Date: December 12, 20 years later
There were streamers everywhere, and at the end of a table sat a girl. She had long black hair down to her waist, intense crimson eyes, and a large smile on her face.
She opened a present that her mother had put in front of her, not noticing her mothers expression.
“A leatherbound diary? Mom, what’s this for?” Alice asked, holding a book up to the light.
It was made of a tough leather, the pages were decently sturdy, and it looked like it had been through hell.
In faded gold letters at the top it said, 'To My Dear Alice' And in fadded gold letters near the bottom it read, 'Happy Birthday'
“It’s a gift your father left for you. I chose to never open it, so I'm not sure exactly what it is.” Mom said, a lonely tone echoeing subtly in her words.
“It’s from dad? How? Is he here somewhere?!” Alice asked, excited.
Mom shook her head.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“No. I’m sorry, sweetie. He left this here for you when you turned 17. This is the reason I chose not to tell you much about him while you were growing up." Mom said.
She noticed Alice bouncing in her seat excitedly.
"Considering how excited you look, I’m guessing you’re quite happy. Your eyes are sparkling again.” Mom laughed.
“You’re saying this has information about dad, right? Does it say anything about where he is?” Alice asked, a glint of hopeless curiosity in her eyes.
Mom stopped laughing.
“Mom? Are you okay?” Alice asked, slightly concerned.
Mom shook her head, frowning.
“I’m sorry, Alice. I can’t answer that yet. You'll find all of the answers you’re looking for in that book, though.” Mom said, pointing at the leatherbound book which Alice held reverently in her hands.
“But why give it to me when I’m 17?” Alice asked.
“It’s in the book. Why don't you read it?” Mom asked.
“I’m kinda too excited to open it. My hands are shaking.” Alice said
“While your father was a great man, he wasn’t that much of a saint. You don’t need to hold him in that high of regard, Alice.” Mom sighed.
“But he’s my father. He’s my dad!” Alice exclaimed.
“....You’re just like your father, Alice. In a lot of ways. You’ll learn more as you read. It’s time for mom to go to bed, though. Don’t stay up too late reading that thing, okay?” Mom said, yawning.
She left the room and headed upstairs.
Alice opened the diary.