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stated out the little window of her small room, she watched the night bask in its silence. So quiet, it felt peaceful yet dull.

Looking down, she stroked the leather of the bound journal that sat on her lap.

These days, that journal was the only thing keeping her going.

It was her grandmother's journal.

The first time Evelyn was punished, she was forbidden from leaving the house all weekend.

She was forbidden from even leaving her room.

But she couldn't stay cooped up in there all day, she was terrified of losing her mind. So she did what she had to do.

She managed to sneak out of the room.

And she found a modest sized library in the mansion. Upon entrance, she coughed from the excess of dust surrounding the place.

The place was beautiful, filled with book after book.

Roaming around, Evelyn found a shelf filled with journals which held her grandmother's words.

Her grandmother's tragic life.

It held a special place in Evelyn's heart. It made her feel like she was close to someone. Close to some kind of family, no matter that her grandmother was dead.

Opening the 7th journal in the 'series', she continued reading.

5th July 1975,

He struck me once again.

I do not understand. If he loves me...why does he cause me pain?

I thought we were past that.

The lies.

For so long, he cheated and laughed in my face as tears fell down my cheeks.

And finally, he let me in. He stopped with that other girl. He let me love him and I was finally worthy of his love.

The happiness I felt was beyond anything ever before. But it was short-lived.

I still cried, even though he started holding me when we slept. He no longer stayed in another room or on the opposite side of the bed. He wrapped his arm around me, brought me closer, snuggled his head in the crook of my neck. He kissed my jawline, whispered "sweet dreams" and fell into a deep slumber.

I dreamt of that very scene every night, countless times.

Why was I still weeping?

And now, he has hurt me. The emotional scar left on my heart will never completely heal, that I am sure of. But I thought that maybe his love for me would hide that scar, bury it deep enough to never bother me, to never nag me.

His hands left their imprint on my soft skin, they raised the skin they slapped. They stung it so effortlessly revealing how weak of a wife he had.

No wonder he reverted back to another woman's bed.

My love for him was not enough. My sobs were not enough. I was not enough.

I am not enough.

And how will I tell him? How will I tell him that I cannot bear his children?

Infertile.

That's what the doctor told me the day I truly felt I was pregnant.

I cannot bring him the very family he longs for.

What kind of wife would he make of me?

Useless, that's the word he will use.

- Zaira Jones

Wiping a tear, Evelyn sniffled.

Although Zaira was not her true grandmother, Evelyn could care less.

Her true grandmother was a certified witch, angry that Evelyn was the mess of a mistake that came out of a drunken affair.

Evelyn never understood why Yasmin Moreau hated her so much. With such a burning passion.

When Evelyn came across Zaira's journals, she realized.

She realized who was the woman ripping Zaira's love straight from her hands. She realized why cheating was such a big deal in this particular family.

It was like a hand-me-down tradition.

Except no one wanted it.

Glancing up at the clock that read 2:07 am, Evelyn closed the journal.

It was far too late to sadden herself further.

Curling up in her thin blanket, she rested her head against the window. The cushion underneath her was comfy enough to let her close her eyes.

And slowly fall into the darkness.

felt that school was a bore. It was a pesky fly that never left you alone.

A true nuisance.

Entering, he stalked down the halls in ignorance of all the stares he received. As people parted, there was no need to slow down for cautiousness.

Until now.

As someone ducked out of his way, a girl appeared behind the person and soon enough, was on the floor.

He had bumped into her rather crudely.

The chatter died down as onlookers watched over the scene.

Expecting some drama, Maddox scoffed. Crouching down, he helped the girl collect her things.

"Thanks," she whispered.

As if someone had struck him by lightening, he straightened up in paralysis.

"Evelyn?" he questioned.

Looking up, her eyes widened in surprise before a smile broke out on her face. "Maddox! Hi, how are you?"

A little taken aback by her sudden chirpiness, he awkwardly replied. "Um, I'm fine."

Nodding her head, she quickly got up dusting her skirt. As she brushed her hair back, he took note of the faint bruise coloring her jawline.

"What's that?"

Wondering what he was pointing at, she looked down at her shirt. "My shirt..." she said trailing off.

Shaking his head, he lifted her chin up and gently touched her jaw. Slapping his hand away, she attempted to cover the left side of her face with her hair.

"It's nothing," she murmured in embarrassment.

"Hiding something I've already seen is pretty stupid," he pointed out rolling his eyes.

"Pretend you never saw it."

"Now you're asking for the impossible," he chuckled darkly. His words were void of humor, seriousness was oozing out of his tone.

Shrugging, she started walking away.

Delicately taking hold of her wrist, he turned around. "So you won't tell me," he quietly said with an eyebrow raised.

"Ask again later," she replied, a soft smile decorating her features.

As she walked off, he was left with a look of clear shock on his face.

As the bell rung, signaling a warning to get to first period, he snapped out of his state of bewilderment before making his way to his class, but as the day went on he felt restless.

He knew what had happened to Evelyn. It wasn't very hard to figure it out.

Especially after their first run-in ever.

He knew exactly what her family did to her. He just preferred hearing it from her first before making a comment on it himself.

He noticed plenty.

He just didn't like being aware without anyone telling him of it. He wanted to be trusted. He wanted to be needed.

He liked being a safe haven.

It made him feel as if he had a purpose.

As he walked to lunch, he heard the whispers around the halls. The student body wasn't exactly being very quiet.

"He helped Evelyn Moreau when her books fell."

"They talked. He talked to her. Can you believe that? How is that possible?"

"It was a decent conversation. He even cracked a smile. Maddox never smiles."

"Why Evelyn? She's a nobody. A complete and utter mistake."

Shaking his head at the stupidity of the comments, he opened the oak wood cafeteria doors.

A hush fell upon the students.

Searching the cafeteria, his eyes found Evelyn's small frame eating fries in the corner table of the room.

Strolling over, he took a seat opposite her.

"So if I ask again, will you tell me?"

Looking up to take notice of him, she closed the book in her hands, sighing. "If you already know, why must you ask?"

"Because even if I know, it means I just know. It doesn't mean you willingly wanted me to know," he shrugged, "I'd rather comment on it when you tell me."

Handing him a fry, she cracked a small smile.

"You'll be waiting a while," she mumbled apologetically. "It's not exactly something I would want anyone to know."

Understanding her reasons, he backed off. Taking the fry, he popped it into his mouth.

"Why do you sit all the way back here," he curiously asked.

Letting a quiet chuckle slip through, she raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you see anyone here wanting me to sit with or even 10 feet away from them? No one wants me around," she said with slight humor in her tone.

"How about me?"

Scoffing, she replied, "You're just curious."

"We'll just have to see about that," he shrugged looking out the window.

Glancing at his relaxed form, she sighed and looked away before he could notice her stare.

"I guess we will," she murmured.

Looking back at her, Maddox saw something she didn't.

He saw hope.

At least that's what he prayed he saw.

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