Chapter 2: The Hidden Diary

I sat up in bed, my heart jackhammering away. Those glowing eyes were alive in my mind just as they had been when my head touched the pillow—engraved in my brain. I woke in a sweat, shaking like that leaf in a tempest. I looked at my watch. It wasn't time yet. I lay down to try to doze again, but thoughts of that attic, that diary, that creature swirled in my head. I swung my legs over the side and padded to the window. The morning sun peeped over the rooftops; long shadows lay on dewy grass. An air fresh with the sweet scent of jasmine—the promise of a new day—filled the air. But something about this morning, this day, felt weighted with foreboding—a big black cat that would not turn loose. I had to get out of the house. I needed fresh air in my head. I threw on some clothes and went downstairs. Warm morning light bathed through the windows, and the air was infused with the coffee smell. I took a strong cup and settled at the kitchen table. I sipped my coffee, but the images of that attic, diary, key, and secret compartment haunted me continuously. I needed to go back. Then finally, I finished my coffee upstairs and came back to that attic. It was dark and cold from within, but now it seemed to hold some sort of purpose in it. There I found my diary along with the key. My hands were shaking a bit. I opened the secret drawer and drew out a journal, thick and leather-bound, with some kind of ornate gold lettering across the top front cover. The pages were all filled with beautiful, flowing script. I turned the pages; my heart was racing. This diary belongs to a lady named Eleanor. In great detail, she describes her life in Eldridge Falls: what she loves and what she has lost in her dreams. There was something else in the pages—something darker. Eleanor writes about secrets, power struggles, and love forbidden. She writes about a fire that destroys everything. It's as if Eleanor speaks alone with me while reading, sharing her secret with me. I became fully immersed in her world, part of it. The hours in the diary made me forget about the experience of the previous night's terror. It felt like discovering a part of myself, a bit of family history. I finally gave in and called Liv. I needed to share my discovery with someone. She answered on the third ring, groggy with sleep. "Emma, it's like four in the afternoon. What's up?" she grumbled. "I found something amazing," I said, my voice full of excitement. "I found a diary. It's like a time capsule." Liv's voice perked up. "Ooh, juicy! Tell me everything." I told her about this diary, Eleanor, and what secrets were held within the pages. Liv was enthralled. "You have to come over," I said. "We have to figure this out together." Liv agreed to drop by later that evening. I hung up the phone, a mix of excitement and fear welling up inside me. Oh, I was going to take chances in unravelling the secrets of Eldridge Falls now. The afternoon wore on. I continued reading the diary. The further that I read, the more questions I had. Who was Eleanor in love with? Why could they not be together? What had happened to her after the fire? And then, I found it: a hidden pocket in the diary. There was one piece of paper inside the pocket with a name and an address. Nathaniel Blackwood. His name resounded in my mind like a peal of thunder. Who was he? What were his relations with Eleanor? I got goosebumps down my spine. The ominous feeling that I was getting too close to something big, something dangerous, raked through me like a sharp claw. My mind raced as I stared at the address. It was a local address, a big old house on the outskirts of town. I had driven by it before, really—a gothic mansion in near-laughable degree amongst the quaint cottages. A wash of adrenal energy swept me up. I had to go there. I needed to know whatever connection Nathaniel Blackwood was to my family. But I wouldn't be able to go alone. I needed Liv. I reached for my phone and dialled her number. She picked up on the first ring. "Liv, I need you to come over right now," I said, urgency in my voice. "What's up, Em? You sound like you've seen a ghost." "I've found something. Something big. We have to go somewhere." "Okay, okay, I'm on my way, " her response came, riddled with curiosity. I tossed the phone beside me and began getting ready. In a mix of excitement and fear, I tossed on a jacket and grabbed my keys. This was a big step, and I didn't know what I would find. Twenty minutes later, Liv turned up, frowning. "You okay, Em? You look like you've seen a ghost." I lied and smiled. "I'll be fine. Let's go." We drove to the Blackwood mansion in an uncomfortable silence. I thought that house seemed even more intimidating up close. It looked like some kind of haunted castle, all dark and brooding. I pulled up before the wrought-iron gates and parked the car. We got out of the car and then up the long drive. Trees towered above this house, throwing long shadows over it. We reached the front door and rang the doorbell. There was no answer. I rang again, but still nobody came to the door. "Maybe they're not home," Liv said, her voice trembling slightly. I shook my head. "I don't think so. Something's off about this place." I took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. The door creaked, and the dark shadow of the hallway stretched out before us. We stepped inside, and the floorboards responded to our steps with groans. It was evil silence, if I may say so, in that house if not for some old grandfather clock ticking. The further into the house we were, the more uneasy I became. Dark and full of dust, the rooms were fitted with antique furniture, like entering an atmosphere a hundred years back in time. There was a huge staircase to the upper floors at the end of the upstairs hall. We started going up when we heard the noise from downstairs. A door slammed shut. Our hearts were going like frantic drummers in our chests. I clutched at Liv's arm as a shiver ran down my back. The house was alive, and it wasn't rolling out the welcome mat. "Did you hear that?" Liv whispered, her voice shaking. I nodded toward the darkness, my eyes raking over it. The house looming in front of us was almost like some silent, dark predator, about to pounce. We exchanged a terrified glance. "We should go," Liv suggested, her voice barely above a whisper. I nodded in consent, but something was holding me back. That diary, the secrets of Nathaniel Blackwood—this was too close to let go now. We crawled up the stairs, our footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. This house had an atmosphere where the walls seemed to close in on us, and the walls closed in further with every step upwards. There was a long corridor at the top of the stairs that extended before us. It had closed doors lining it. The air was thick, heavy, and weighted with oppressive silence. "We need to split up," I said, my voice low. "I'll take the left, you take the right." Liv nodded. Her complexion had gone white. We nodded to each other briefly before our feet took the corridors left and right. I opened the first door to the left as I went down the hallway. The room was darkened, but a slice of light from the hall through the open doorway showed me a large four-poster bed. Dust motes danced in the air, and the room smelled of old books and decay. My eyes would have, by now, gotten used to the darkness so that I would be able to make something out on the bed. A figure, covered with a white sheet. Blood raced in my ears. Creeping closer, my hand went for the light switch. The light flickered on and out of my throat came a scream. My heart began to thump in war drum beats. My eyes gaped with horror at the bed, the sheet sliding down to reveal a face that was—mine. There I lay on the bed, limp, pale, lifeless. The room spun, and everything went black. I came to the floor, my head throbbing. Liv was kneeling beside me. Her face was etched with terror. "Emma, are you okay?" she asked, her voice trembling. Bracing myself up, I tried to shake the weird dizziness from my head. I was freaking out in my mind. Whatever it was I'd just seen couldn't be possible. A double of me? Please. Yet there on the bed lay undeniable proof. "We have to get out of here," I croaked. Stumbling out of the room and down the corridor, our hearts thumped in chests. The walls seemed to close on us, the house drew closer with each step. Just as we were about to go in at the front door we heard footsteps coming upstairs. We exchanged one terrified glance, then there was nothing for it. We were out in the open street, fresh air, bursting out of the house. We fled across the lawn, our breath coming in ragged gasps, toward the car. As I got into the car to leave, I turned back to the Blackwood mansion and saw lights on inside, a figure watching us from a window. A creep of dread crawled down my spine. That figure wasn't human. It was too tall, too lean; its limbs were long and thin, its eyes glowing red in the darkness. It was the same creature I had glimpsed in the attic. A scream came to my throat, and I swallowed it back with an effort of will. My grip tightened on the steering wheel with all my might; the knuckles were white. We had escaped the mansion, but our nightmare was far from over. Now, the evil harboured within those very walls pursued us. And, I knew with an unconscious coldness, that it wouldn't ever give up until it had us.