Forever Changed

chapter 15



When I arrived home, I noticed my mother was not here yet. I decided that now my opportunity to find my father’s study. I needed answers and I needed them now. My head was spinning from everything going on. Who knew my whole life would change in one weekend?

I walked up the stairs and stopped outside my bedroom door. Where would my father hide the button that opened the door to his study? The only place I could think of, because there was not really anything here, was around my door frame. I started from the floor gently sliding my fingers along the frame working my way to the top. I went up the side and stopped halfway in the middle, when I felt a small lump on the top part of the frame.

I pressed it, quietly the wall moved out of place, opening a dark hole. Beyond the dark hole was a spiraling staircase. I walked up to the stairs, the wall automatically shutting behind me and the lights clicked on by themselves. How cool was that? I giggled.

I walked down three flights of stairs, until I reached the bottom, which opened up into a massive room.

Book shelves upon bookshelves, stood against the walls. A huge red fluffy couch along with a mahogany table was positioned in front of a massive fireplace, directly in the center of the room. The mantel, on the fireplace, had carvings of demonic looking hands all over it, with a small clock placed in the center.

Above the mantel was a mural, of what looked to me like the devil, which went from the mantel all the way to the ceiling. I was in paradise! Well, I would be if not for the mural.

I would love to stay in this room all day, for the rest of my life, it is that amazing. I walked around in circles, looking at all the books that were in this room. I was looking around the room, when I stopped.

One important thing, I was not seeing was my father’s desk. Why would he send me to his study looking for a book that I need, and it not be here? Only one thing I could think of. My father’s room is just like mine. There must be another room. But where?

I walked up to the right side of the room and looked at the book cases. I started gently pulling at some of the books. I had seen and read that sometimes, doors were hidden behind shelves, the books being the key that opened it.

So, I went through and gently pulled on the books, hoping, to find the right ones that opened the door. Every shelf, every book, it took me over an hour, to find the switch that opened the door. It was on the left side of the room. I had to really pull on a set of books, of paranormal fiction, to get it to open.

Finally, it opened up into a small but not too small room. There was a desk in the center of the room that looked to be extremely old; it was in need of a touch of something. Dust appeared to be an inch thick on everything. It was a very big difference walking from one gorgeous room, to a much cluttered dusty room.

There were two book shelves in this room, filled with old books that looked to have dated back to the 1800s. I was fascinated of course and looked at them; however I was afraid to touch them. Books like this need much love and gentle hands. With my luck one would just crumple in my hands and then I would feel like complete shit.

I walked over to the bookshelf on the right; my father’s demonic ring that I was wearing became very hot, and glowed a bright red color. It was extending from my neck, like it was reaching for its mate. It was more or less floating in midair; I just looked down at it in pure amazement. It felt weird, like someone was holding it up to admire it, while it was still around my neck. The hairs started tingling on the back of my neck as if I was not alone. It was much cooler in this room as well, but I was not frightened at all. I was excited!

I walked toward the book shelf, finding the book, that my father said was there and the ring demanding I grabbed the right book. I grabbed it and noticed there was an emblem on the side that matched the ring. My father was right the book was locked and could not be opened without the ring. I took my necklace off from around my neck and placed the ring into the emblem.



I watched in fascination as the ring completely drew up into the emblem becoming a part of the book. The side of it clicked opened releasing its lock. As I laid the book, on the old desk it flipped open all by itself. Wind and howls blew into my face, frankly scaring the hell out of me. I jumped back and watched as smoke came spiraling out of the book.





After a few seconds the wind and howls stopped, but the smoke continued to roll out. I slowly walked up to the book and peeked at it. Other than the smoke, it looked like an ordinary book. Upon getting closer, the book glowed a bright red just as the ring had done. I sat down in the old chair so that I could get closer and take a look.

I sat there for at least three hours reading through the book, which not only glowed, but was warm, almost hot to the touch.

The book only revealed to me the history that my father always talked about; the destiny that had taken my father and my grandfather’s life. The wives all ended up dying in jail or still in jail to this day because that was their destiny. It told about the mansion that we lived in and why each one of my grandfather’s built onto it.

It told about how the house had first started out as a shack and how it had been built onto and why.

The book was a journal of sort telling each perspective, through the grandfathers’ eyes that I had never met and would never meet. They all told the same story and they all embraced their destiny.

I slammed the book shut, I was highly pissed. My father told me, I would learn who I am and the book would tell me what I was. It didn’t tell me anything, except what my father already told me. What a waste of my time. “Thanks a lot” I said to no one in particular.

I was about to take the ring out of the book and replace it back on the shelf, when something caught my eye. A piece of paper was sticking out of the end of the book. The paper was not like the rest of the book, so I knew it didn’t belong there.

I opened up the book once more and headed to the back. It had been folded and placed quickly inside. I gently unfolded it. I noticed that it was in my father’s handwriting. You could see it was not his normal handwriting. He was in a hurry and it was written out sloppy.

I wondered why he would just write his perspective on regular paper and throw it in there. I was confused and angry. What was this going to tell me? My father said that the book would tell me who I was, but it didn’t.

I was just going to discard the letter and run out of there when I read the first sentence of it….



Mitch Marcus

I have managed to change destiny, but I am nervous about what will happen and how I will be punished…..



I couldn’t help it; I had to read what he wrote.