Act 1, Scene 2 Part 1.2

"Father, why are you standing in the dark?" Paul turned to look at his daughter who appeared in the Library hall he was standing in. Her name was Miranda, named after her mother who died some years ago. Miranda was blind; an ailment which she suffered ten years ago.

"My dear, come forth." Paul held out his hands. Miranda may be blind, but the ten years of existence here, made her sighted of every corner and corridor of the place she had regular accessed to. She lived in her own bright world of touch and feel, just as she had grown since then to be the woman she was that night. She had inherited her mother's beauty and intelligence but unlike her mother, Miranda grew up alone. She had no friends, nor relatives for the last ten years. She was dressed in a simple frock made from the leftovers of the place, but unlike her father, her hair was kept groomed. She was taught by her mother during young, that the beauty of the lady was in her hair. She had it groomed daily; sweeping the comb she had inherited from her mother on her long tresses of hair which reached her knees. She asked of her father to trimmed for her when it grew too long, as she does want to trailed it like a broom. Like her father, she was barefooted and learned to move in silent steps with her senses peaked to hear out the unusual noises.

"Its raining, Father." Miranda clasped her arms around her father after approaching him on her soft slippers made by her father. "I feared the thunder and you were not in your room. I knew you would be here next."

The father held onto the daughter tight when he sighted the next lightning streaking across the skies. True to its act of nature, the call of the thunder was heard. It sounded like the exploding guns. Miranda held onto the older man for comfort. She had feared the thunder as a child. More so when she recalled the night they ran away from the bad men; the shooting and the killing.

It was like in her nightmares. Mother was with her, and shielded her from the gory scene. It was always in her dream, the last minutes. She was under the bad with her mother in her room. They were shouts and shooting.

"Stay, Miranda. I would get your father." Her mother pulled herself out but the child held onto the her legs.

"Please don't leave me alone." Miranda pleaded while her mother leaned down to comfort her.

"I would be find, Miranda. Your father needed me." Her mother got up to go but the young girl of eight refused to let go of the mother. The mother leaned down one more time.

"Miranda, there are times when you need to grow up. This is one of them. Be brave to faced the new world. Be tough to handle it." Her mother told her. "I need to go."

With that, the mother stood up one more time. She looked to the weeping child who finally let go of the leg that she was clinging onto. Her mother took two steps before the room door was broken in by the kick. In came the ruly looking man with\ the shotgun.

"The bitch is here." His famous last grouse words, when the mother shot him with her handgun. She was too slow to fired again when the companions of the dead man stepped up to shoot at her. She was gunned down with three successive shots.

"I done it, Alan. She's one dead bitch." The mother blown back by the gun shots had landed on her back against the wall. The child screamed out in fright and the man who shot walked in.

"Alan, the younger bitch here." The man moved the bed, to revealed the child. He raised his gun and shoot at her. At that time, another shot was heard which brought down the first shooter. But the child was not that lucky; she was shot  when she moved her head. The shot glanced across her forehead just above the eye brows.

"Miranda, the thunder is over. We would be fine soon." Her thoughts was brought back to her father calling her. He was her savior and bastion for the last ten years.

Paul assured her daughter. She leaned on her her father's body for the comfort. The Library Hall was a huge one with the shelves of books that lined up two levels up but they were hardly touched except for the collection of Shakespeare plays. Those were the favorite of Paul who likes to read to his daughter. The hall was serviced by four doorways and two hidden ones that was concealed behind the shelves. The hall was furnished with a long table that seats eighteen with two sets of seaters on the far walls of the Hall. There was one wide desk which paul used for his correspondence and works. The Hall opened to the lawns with its twin high glass doors with two high ceiling windows with the heavy dark drapes that hung by its side. It opened up to show the valley where on occasion a solitary truck could be seen.

"Father, why are you standing here? You do not stand by the window when it rains." Miranda spoke as her skin felt the coldness from the night air tinged with the wetness from the rain. He did not reply.

"I am sorry about last night. I was..." But Miranda' words were interjected by her father.

"I am waiting for someone, my dear. Someone from our previous life." Paul replied to his daughter. His eyes watered as he recalled that night. That night, he heard the scream when he was at the room two doors away. He was wounded in his chest and left forearm but still holding onto his gun. He remembered then that his wife was with his daughter. He rushed out in time to see the guy shot into the room. The man was partially seen by the doorway, but soon went in.

Paul hobbled over in time to see his wife dead and his daughter threatened next. He drew his gun and shot the man twice in the back but the later had also fired. He rushed in and grabbed hold of his daughter. Her face was covered with blood, but she was breathing. He carried her up and was to move out when he saw Christopher standing there.

"Jesus" Christopher saw the dead bodies but his gun was still leveled at Paul. He kicked at the dead body by the doorway.

"You got to go, Paul. I would cover for you." Christopher told the man holding his daughter. But the man was not moving and his gun was leveled at Christopher.

"Move it, Paul. You shot Brady. Alan would be pissed." Brady was Alan's brother in law and also the father of Stanley. "He loved Brady like his own brother."

Paul was still not moving. He was unsure if Christopher would shoot him in the rear. But the later lowered his gun. Then Paul took off with his daughter down the corridor. Christopher stood there until Alan came rushing in.

"What the..." Alan uttered out. He saw the two dead men."Who shot Brady?"

Alan glared at Christopher.

"Did you do it?" Alan Nates then was as crazy like before. He raised up his gun to point at Christopher.

"Did you kill him?" Alan asked again. Christopher shook his head.

"When I came, he was already dead. So was she." Christopher pointed to the dead lady. "They were all dead."

Alan looked to the dead lady and leveled his gun to shoot at her until his gun ran out of bullets. He then walked out of the room to search for Paul Miller. He never knew that Paul Miller had escaped by the back door to his car. The father and daughter drove off in the night. It was the 1905 model of the Ford T with its famous shade of black. The car was available in any colors except its black was their motto then.

It helped Paul that night when he escaped as the black car without its light was hardly seen on the road until it was too darned near. He drove for hours and ended at the Sanatorium. He knew a good friend there; Doctor Avery who had helped in some medical cases. He knocked on the good doctor's door at two in the morning.

"Doc, its Miranda." Paul hobbled over to the room. "I need your help."

Doctor Avery was a brain doctor then, and he tended to their wounds. He cleaned Miranda' wound and found that she was lucky to be alive except that the child may need more medical attention. He spoke to Paul

"Mr Miller, I don't know how to put it. Your daughter was wounded at the forehead with the bullet grazing it, but there were internal injuries. Its her brain I am afraid." The doctor looked to the man seated on the armchair with the chest bandaged. It was their six th day stay at the Sanatorium; well kept secret by the Administration as they were afraid of Paul Miller. More to it, he was their biggest undisclosed funder.

"The part of the brain which controls our vision is the occipital lobe. It is part of the cerebrum which is located in the front of the brain. Although the actual component is the occipital lobe. The occipital lobe is located at the back of the brain." Doctor Avery was trying very hard to explain to the man whom he knew does not value his life if not for the daughter's. "Her gun wound could had affected the sensory that assisted sight."

"Doc, you are telling me that Miranda could be blind?" Paul stood up and faced the doctor. The later nodded and looked away. He was waiting for the physical blows but none came. The wounded man walked up to his daughter on the bedding. He looked down at her sleeping body and then back to the doctor.

"Do what you can." Paul told the doctor. He then left the room. Soon after, four weeks later, the Sanatorium was declared sold and due to close in a month. The staff and inmates were all relocated but there were two who stayed. They stayed for ten years till that night.

Miranda was never to know that the death of her mother was the cause of her father legacy. She was never to know for the last ten years, her father had hidden himself here from the very person who had her mother killed.