The Ghost's Diary 👻 ✓

13. Into the Cemetery

Lindsey Agnes
Knightley

Running, it is the thing that does not require your concentration. It does not demand you to give attention, just moving and moving. And maybe that is what I'm doing right now.

After having that fight with Dylan, I quickly grabbed my bag and ran out of the house without a second thought. Thirty minutes have passed and I am still running like my life depends upon it.

I turn my head to the side to see where have I stumbled upon. Honestly, I'm running this long and I don't even know where I am.

And the first thing I see is a pole with a sign that says, 'Cemetery'.

The old cemetery of my city where every single dead family member of mine is buried.

The place where my parents and sister are resting.

The horror movies that we've till now have always shown cemeteries as the haunted places where zombies, ghosts and whatnot creep out of their graves.

Even if they exist or not, they have made us afraid of the place we all most will certainly come. No matter what.

I have been also afraid of it but now... I find myself making my way towards it.

As I enter the cemetery, I am instantly greeted by two dead trees and the sound of crows.

Oh great, you really do want to prove all those rumors about you true, right?

Although the rest of it is pretty... decent.

I walk in between the graves and stop to see some similar name.

Charles Sylvester Knightley (1962-2008)
A loving son, husband and father.

Jennifer Carmella Rosen-Knightley (1964-2008)
A loving daughter, wife and mother.

Kathleen Madeline Knightley(1995-2008)
A loving daughter and sister.

My family here... buried in a row.
For a moment or two, I just stand here and the soft wind blows a few strands of hair on my face.

Then, I sit on the ground and pull my legs near my chest and wrap my arms around myself.

I close my eyes and let the silence absorb me. Staggering memories come into my mind. One is of Mum. I shake my head and will it think of something light... but still her...

I shut my eyes.

No. Nothing else. Please...

For a minute, my mind goes blank, as if there is nothing in it.

I bury my face in my own arms as there is no one to comfort me. Yet again, I am alone. I am yet again my very own very best friend.

I don't know how much time has passed but when I look through my arms, I see a light. A light that is not coming from the sun but from another source... my bag.

I quickly open it to see the journal glowing inside of it.

The journal is glowing?

Suddenly, the journal falls out of my hands and onto the ground, opened, and it's pages shining.

What the...

The journal starts glowing so bright that I am momentarily blinded.

I slowly open my eyes and see that there are words on the journal pages.

Not another riddle...

I look closely at me and read the date

"23 July, 1890."

It is a journal entry!

I count the pages where there is ink and the total number of pages.

Ten written, forty in total.

"Today was absolutely excruciating.

Father wishes me to assist him in the family business even more than I already am. One has only twenty and four hours out of which I work fourteen hours. It would not be so terrible for him to atleast appreciate that.

Atleast my mother and Isabelle are supporting me. Isabelle evens endeavours to assist me herself.
But a man like myself can not allow a woman to do his work.

Father could learn a thing or two from them. I do so wish for my childhood to come back.

And also Meredith, my cousin who has been living with us for about a few weeks is not much helping my situation.

She is not even my actual cousin. Just Mother's friend's daughter.

But I think there is something wrong with her. Something that she does not want anyone else to know.

Honestly, I should be getting to sleep now.

Henry Fitzwilliam Knightley."

That was the first journal entry and I think the ghost finally gave me a decent clue.

So how did you guys like this chapter? Atleast SOME answers are 'plotting' their way in now.

Music: You Don't Know-- Katelyn Tarver

Avoid weird typos.

Love,
MS Zame;)