Revenge On Eleanor Calder (Coming back this Winter)

Chloe's P.O.V

I slowly come to a halt by the speaker looking over the usual weight-gaining foods. I grab my sunglasses putting them on to avoid the bright sunlight from straight ahead waiting for someone to speak. Caleb seems like a really nice guy, but I bet I will most likely never see him again. Things like this always happen to me. . .I should probably get a hold of myself before I become a whore now that would not be a good reputation.

"Welcome to McDonalds, how may I take your order?" A cheerful voice asks through the speaker.

"Can I get a caramel mocha, and a fish filet sandwich?" I request rolling my window further down.

"Sure will that complete your order?" The lady questions me.

"Yes." I breath out taking out ten dollars from my leather wallet purse.

"Okay six-fifty will be your total." She says.

I put my car in drive again driving up to the first window and paying my money and getting the change before heading to the second window and receiving my food. Taking a look in my bag I realize there is no straw to go with my mocha, really?

"Hey can I get a straw as well." I request the young boy who looks tired and weary.

"Oh yes, sorry." He apologizes in a soft tone grabbing a straw.

I take off the wrapper of the straw having about two cars wait behind me and put it in my drink. Just as I am about to drive off heading to Rochester where the funeral is to be held the worker speaks stopping me in my tracks.

"Oh ma'am sorry, but someone told me to give this to you." He informs me handing me a notebook with some silver leather covering it. What is this?

"Oh um, thank you very much." I thank him.

He nods and I resume driving making a turn and parking in the lot outside of the cheap restaurant. Looking at the time I can see that my time schedule is getting tighter by the second. I quickly open the notebook reading through the first page.

ABCDEFG I will be the one and only me. It says in cursive writing at the top. There is no other writing upon this page accept the countless amount of drawings and sketches all over the page filling it. There is some ink smeared probably due to the person's hand, but other than that it looks like a book of poetry and drawings. I really do not understand why someone would give this to me. I look around seeing a family make there way towards the entrance and a few teenagers smoking away their senses, but nothing out of order or superstition stands out to me. I look back down in my lap flipping the pages to a random page and grabbing my mocha to take a sip.

And so it begins. I want more, I have always wanted more. It is happening again, the voices are back. Why must everything be in favor of everyone, but mine? Why must hate bring itself upon my mind? Now I am here in the freedom looking around myself surrounded by no one and someone.His name? More. Why must I have a bad conscience of the mind? I want more. I breath more. I feel the need of one thing. I must please, more.The feeling of power is the way to get more. I must give in. Draw the knife. . .not the line. It will only help me as a person get what I want. Why am I like this? Why? But in the end, guilt is not a feeling. The feeling is of having more. -Rc

My eyes widen as I stare at the signature before I come to my senses realizing that this is the murder of Eleanor Calder's diary. My hands move quickly flipping through the pages in hopes of clues, names, or even just a signature. The beeping of a car causes me to jump looking out of my window and at the busy street ahead. I no longer have time to waste, I need to get to the funeral in time. I set the diary aside putting it in my car department and locking it with my key for safety. Whoever gave this to me must want to help...or is trying to mess with your mind my subconscious adds in.

I start my car again reversing and driving towards the road coming to a stop. All of a sudden a guy with blonde hair budges his way in front of me blocking me.

"Bastard." I curse under my breath before taking a sip of my mocha.

He looks about and out his window, which is down and I recognize him instantly. What is Niall doing here? I mean it may be weird, but what is he actually doing down here in Buffalo. He has no business here does he? Oh Chloe why are you so naive I question myself. Whatever Niall Horan is doing here in Buffalo is none of my business.

The line starts moving and I join in the back of Niall's truck two cars away headed to Rochester where Eleanor Calder's funeral is to be as well as her unborn child who the world will never meet.

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Susan's P.O.V

I close the door of my car carrying the heavy bouquet towards the little white garden house which sits right in front of the forest behind.The large glass windows cause the small room to almost appear as a dream with the sunlight touching it. I finally set the roses on the table outside of the one room house sighing in defeat.

Well here I am standing in a graveyard, minutes from attending my daughter's funeral. Never had I thought I would be in such a position, yet who is to blame? Not just the murderer but myself as well for I am Eleanor's mother and I am the one who should have protected till I died and parted away from the Earth physically. I sit on the stones that make a path to the doorway of the ceremony house with my back pressed against the white wooden wall beside the door itself.

Goosebumps instantly welcome themselves upon my skin as the image of Eleanor as a young one sets itself in my mind. She is gone, forever and never to return. I can not go back in time and beg her to stay with me. I can not go back and say "I love you," when she most needed. I can not go back to attend those ridiculous fields trips of her years in Elementary and skip work. I can not go back to shield her away from the monster and take the knife myself instead. I can not go back...only forwards. Without her.

"So this is how he wants me to live." I speak lowly to myself.

Referring he to God, maybe this is how it is to be. For Chase has left me even though he meant nothing compared to my only child. It is not like I can give my love to someone else, for I have no other children or family besides my mother. All I have is a mother, all Eleanor had was a mother would it have been the same if Eleanor and Louis had a baby of their own? Would Louis have left her and the tradition of loneliness and suffering go onto Eleanor.

"My baby's different." I whisper shaking my head.

Eleanor is different she would have been successful in life, get married, have a family, and live happily ever after. But someone messed up that story and I am more than furious. There goes my hard work and love and compassion just taken away from me. Although it is hard for me to find anger through all of this only, because I am more focused on how she is gone rather than the reason she is gone.

Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me thinking that this all is some sort of dream. That one day I will wake up to Eleanor's cries and walk into her room reciting the poem of the moon to her and cuddle her to bed. To wake up beside Brian's loud snores and the vanilla smelling bedroom. But no...this is reality. I must take it a-

The sound of a car drives me from my thoughts as I look up to see Louis Tomlinson's car speed past the numerous gravestones. He parks and walks slowly towards me having a long way ahead from the parking lot to where I am. I sigh heavily before noticing that I have been crying the entire time with my dress outline soaked. My hands move swiftly to press on the wet stops in hopes to make it better feeling the coldness of the fabric against my chest. I look back up squinting my eyes seeing Louis carry a gift bag, his eyes focused straight ahead directly through me.That is right his eyes are piercing through me as he comes closer, and closer. I can feel the his eyes yet I have no idea of what emotion hoping that it is not anger of course. I purse my lips looking down in my lap.

"I'm sorry." I apologize sighing before laying my forehead against my knees.

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Louis' P.O.V

The small bag sways in my hand as I continue walking towards the garden house. I avoid walking upon strangers' graves taking the option of the sidewalk hearing my footsteps. My eyes set on the small fragile body of my supposed to-be mother-in-law as she wanders into her thoughts. What is she thinking about? I wonder off hand. I continue walking in silence with my throat become a bit dry from my pace of footsteps looking at how the marble grave stones shine within the bright sunlight. The smell of rain drying under radiation is filled all around and the temperature is more than perfect. I slow down walking towards Mrs. Calder who looks lost.

"Hello Susan, you staying strong I suppose?" I greet the older woman.

Her grey eyes look up into mine and I can instantly tell that she has shed tears. I drop to my knees to hug her catching her off guard yet wrapping her bony arms around my back and rubbing soothingly.

"Oh Louis, Louis I-I-... Please do not forget about me especially after today even though I can caused such a burden." Susan cries in my shoulder.

I would never do such thing no matter what. Susan has been there for both Eleanor and I and I can not think of a way to comfort and thank her even more than I am trying.

"Susan Calder I will never forget you. Ever okay, trust me you are like my second mother. You understand?" I reassure her.

She pulls out from my arms to look at me looking...scared. I stare into her grey eyes wanting to tell her everything will be alright, but I must comfort myself for I have grief I am dealing with. I do not know what to say to her that will sound original.

"You are family Eleanor." I tell her truthfully.

"Eleanor?" Susan questions taking a breath.

Shit, did I just call Susan by her dead daughter's name? Great Louis, slow clap for the ass hole in the tux right here.

"I-I-" I begin to speak finding no words.

Her wide eyes sink down into her lap as well as her eyebrows going into a frown of their own.

"It is okay Louis, don't think nothing of it." She tells me, " in fact people say we look a lot alike in fact." Susan continues adding a chuckle as she covers for me.

"Mrs. Calder I am a so sorry I didn't mean t-"

"Is it okay Louis why apologize?" She cuts me off.

I am so stupid, I really I am. My heart begins to beat faster as I realize that I have only made things worse. I turn my head to get a glimpse at Mrs. Calder noticing that she is not crying thankfully, but just lost once again in her thoughts which I understand.

"I-I'm going to go take a walk." I inform her rising from my squatted position.

"Yeah okay." Susan says in a low tone.

I look around for a place to walk finding a garden along the side of the garden house.I set the bag on the iron table. My feet carry me almost involuntarily. I feel so numb at this point this whole thing feels surreal. My eyes skim over the pink roses and I lift my hand up touching the top of the beautiful flowers. I put my other hand in my pocket after moving my hair to the side and studying the pigment of the youthful flowers.

You know sometimes my mind tricks me thinking that Eleanor is still alive. That she is alive somewhere out there, still living. Maybe even ran off with another guy leaving me unwanted. But that is just my mind yet I can not tell if I am lying to myself or not. Lying or not she is still gone, not here.

Eleanor will not be returning, ever.

Notes

I am really sorry for the long wait, but we have made it to Chapter 90! Here comes the funeral, here comes the tears. Your comment + Other red coat's comment = An Update of a chapter.

-Sameria Xx