| EnglandXSick!Reader - The Notebook | Ch2

CHAPTER 2 – GHOSTS

Silence in the room.

There wasn't a sound as you lay on your bed envisioning sweet thoughts of nothing into the quiet air. Thoughts about life…who you were…where you were…who was Arthur.



…Aurthur…Kirkland?




Had you remembered him, you would not be sitting and wondering, rather, you'd be sitting beside your beloved husband and retelling the story of your past. Yes, the old Notebook, otherwise known as the journal of Arthur Kirkland. Your story, written in his words, that was all he wanted you to know.

"I fancy you would like for me to read my article here, love."

And there was Arthur, standing at your front room door. You smiled, for whoever he was; he sure seemed like the very gentleman you would like to see.

"Why yes, and I assume you have said article?" You rose up and sat on the small leather ottoman.

"That I do, love."  Arthur then sat beside you, on the red loveseat, legs folded, face smiling and warm.



What made ________ such a divine being? Was it her alluring [h/c] locks? Her porcelain [s/c] skin? Or no, I bet it was all of that mixed with her bubbly yet submissive aura.

It was December on 1937, I was 26, when the war started, just as father had planned. I returned to town that day to say goodbye to my father, and in five weeks I found myself at the recruiting training camp. After that I didn't even bother writing to him. In lieu, I wrote a letter to ________, every day. Three hundred sixty-five days that year, one year.
I remember the war ending up in Europe. At that same day I returned home to my father with one thing on my mind.

Daddy, I'm home, I'm safe.

As I brought myself over to my father, I noticed his coughing, his wheezing. I was told the common cold, flu, or whatever. Less than a month later he died and was buried next to my mummsie. I did visit him everyday however, to send my prayers and pay my dues to the most important man in my life, the man who had taught me everything that mattered.

And with all that I had no doubt but to grow the family in this house. The patch of the roof, the stairs and hinges.  The neighbor upstairs paid me for what I had done, with which I decided to but groceries. And when I returned, I couldn't help but look at what a bloody fine job I did to my newly painted abode. Instead of unpacking the groceries, I did treat myself to a few drinks. Me, myself and I…as well as Tinkerbell but she…doesn't drink.

I drank to my heart's desire, forgetting the fact that in all those 365 days, _______ hadn't written back once to me, and that she was with a much richer man.



"My, Arthur that sounds awful." You held your silk scarf to your mouth with a light gasp.

"Doesn't it, love?" He held the notebook close to his chest and sighed. "No worries, though, we are happy now, aren't we?" A smile grew to your frail face as you placed a hand on Arthur's.

"Yes, this book is telling me so much."

The white-attired nurse tapped on the doorway and glanced at Arthur.

"I'll be back to read to you some more later, love." He slowly reeled his face to your pink cheeks and kissed them softly, giving back your hand, and left.

That's when you looked down at that hand and noticed your wedding ring.