After the departure of his brother was 5 years old, I went to live alone. The days and nights flew away. In the village where I lived, I had no real friends. For example, some friends. So I did not even have to talk to. Gradually approaching the loneliness I drove away reading books by the fire. They somehow helped me to forget the cold dark evenings.
My most favorite book was a book titled "missing brother." It describes exactly the same story, which took me to his brother. As if the writer was standing behind us and wrote down everything. But the end of the book to be happy: the brothers after a long separation still met. That's why I have this book and fell in love.
One day, as I usually read a book, and a corner of my eye I saw movement on my room. I raised my head to see what was going on, but no one was there. Not giving that much, I continued reading the book. After a while it happens again. This time I put the book on the table and walked all around the room. After checking all the angles and openings where someone could climb, I found nothing. But the collected return to his warm fireside, I noticed a strange shadow, sitting on a chair in the corner of the room near the entrance. She sat motionless, as if dozing. Ran down my spine tingling, but taking their courage, I went at a slow pace to the direction of my night guest, being careful not to make noise.
Up to him for a considerable distance, I was able to consider features a stranger in the dark. The first thing I saw - this white blind the eyes that looked at me. I have all my gut feeling this look for yourself. It was a very strange feeling. Approaching closer, I could not believe my eyes. Stepped back and tripped over a corner couch, I fell to the floor. It was a Hero.
Me: What? It can not be! Hero, is that you?
Me: Do not be silent, say something. I have not seen you for five years, I thought that you were dead.
Hero: Co ... me ...
Me: What are you saying? I do not understand.
Hero: Go ... in th ... my room...
Me: Go to your room? Why?
Hero: Blog ...
Hero said, and disappeared. At this point I found myself in a chair near the fireplace with a book in his hands. From the entire body dripping sweat streams. It seemed that I was up and down poured a bucket of water. Slightly recovering himself and examining ideas in my head, I felt a light breeze swept through my body. But all the windows and doors were closed, so drafts will not be coming from. Outside the window was pouring rain, every minute could hear thunder and blinding lightning appeared.
I realized that it was a dream, but just in case, turned his eyes to the place where he was my brother. As expected, there was not. Scrolling in mind the words that he said to me in a dream, I decided to go to his room to find the diary, which he spoke. Honestly, I did not believe that it exists at all, but just in case, decided to check out. Taking a candle in hand, I moved to the second floor to the room Hero.
After a couple of years after his disappearance I made moving furniture, and everything unnecessary from the house placed in his room. In the room there were a lot of boxes with old things, as well as myself have long been obsolete furniture. Right in front of the window in his room was our old dining table. I decided not to throw away, and just leave them here. Who knows, it may even come in handy someday. Came to the table, and lit his brilliant varnished surface, I noticed a strange blue light notebook at the corner. "How could she be here?" - I thought. Chasing away the dark thoughts away, and put the candle on the table, I decided to see what it says. It turned out that this is the diary of Hero. The horror, the surging wave at me at the moment is beyond words. I stood stock-still, looking at the diary and twisting in the head in a dream event. "It can not be! Possible when moving furniture, I did not notice it, and automatically put it on the table? "- Again, I thought. Standing in this position a couple of minutes, I finally dared to open a diary.
On the first page describes our childhood as Hero experienced the death of our parents, it was obvious that he had fallen into a deep depression. Leafing through page by page, and reaching almost to the end of the diary, I noticed an interesting account of his work. He never told me about his work, and now I have the opportunity to learn about it. It turned out that Hero was a miner, not far from the village in the forest called Old Creek. Mine, in which he worked, was not far from this village, which was very convenient for him. Just half an hour's walk and you're at work.
Putting aside the diary, I returned to my seat by the fire. My head was filled with different thoughts. From reading it was clear that all was not lost and that there is still a chance to find Hero. I once swore around to help his brother, what would have happened to him. Reading the diary gave me great hope to find his brother, which is why now I know where he lives and works. "Everything's decided! Tomorrow I go to the path to the Old Creek "- Suddenly I cried. But with the head does not go sleep, namely, why the Hero had white eyes, why ...