Once Upon A Miracle

Chapter 13: Until next time

"I'm so proud of you that it makes me proud of me. I hope you know that."

~ John Green (Will Grayson, Will Grayson)

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"Well...I guess, you were right, after all," Warren muttered grudgingly.

If Blue wasn't so tongue-tied and scared about what she might find beyond these closed doors, she would've said gladly said, "I told you!"

But as it happened, she could barely reach up to the door knob without her hand shaking like a leaf in a storm. Heartbeat hammering, Blue wondered if this was some sort of pivotal moment in her life. All these years spent thinking that her father died a watery death. But, now, there was a chance that all of it had been one big lie. But, even if he didn't die, where would he be now? Or maybe Blue was assuming too much, hoping too much. If he had been alive all this time, wouldn't he have tried to, at least, contact them?

Warren groaned beside her. "Dear God, you're slower than a turtle," he said and, then, being completely insensitive to her inner crisis, reached past her and turned the knob himself. Goosebumps appeared in Blue's arm as the door slowly swung open, rasping dramatically.

Blue wasn't sure what she was expecting but she was both relieved and disappointed to find a completely normal room, albeit covered in three years worth of dust and cobwebs. The room was narrow and sparsely furnished with just a small bed, an alcove sort of thing set in the wall to store belongings and a tiny desk.

Blue walked inside, trying not to collapse with her legs behaving like jelly. The mattress in the bed was eaten away by moths and the shelf and desk were completely empty.

Warren hummed in disappointment. "There's nothing here, Blue," he said and, for the first time, his voice wasn't snarky or smug, just plain sympathetic. Pitiful, even. Blue couldn't decide which one she hated more.

Abruptly, the corner of her eyes caught something. The desk, crammed into the corner, had one tiny drawer, which remained partially open. Inside it, Blue could see something – something like paper.

Stumbling forward, she pulled open the drawer, the handle almost tumbling open with the force. There it was – a book. No, not a book. A diary.

Cold anticipation seeped into her skin as she gingerly held up the diary, afraid it would crumple in her grasp. But it didn't. Warren looked over her shoulder as she leafed through the thin, yellow pages – brittle with age – and all of them filled with words. Tears sprang in her eyes when the pages parted to show a photo.

There was her Ma, standing beside a tall, roughly familiar man. They were both young and smiling wide, bright smiles towards the camera, as they proudly held a small bundle of blankets with an even smaller pink face of a baby peeking out of it. Rita, Markus and Blue. Their family as a whole.

Warren cleared his throat beside her. "Uhm...I'll be around, checking out the rest of this section. You can...have a moment," he said and promptly ran out of the room, afraid he'd have to end up consoling a kid with daddy issues. 

Zombies, he could handle. Crying girls, no, thank you very much.

Blue, on the other hand, found herself reading through Markus's journal, her eyes hungry as she absorbed the personal words of a man who was supposed to be her father. What she was surprised to find was that all the entries were written like letters and they were all addressed to...her.

Taking a deep, steeling breath, she flipped the book to a random page. It read:

Dear Blue,
How are you, love? Lord, I ask as if I expect an answer. It's not like you're ever going to read these letters. Besides, you can barely talk, much less read. But, I know, you're a fast learner. Rita tells me you finally learned a few words. 'Ma' is one of them. I wonder when you'll learn to say 'Dad.' Or 'Papa', perhaps.

I wish I could be there with you. I've been talking with my captain. I'm hoping to be granted a few days leave soon – within a few months, actually. Maybe I'll make it home in time to teach you to say 'Dad.' Don't tell your mother, though. I'm still negotiating and can't make promises. I don't want her to get her hopes up.

Until next time,
Your Dad

Blinking to clear her blurry vision, she skimmed through a few more pages. It was a thick book, the letters starting from nearly the time she was born. The one she just read was a particularly old one – when Blue was still a mere infant.

Blue sniffed, rubbing off a few tears that had escaped her eyes and was streaming down her cheeks. She realised that, a few days ago, she wouldn't have even given a second thought about her Papa. Sure, some days, when she felt particularly alone or her Ma told her some stories, she wished for him. But in other days, she kept herself occupied with Timmy and homework.

But it wasn't that she didn't care about him. She was just so used to him being gone that she had stopped wishing for his return. But, now, reading these...letters...made her desperately yearn for him.

Blue snapped out of her thoughts when she realised that she had reached the last of his entries, the rest of the subsequent pages blank. Frowning, her eyes caught sight of the date. September 10th, 2017. Three years ago. The very date when her father's ship supposedly drowned.

But it clearly didn't. Yet, if his entries stopped that day, then something must have happened. Something, Blue presumed, not very good.

Dear Blue,
It's late and I'm unable to fall asleep. It's been months since insomnia has taken clutch of me. Outside, it's raining 'cats and dogs,' as my British friend, Jamie, likes to say. A storm is churning and it's only getting worse. I don't fear that too much. I've faced many of those and they barely make a dent in this massive ship.

What I do fear is that I might have developed a drinking problem. Jamie himself is probably drowning in ale. 

What am I doing? I shouldn't write that to a kid.

But, I think, I'm a little drunk now too. I know, I know, I shouldn't. Right now, I'm imagining you as a grown woman with a stern face looking down at my old form, scolding me for drinking. But drinking helps to pass the long nights.

I miss your mother. Tell her I said that.

Blue, there's something I need to tell you. I think...I think I'm growing a little mad. I keep having these crazy nightmares whenever I do manage to catch a wink. Even as I walk around the halls of this ship, which has nearly become my home, my stomach twists up in anticipation. I keep looking over my shoulder as if I'm expecting somebody to attack me from behind. I look at my comrades and they don't seem like friends anymore.

Something doesn't feel right, Blue. I'm not a prideful man, so I'll say it: I'm afraid. The nights seem longer, the shadows more dangerous.

Something's going to happen. Something bad.

Until next time,
Your Dad

This chapter is dedicated to @picklejuice100 for being an awesome friend and for supporting me all the way through :)

Also, I've plugged in a song above the chapter. 'Remember Me' (from the movie Coco) touched my heart the moment I heard it. After playing it back over and over again, I still feel the sting of tears each time I hear it. And it goes so absolutely well with this chapter! It's almost disconcerting. Hehe, enjoy UwU

And, since, I'm here, might as well ask ya'll to drop a comment and press that star button! I would greatly appreciate it. Thanks XD

And what do you think happened to Markus, Blue's father? Lemme know!