C H A P T E R   E I G H T E E N
About   Laurie...

Just like before, Arry and Delia sat next to each other surveying the activities that were happening in front of them. Arry found that something was bothering Delia heavily. There wasn't that brightness in her eyes or liveliness. She wasn't the same.

     Arry thought that if he gave her time, she would naturally go back to normal, sadly there wouldn't be time for that.

     "Delia, you've been like this for the past few days since you've been home. You can't leave me here hanging without answers." Arry sighed, turning his head to face his friend.

     "I'm sorry, alright, Arry? I just can't shake this bad feeling in my gut." Delia looked to the ground, not tempted to turn her gaze to Arry.

     "Tell me, maybe I'll be able to help." He seemed so sure, Delia thought, frowning sorrowfully.

     "No, it's fine, Arry. I don't want to bother you with my thoughts." Delia mumbled, finally turning and acknowledging Arry's existence next to her.

     "It's noon, you should get going."

     "Actually... I was thinking of bringing you over to my home." Arry smirked, it was his plan of getting Delia back and happy.

     "Really? Never thought I'd see the light of day." Delia smiled evidently. Tapping her leg with excitement and anxiousness. There was that swallowing feeling again. She hadn't felt it in nearly two weeks, it seemed to Delia that it would never stop terrorizing her.

     "Well, what are you waiting for?" Delia questioned, standing up and pulling at Arry's arm.

     "Alright, alright! No need to be impatient now." Arry chuckled, then turning to the boys and informing them it's time to go home.

     The group of friends frowned but didn't object. In a huddle, they walked with one another, side by side, heading home. Then they neared a house which belonged to Yves.

     "Mother! Father!" Yves screeched, running towards his parents who held their arms out wide for Yves to hug them.

     "Bye, William, Lewis, Charles and Earnest! Goodbye, Arry and Ms. Delia!" Yves waves cheerfully before his parents took him into his house and shut the door. It continued on like this for the four other boys until finally, Delia and Arry were left alone.

     "Don't get too tired, Delia. My house isn't that far away from Charles'." Arry grinned, catching onto Delia's gaining slowness in movement.

     "You don't know what you're talking about, Arry Whitby," Delia replied, staring at him out of the corner of her eye.

     "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Miss Acker."

     "Don't give me sass, young man." Delia joked, speaking in a stern and husky low voice.

     "I didn't know your voice could sound like that." Arry cackled, continuing to walk to somewhere unfamiliar to Delia.

     "And... here we are." Delia had her head turn to Arry when they stopped. He took his hand and placed it on Delia's cheek, turning her head gingerly to see a house.

     It was smaller than hers with all the walls of the house made out of bricks. The door seemed as though it was too tiny for any tall human being. And the front lawn and garden were overgrown and very green. It seemed like the house was one with the wild nature.

     "Wow..." Delia gasped quietly to herself.

     "Yeah, I know. It's magnificent, isn't it?" Arry spoke with sarcasm while walking towards the front door which was in fact too short for him to walk through so he had to bend over, under and into the home. Delia followed without hesitation in her mind.

     The inside of the home was cluttered and cramped. There were random items strewn around the place. Stacks of old and tattered clothes and pots and pans daring to fall at any moment. The only furniture items Delia could make out was a Couch in the corner in front of a window with the curtains closed.

     "Watch your step, you may trip on something," Arry remarked, taking Delia's hands and guiding her across the room and into another one.

     It was smaller, cleaner, fewer things thrown around the place. It seemed hearty and homey. There was a white bed in the corner of it, a few books were laying there, either opened or closed. Possibly all of them were in pristine condition, from what Delia could perceive.

     "'The Wild Irish Girl'?" Delia picked up a book from the bed as she walked around the room. It was opened to page 237.

     "I didn't know you were a romance kind of man." Delia giggles, ruffling Arry's hair with her hand. He was quiet for a moment, thinking of the next thing he would say.

     Arry could feel his cheeks burn, he was flustered. His heart fluttered and his stomach was full of butterflies, what was this aching feeling?

     "Lost for words, I see? Don't worry, Arry, your secret is safe with me." Delia smirked devilishly and placed the book back down onto the bed, still on the same page.

     "You got all of the romance novels here too, 'Pride and Prejudice', 'Romeo and Juliet', you even have 'Jane Eyers'." She continued, recalling the times she had read 'Jane Eyers' for many hours until she finished the book.

     "How did you get these...?" Delia wondered, mumbling the question with a confused look on her face.

     "I... I use the money I save up for them. I usually read a book multiple times before the next time I can pay for another book." Arry muttered, shyly he grinned, looking away from Delia.

     "You better finish, 'The Wild Irish Girl' by the next time you visit me," Delia smirked, shaking her head.

     The more you know, Delia thought to herself.

     "We can bet on that," Arry remarked.

Delia walked out of the room, then out of the house into the fresh air of the evening. She took a deep breath in, releasing it slowly out of her mouth.

"Perhaps it would be better to stay outside of my home than inside," Arry suggested, he sat down on the grassy ground.

He looked like a farmer to Delia, just place a weed in his mouth and there he was, he could be fertilizing soil.

"Are you not going to sit down, Miss Acker?" Arry questioned, perking an eyebrow at Delia who was standing still.

"I don't want to get my dress dirty," Delia responded, crossing her arms and looking confidently out into the vast land.

"And I thought you weren't materialistic! Go on, sit down." Arry grasped Delia's right hand, clutching it tightly and pulling the girl down to the ground.

"Arry Whitby!" Delia yelled, hitting him on the back with her arm.

"Ouch! Stop it!" Arry complained.

"You're a madwoman!" Arry shouted, which made Delia reply to his statement with a fake gasp. Acting as though she was offended, Delia crossed her arms and turned her head to face away from Arry.

"Oh, don't be so unsettling, dear Delia. I'll make it up to you, I swear!" Arry joked, grabbing one of Delia's hands again and begging her to forgive him.

"Read me a page of 'The Wild Irish Girl' then. Maybe your reading voice will calm me down."

"If you say so, darling."

Darling, Delia thought. Smiling to herself as Arry went inside to grab his copy of 'The Wild Irish Girl'.

Most of the rest of the day, Delia spent with Arry. She rested her head on Arry's thigh, listening to him as he read the first dozen pages of the book.

He read with enthusiasm, Arry even made different voices for each character. He said it was how he imaged they had sounded.

Delia had laid there, feeling her eyes feel heavy the more that she listened to Arry read. Every time she blinked her eyes, it was as though the sunset lower and lower until the sky turned dull and dark.

"Delia, you should be heading home. It's dark out." Arry shook her shoulder intensely. Her eyes fluttered open when she looked up, she saw Arry looking over her, the sky was a deep rich blue with flecks of white shimmering sparks.

"Arry... how long have you been reading?"

"We're on page 54." Delia jumped up, standing on shaky feet.

"I must go, Arry. I'll see you tomorrow..." Delia waved lazily, her eyelids daring to cover her eyes and blind her.

It was as though Delia were intoxicated, the next day, she woke up, with barely a recollection of how she had made it home.

* * * * *

There she was again, Delia was inside her house, about to head out the front door and talk to Arry for a few hours. It had been nearly two weeks since Delia fell asleep during Arry's book club reading of 'The Wild Irish Girl'.

Still to that day, Delia couldn't remember how exactly she got home. It was likely that she had just walked like a zombie back home and fell into her bed, it could also be possible that Arry had helped her back. Either way, the mystery did kill her.

Her mother didn't bother to ask why she was out late because she had fallen asleep early before Delia made it home.

That day, two weeks prior to that strange incident, Delia was trying to finish eating her breakfast as fast as plausible. She spread her butter over her piece of bread and munched on it, eating through the pain as the sharp edges of the bread scraped the roof of Delia's mouth.

Charlotte and Harriet gave their big sister a judgemental look which caused Delia to choke on her food from laughter.

"Quit—looking at me like that!" Delia shouted at her sisters who just shrugged their shoulders and went back to looking at their own plates.

"Slow down, Delia. It's not as though your food will disappear into thin air." Harriet sighed, sounding like the older sister advising the younger one.

"I'm in a hurry, Harriet. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." Delia swallowed the last piece of bread, taking a sip of water out of a glass cup to help with her dehydration.

Delia held onto the kitchen counter for support as she put her dirtied shoes on. They were slipper-like, coloured a dark maroon colour.

Finally turning the doorknob, Delia fell out of her house, stumbling out of the door. She blanked out for a second before Delia's sense of sound came back.

"Delia, another letter." Mother mumbled, handing Delia the opened note. Her mother's eyes skimmed the paper before she had given it to her daughter.

After the amount of number filled letters Delia had received, she could practically read in numbers. Delia was no prodigy but her mind had quickly adapted to the coded letters.

There was that bad feeling again. It was in her gut like two people were pulling at her and one side was winning. Delia hadn't felt this way in a long while, she was happy it was gone and now it's back again, warning her, warning her to not read the paper.

Slowly, the numbers turned to letters in Delia's mind and she didn't know if this was some sick joke or not. The letter was signed at the bottom by Josephine March.

In the letter, it was written to Delia with a concerned tone of voice by Jo. It was about Laurie, it talked about something he did.

On instinct, Delia ripped the paper into fractions and threw it on the ground, stomping on it until the dirt was smeared over the numbers that made-up words and no one could read the truth.

A U T H O R ' S   N O T E

Yea Uhm. I feel that this chapter is rushed ahhhhhh! IT SUCKSSS. I'm sorry! I swear things will look
up... well, as much as they can. :)

BY THE WAY, THAT MAD WOMAN LINE WASNT INTENTIONALLY A REFERENCE TO MAD WOMAN BY MY QUEEN TAYLOR. I wrote
this chapter a while ago and just edited
it at 9 on Thursday, so yeah.

Thank you guys so much!
Love you all!! <3