Being so confused caused me to start crying uncontrollably. Not like my own mother, who hated because of my father's behaviour and occasionally left the house without saying goodbye, Aunt May, my only relative, was very much like my real mom.
"Now why does it have to be Aunt May, oh my God..." I repressed the need to cry as I mumbled something in my heart.I still broke down in tears. Even now, I can feel them slipping out of my eyes. I sobbed as I held Aunt May's letter and paper.As I examined the letter covered with blood, my heart raced.
The air was soft with the scent of spring blooms as a soft breeze cradled my trembling body as the sun dipped below the horizon. I said, "Aunt May..." in such a low voice that the wind hardly picked up my words.
Taking a few deep breaths and forcing myself to hold back my tears were my attempts to calm my rushing mind. My memories of our time together, along with everything Aunt May had said and done, flooded back. I had no clue what that meant until I got this letter. It was difficult for me to make out what Aunt May was trying to say, but I sensed that she was trying.
Where do we go from here? I went to investigate her usual location for concocting potions. The only remnants of her belongings were a handful of empty bottles and a fragment of cloth. "This isn't like Aunt May," I thought to myself.
She always double-checked that everything was as it should be before leaving a room.I found little footprints on the dirt that led to the forest. I was already somewhat anxious when I saw blood stains in the tracks. However, I was unable to stand still. "I have to follow her." I unreasonable argued.
I quickly pivoted back toward the forest, evading the edge of the cliff and the river. To put some space between me and the flowers, I gingerly exited the area. As I made my way across the area, I used the crude tools, such as powder or fighting implements, that Aunt May had provided me to identify the plants and trees.
It was as if I were burdened with some heavy object; each stride I made was a struggle. However, I understood that this was my sole means to uncover the truth. I had a lot of questions running through my head as I went. Who assaulted Aunt May? On the other hand, did she intend to leave? After leaving, why did she even bother to leave a message that was covered in blood?