Syllia's alive?

I sat at the kitchen table and waited. It was cloudy and I wondered if it would rain before my mom answered me. What was she waiting for, I thought. I watched her breathe in and out, her breath catching at the top. The smile had vanished from her face. She was worried. I knew it.

"What do you mean?" She finally spoke.

My dad came out of the living room, his newspaper crumpled under his arm. "What makes you bring that girl up"

"Syllia, I think I saw her." I pulled at the roots of my hair. I just couldn't tell them what had happened.

He turned gruff. "The Farrel girl has been dead for eight years, Leslie. It's just cruel for you to bring this up."

"Okaaayyyy." I drew out my words. I wasn't willing to let this go. "Are you sure she died?"

"Leslie!" My father's face went red. "That's enough!"

The conversation ended at that. My dad walked away. My mom kept up her weird breathing. I knew I'd just made a bad choice.

I couldn't think of anything to do now, I was standing in front of my mom, and I was looking at the floor. I slowly lifted my head to look at her. She was still looking overwhelmed and she was not looking at me.

I walked to my room slowly and closed my door. I sank to the floor, tiredness took over. I laid there thinking about Maylin. All of a sudden, my mind shot back to eight years earlier.

There I was, in the same place, lying down on the ground after dad got mad at me. I was crying and Maylin sat next to me. She nuzzled up with her beak, trying to calm me down. The tears started to dry, and I heard my stomach grumble.

In the memory, I stood up and opened my door to go out. My eyes bulged. I caught sight of my mom writing something in a journal. She seemed to realize I was close and quickly stood up, moving to a part of the office away where I could not see her.

"The journals!" My eyes snapped open, I hadn't even realized I was asleep. My mom's journals had to still be in the office. She wrote everything in them. She had to have written about what happened to Syllia. This time, I could actually find some real information. Except, I had no idea where to look for them in the office.There had to be hundreds of books in there. I had to have some time to find them.

I waited until it was late, not even coming down for dinner. Once I heard the click of my parent's door, I scooted out into the hallway and down toward the office. Dad was the one I had to worry about. He was a light sleeper. Mom took pills that knocked her out all night.

I scanned the bookcases bulging with magazines, hardcover novels, and my dad's law books. "This is going to take forever."

It didn't matter, though. I grabbed a flashlight from the desk drawer and got started.

Nearly four hours later, I found a stack of journals labeled 2022. Jackpot. I figured I'd have the information in no time. As I pored through the writings, my eyes grew heavier and heavier. The next thing I knew, the room was lit up. I shrieked and grabbed the stack of journals. It was morning.