Chapter 8: Beyond That Door- The Attic.
I unlocked the door only to be met by an intense light, I crept on-slowly in anticipation. There he was. Sitting. However, that same silhouette lingered next to him- taunting me for the third time. I shifted my concentration towards my father. His face- just as I had remembered; A shabby beard, dark brown eyes, hair-although long they were neatly cut, his face pale and sickly. I walked towards him, "Father!" I cried out. "Come my son." He replied. The sharp intense light still hurting my eyes- I screamed.
I woke up.
Confused I took my surroundings in, I was still sitting on the table accompanied by the typewriter. My hands sticky, resembling my face.
'I really need a bath right now.' I thought to myself.
The warm bath couldn't distract me from my thoughts, my tears joined the water as it pored down. I wouldn't be able to see her again, her usual beaming face would never smile at me.
I stepped out of the warm bath, which felt cold- everything did.
"Hi may I speak to Ronald?" I asked the receptionist, who had answered the phone.
"Yes, May I have your name?"
"Umm... it's Rumi... Rumi Diego, Samantha Diego's son."
"Ok, please hold- I've been given strict orders from Mr. Ronald to inform him immediately when your call arrives." The receptionist answered with joy in her voice.
"Ah Rumi... finally!" Ronald answered, his voice stern. "You remember me, right?! I'm really sorry." He paused, "Your mother was a dearest friend to me... my condolences." He finished.
"Hi... Mr. Ronald."
"Only Ronald... remember."
"Yes... Ronald, my mother left me a letter before she..." My voice cracked.
"I know...son." His voice softer than before. "Wait for me, and don't wander off till I come... I know you are really excited about the attic."
"How did yo-"
"Rumi... I will tell you everything, for the time being... stay put!" He finished.
How did he know? What did He know that I didn't? Hundreds of questions circled my mind, thousands of possibilities formed in my head. What was his relation to my mom? Was he...? No that can't be, could it though?
I snapped myself out of the endless misery my thoughts presented me with. Suddenly I heard the doorbell. 'This is it!'
"Hi man." Seb said with a smile, which I knew had pity engraved within.
"Oh... hi."
"Yo bruh... why the long face? You disappointed?" Paul, who was accompanied by Josh said.
"Dude..." Josh jabbed his elbow into Paul's arm, and shot him a look- ordering him to shut up.
"No... I was just waiting for someone else." I answered to Seb's question.
"Care to explain?"
"Yes, come on in!" I answered, finally mustering some joy.
I narrated everything that had happened in the three days, after leaving Iceland; My mother's death, her final letter, the attic, and most importantly- my conversation with Ronald. I didn't care to add the dream, or nightmare- whatever it was.
"Wait that same Ronald... who often visited your mother?" Seb asked.
"Yes, but what is the connection between him and mom?"
As if answering to my question, the doorbell rang for the second time. This time I knew, I knew it was him- it had to be.
"Hey kiddo." He spoke. 'kiddo' that word reminded me of her- everything did these past three days.
"Hi Ronald... please come in."
"Wow... I didn't expect an audience."
"Neither did I... Anyways do you need something? Tea? Coffee? A drink perhaps?"
"No son... I really don't have time." He said with haste in his voice. "If all of you are here... might as well listen carefully." He finished looking at the three, who had no idea how to react. Instead, they were busy looking at his grey hair, but astonishingly dashing looks.
"As you know... both your mother and father were writers. What you don't know is that Diego was my best friend- one of my childhood friend actually. Where as your mother- Samantha... She was my second childhood friend. The three of us were inseparable."
"You were childhood friends?!"
"Yes... Rumi, but why are you so shocked?"
"And here I was thinking of all these different, ugly scenarios. Couldn't you just... say it on the phone, beforehand?"
"You are your father's son alright!" He laughed.
"Ok... so you were just a friend. This explains a lot!"
His grin faded, his face stern. "Yes, I was... just a friend."
"What about the attic?" I asked, clearly showing my enthusiasm.
"Yes, give me the key." He said, prolonging his hand. "Let's go!"
We climbed the stairs, which led towards the attic. With each step forward, I got closer to my parents. Closer to the truth. Why did they keep the attic a secret from me?
"Kiddo, before going in... maybe you should know why they kept it a secret from you." He proposed, as if reading my mind. {It's confirmed. He's a psychic!}
"Why... why did they?" My voice trembled, barely finishing the question. I wanted to know, but I just couldn't bring myself to accept anything.
"Because son... you were their only child. He wanted to keep you safe... away from all the miseries he faced."
His answer didn't help, it only worsened my suspicions.
"Do the honors... Rumi." He gave me the key.
As I looked towards the locked door, I could feel my parents outline- smiling. My fathers arm tightly wrapped around my mother's thin waist. My tears broke free from the embrace of my eyes. I fitted the key in the keyhole, with a loud unlocking sound {it may have been my imagination, but the door had unlocked itself with a loud creak.}
It was nothing like I had imagined- it was nothing unusual.
"Disappointed?" Ronald asked me, reading my face.
"I thought it would be some sort of a treasure room, filled with antiques. I didn't expect a..." I looked around, "study room."
I took my surroundings in, surprisingly it was well kept. In fact, it looked like someone had recently cleaned the room. No... it looked like someone was using this study for a long time.
Suspicions growing in my confused mind, I focused my sight towards a glass book case. I had seen it somewhere. I didn't know where, and then I saw a logo. 'Obviously! How could I not guess!' It was an Ikea BILLY/OXBERG white bookcase accompanied by a white table, perfectly complementing the bookcase.
"Your father loved his Ikea furniture." Ronald added.
"Yes, we had donated one of these to a library... some years back."
But this one was different- unique somehow. It had books about poets, authors. Everything a writer needed was safely shelved in this bookcase. I looked towards Ronald.
"Quite a collection, right?" He nodded.
I was wishing for antiques, but this- this was something much better. A fantasy for any novelist, all the research one could possibly do. But, one question still lingered.
"Why did they keep all this from me?" I asked Ronald.
"They didn't want you to follow their footsteps."
"But... why?"
"A lot had happened after your father's first book." He started with a tone I've never heard from him before- soft. "He got recognition, awards, he... became famous." He paused. "With all the fame and glory, he also- without knowing- made enemies."
"Enemies?" Seb asked.
"Yes, enemies." He answered. "Because of that I became his personal attorney- I promised your mother... that I would keep him safe." His voice cracked as he mentioned my mother.
"So, the plane crash..." I asked.
"There was no crash." Roald explained, "but it's no use dwelling in the past Kidd-"
"No! I want to know!" I interrupted him- my tone something I never knew I could've achieved- Anger.
"Rumi... it will not do you any better, knowing the truth."
"I want to know." I pleaded in a soft, hushed tone.
"Your father... Diego was shot, before he could board the plane."
"No. that can't be," I said, confused by his words. Deep down I already knew that something tragic had happened, but shot? "The plane had crashed it couldn't be. Why would they? How could they?" My heart pounded as I sat on the chair, tears streaming down my face.
Ronald sat next to me his hand on my shoulder, he slowly pulled out his wallet and handed me a brown, old, tattered newspaper.
Renowned Author shot Dead!
An Article by Richard Griezmann.
Armin.S.Moone [Pen name] was found dead in an alleyway in New York on Saturday morning, it was reported that he was on his way to the airport...
I couldn't gather the courage to read the rest of the article. I folded the paper and gave it back to its owner.
"Keep it... I have memorized each and every letter on that article." Ronald said. Tears forming in his eyes.
"You loved her, didn't you?" I paused, "my mother... you loved her right?!"
"Ru- Yes." Although he was surprised by the question, he answered in a firm voice.
"So why- how could you? Why did you let him die!" I shouted, I rested my head on his chest- frustrated by all the lies and secrets.
"I'm sorry... Rumi." Tears rolling down his eyes. "I tried... it just wasn't enough!" He came closer and to my surprise, hugged me.
It was warm- the first thing after mom's death that had felt warm. He was the closest thing to a family left in this world.
"Now Rumi... I have a message from your father."
"That can't be... I wasn't there when he died!"
"Rumi... you were five years old when he died."
The attic blurred; my senses betrayed me. The last thing I remember before being unconscious, was the faces looking towards me with utter shock. 'I was five... when he died?'
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Hector_Moone
Hector_Moone Hola! awesome readers, thank you for all the love! It's crazy! If someone would've said a week ago that i will be nearing 600 reads this week. I would have laughed like hell! Lmao.
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P.S. This is the chapter where the actual story begins... Hope y'all like it. if you do- please vote, comment, share, or even PM me if something is not up to standards.
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