The Lost Chronicles

Rippling Waves Cont

 

I woke up to sunlight and Natasha poking me in the back with the broom. I grabbed it from her and threw it to the floor. “Inconceivable,” I muttered to her, sticking with the all-time favourite joke of The Princess Bride fans as a call back to the previous night.

 

“Breakfast. And then we go back to the library. That thing started up again this morning.”

 

“At least we know it sleeps.” I said up. My hair was a wonderful pile of knots around my head. I needed to start braiding it at night or something. It’d take me forever to be presentable.

 

Ten minutes later we were dressed and tromping downstairs for breakfast. My hair was still a mess. I grabbed bowls and spoons as Natasha picked out a cereal. I set the cutlery down. “Hey Nat, I thought you were looking through the notebook upstairs?”

 

“I was.”

I picked up the notebook from the table. “Then what’s this doing here?”

 

Natasha looked up, knitting her eyebrows. “What? – That can’t be the same notebook. I just saw it in our room.”

 

“Then why is it . . . ?” I flipped it open to a random page. “Nope. You’re right. This is different. Nothing about Avira or other ghostly instances in Fernwood like the other one.” I turned to the front. My eyes widened. “No way. This is about the house.”

 

Natasha set the box of Raisin Bran down. “What?”

 

“Look!” I thumbed through the pages. “A drawing of the house with a bunch of notes about the different rooms. Although I can barely make out this handwriting.”

 

“I should’ve made you take that calligraphy class with me,” Natasha said to herself as she took the notebook from me.

 

“This is about noises and sightings of shapes in the house.”

 

“You mean what we were dealing with last night?” I crossed my arm, feeling a scowl form on my face. “Does it say what it is? Or how to get rid of it?”

 

“No. It’s just documenting the specifics of each case. But there is stuff inked out.”

 

“Great. We have a partially helpful notebook about the paranormal that appeared in a rather paranormal way. How does that work? And who wrote these notebooks? Because local ghost lore is pretty common, but I get the feeling the rest of the town doesn’t believe in the supernatural. Except for whoever wrote these.” I realized I was looking at the notebook like I would a math problem – very ticked off and confused.

 

“Maybe this is from Mrs McKraken,” Natasha suggested. “We found the first one in the attic. Maybe she found this one in the shed and thought it was mine and brought it back.”

 

“If that’s the case, I should take her house keys,” I said. “But I suppose it makes sense. Well, more sense. There’s still the –” That sound reverberated through the house. “And it woke up. Let’s eat quickly and see what this notebook says.”