She stopped in at the nursing home on her way home. Mrs. Hetrothe was happy to see her, looking up from tucking Mrs. Potts into bed for her nap, and asked her how her school day had been. Isea answered the same answer that she always did. Then Isea started to head home.
She did not know why, but wet trickles fell down her face. As she got nearer the top of the hill, it began to pour quite heavily. Perhaps it was because of the rain that began to fall. Or perhaps it was because the heavy dreading feeling deep inside of her had not gone away.
That night Isea lay in bed with a square of moonlight slanted across her quilt. She stared out across her grey, dimly lit room, and out at the round white full moon nestled in amongst the fluffy silvery clouds. ‘I wish I could take it out of me, cup it in my hands, and have a good look at it,’ she thought longingly to herself. ‘Then I would know…’ But she didn’t know what she would find. The heavy lump of dread twisted about inside of her. ‘What was there to know?’ she thought. She could do nothing about it anyway. The feeling was simply there. Isea sighed uneasily by letting out a gasp of air she had not known she had been restraining; she turned to her side, facing the door. It was one of those many moments Isea had when she was alone to herself with no distractions. She was alone to look inside of herself and think about whether she was happy or not, and what she wanted to do with her life. The heavy lump of dread squirmed.
She threw back the covers stormily and hurled herself up. “Enough!” Isea declared hotly, “enough is enough! And…and…” The words fell out of her mouth, “and I must go.”