed place."

This whole idea of bringing that box to this place had been her mother's idea. She thought that it was about time to transfer the ownership of that box and that belief had only strengthened with the news of the emergence of the glass bottle in the library.

But the girl could not understand why her mother was giving such vital information to someone who had no idea about anything at all. However, despite her reluctance, she knew she had to do this for both her family and her mother.

With a sigh, she began to make her way towards the house, her steps slow and dragging. She could not stand on the lawn for the entire day: she had a school to attend and loads of other work to complete. But the tiresome expression on her face merely increased as the throbbing in her forehead grew in intensity as she took each step.

Hurrying at the last few steps the girl was at last upon the doorstep of the chateâu. Putting the box down as fast as possible she was only about to leave when a part of her hand made contact with one of the walls. Instantly she withdrew it, clutching that arm as if it had been burnt. A pained grimace took hold of her face.

"Damn it! Never gonna come here again!" Exclaiming at the top of her lungs she turned around and ran away as fast as her feet could carry her.

***

Yvaine tucked back a stray lock of hair, examining her reflection in the mirror.

She had tied her hair into a bun, matching it with the purple chequered shirt and skirt she wore. Her eyes were shining, a freshness evident in her face, despite the events that had ensued the night before. Her hair shone like the field of wheat bathed in the early light of the sun.

Her handbag was laid open upon the bed, filled with her phone, a notebook, a few pens and a natural coloured lip balm. A stray piece of paper peeked out from within the pages of the notebook, in which was copied down the contents of the letter in the bottle and a few important points from the blog she had read last night. Yvaine was to use it as a guide in her search for Wilhelmina Andras.

Yvaine was determined to begin her search from that day itself. She was thankful that she worked in the library. It would be much easier to search the archives because of this added advantage. She was certain she would find something useful from there.

As she was about to pick up her handbag when suddenly her phone rang. With a small frown, she took it out from her bag. The illuminated screen displayed the name of Amberly Wood, replacing the frown on her forehead with a joyous smile.

"Good morning, Miss Wood!" Yvaine greeted, picking up the call.

"Morning to you too, Miss Again," answered a groggy voiced Amberly. "You are coming to the library, right?"

"Yes, sure," Yvaine replied, zipping her handbag subsequently. "Why did something happen at the library?"

"No, no," buzzed Amberly's voice. "So did you read the message in the bottle? You said you would tell me all about it,"

"Yes, I did," Yvaine said grinning. Slinging the handbag on her shoulder she came out of her room and started down the stairs to the living. "I will tell you all about it once I reach the library. But before that, I need you to do me a favour."

"What favour, Miss Agan?"

"I need you to find copies of the local newspapers dating back to January of 1882," Yvaine said, descending down from the last stair. "I need to read them as soon as possible."

"Oh gosh..." Amberly muttered, sighing. "I would have to go down to the basement to get them and that godforsaken is filled with spiders." She grumbled.

"It is linked to what is written in the message in the bottle," Yvaine answered. "It may reveal all its mysteries."

"Mysteries! What do you mean? Is it a map leading to a treasure?" A barrage of questions rained down on Yvaine. "I am going to go down there as soon as possible!"

"Tha-" before Yvaine could complete what she was saying, the line went off. Laughing at Amberly's reaction at the mention of the word mystery, she walked down to the door and opened it. The enthusiasm of Amberly was rejuvenating. Yvaine was about to step out into the lawn when she stopped dead in her tracks.

A box was laid on her doorstep.

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