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Ely sighed. Ever since he came in the house, ever since he put down his coat, ever since he sat down on the couch, only one thing was on his mind. Why would I be in Garland City if I live here? He asked his neighbor, a man named Boris, about himself, but apparently he was a solitary man, and rarely spoke to anyone. All Boris knew was that Ely went out one day and never came back, until now. He had explored the house, of course. There were two bedrooms, three bathrooms, a living room, a dining room, a kitchen and an office. He had an attic, but he decided to leave that for later.

In front of him sat a small box that he found in the office. Inside, stacks of paper and shredded envelopes. Ely opened one of them, and read it slowly, not wanting to miss a detail.

Dear Ely,

How are you? I hope you have settled down in this new city. In the house, I have hidden a few secrets for you, just for you, and I hope you manage to find them. If you do, write back ASAP.

Back to the point, as you know, I'm getting worse by day, and I hope your job wouldn't keep you from visiting. Rosa is great, but I prefer some family. Tell Rita that her sister said hi. So, enclosed is a gift from me to you, I won't tell you in this letter, you have to find out yourself. Remember what I told you, though, it will be useful whenever you have a problem. And I know that you aren't enjoying the change much but its for the best. It would be nice to get your phone number, but your contact list is full, and I wery much enjoy writing. Speaking of writing, I hope you would take up that offer you told me about.

I have to go now. Shawn's calling me and I don't want to be late. He seems excited about something. I hope you don't mind.

H.J. Shaw

He was intrigued by the letter. Many questions ran through his mind, giving him a headache. For example, who was Rosa? Or Rita? Shawn? And most importantly, who was J. V. Shaw? Ely knew this man is most likely a relative with his surname and the fact that he reffered to Ely as family, but this time not a shred of memory jumped forward. Not even- 'Ely, promise me something.' A man with black hair and a neatly trimmed beard said. 'Sure, what is it?' Ely replied. He was busy writing something, but he could still make time for the man. 'Promise you'll find-' . The memory jumped at Ely, making his confusion worse. From what his brain remembered, the man apparently was his father, J. V. Shaw. He was curious as to what he needed to find, but the memory had stopped there.

Ely walked upstairs, searching for the room in his memory. He pushed open a door, inside was the office. Walking around, he saw the layer of dust that implied sero reecent activity in the room. Swiping a finger over the table surface, he quickly wiped the dust off and sat down. In front of him sat a computer. Ely noticed it was a cheap one, but surprisingly good quality. Turning it on, he saw that it needed no password. He searched through the files, looking for anything edited three months ago. This month was October, so he was looking for July. He saw a few files, some were documments, some pictures, some charts and graphs.

He opened a document, it contained a story. He read it silently. Ely was very interested, the story plot was excellent, the introduction an abyss pulling the reader's mind into a different world. Sadly, it wasn't finished. Okay, first thing I do when I get my memory back is too finish this. He lokked through the other stories, all of fascinating and yet, unfinished. Ely was interrupted by sounds of cars and shouting outside. Looking out the window, what he saw was quite chaotic.

A car had swerved down the lane, crashing uncontrollably into the curb. Another car had sped down the lane, hitting the side of the first car in the process. The former now had two huge dents, whereas the latter had broken part of the engine. Ely shook his head at this scene, marvelling at the recklessness of humans today. Humans.

He walked down the stairs, wanting to find the source of the loud voices. Outside, four people, one of which is Boris, were arguing with each other. Walking over, he asked what was wrong. 'These clumsy people almost destroyed my yard! I want to sue them for it!' Boris exclaimed, face red.

'Emphasis on the almost! Its not my fault this idiot crashed first! Now my car is wrecked!'

'Oh shut up, you just got a dent! My car got two humongous dents and a wrecked engine! Do you know how much it will cost for the repairs?'

The arguments continued, with the people totally forgetting Ely was there. He groaned, wondering why he ever moved here. Ignoring the shouts and noises, he reentered the house, all hopes to end the argument gone. Frowning, he looked around the house for a place where he could not hear the sounds outside. Giving up, he decided to go for the attic. He hasn't explored it yet, and when he went up he saw a rather clean attic. It was empty, save for the corner filled with boxes and parcels. With the letters in his hand, he opened another one.

Dear Ely,

I write this to you in hopes that you have found what you were looking for. If you haven't, then I suggest you give up. It simply cannot be found, no matter what grandpa says. He is old, he is probably just making things up. Don't take this as a sign that I don't believe in you, its just that you cant spend all your life looking.

Also, grandpa says hi. He just read over my shoulder, insisting I don't cut you down like that. Anyways, I hope you can find a better life. Our ancestors were obsessed with it, I suggest you don't become like them. Get a life, a lover, settle down for a bit. I know you don't like letters much but grandpa is home and if he knew your number and email, he would send you stuff everyday. I heard he sent you a parcel. I think its an old locket from a ship captain? I'm not sure, he never showed me. I just saw it behind his back.

Thats all I have time for sadly. I would tell you everything going on but... Anyways come visit!

Shawn

That letter had given Ely a bit more answers. Ely now knew he was looking for something, he got a locket and..... well that's all. Ely was slightly disappointed but he was glad he got at least something. He wished there was an address but sadly it has faded and could barely be seen. Looking through some other papers, he found a folder labelled Pictures. He opened it, and stacks of old photographs came spilling out. Picking up one, he saw a rather recent picture, as it wasn't as dusty. No way. Is that me?