Sarah

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Julia's sharing some good advice with me. "You have to love your self before you can love anyone else, Lizzy. That's the key to survival dating an attractive man. Still, you're lucky. Dylan's handsome, but he has a good heart." She sighs, gustily adding, "I should know. I've dated enough narcissistic, dullards to write a book called Dating Nightmares!" With that parting thought, she leans down and gives me a hug before leaving again.

Two weeks later, I've been released from the hospital. I haven't seen Dylan or spoken with him since our fight. My heart aches constantly. On my hands and knees, in my bedroom, I'm viciously ripping up the pink, rose patterned carpeting. Rolling it back off the floor, I search for clues to my mother's diary. Belatedly, I know I'm taking all my anguish over Dylan out on the inanimate rug. Distractedly, I note the beautiful wood floors underneath. I make a mental note to leave them bare and not replace the carpeting.

Meanwhile, despite the cool air blasting out of the conditioner, I'm sweating like a demon. Pulling back an especially stubborn section of carpeting, I notice one particular part of the floor feels warmer than the rest of the room. It's as if I'm standing in front of a thermal geyser, or immersed in a natural hot spring. Sitting back on my heels, I register the warm energy surrounding me. It's so soothing and relaxing, my heart stops hurting for a few minutes.

Suddenly, a book flies across the room, breaking my serenity. I feel the cold chill of Donna's presence surround my body. She's trying to get my attention. Not only can I feel her, but I can also see her spirit, floating against the pink walls of my room. She looks eerily young and innocent, because there's no more more hideous scars or makeup on her face. Staying calm, I remember my promise to help friendly ghosts.

Speaking out loud, I address her presence in the empty room. "Donna I know you're upset, but you've got to calm down. You're draining my aura!"

As I'm talking to Donna, I notice a small patch of uncovered flooring in the corner of my room that looks less worn

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As I'm talking to Donna, I notice a small patch of uncovered flooring in the corner of my room that looks less worn. Reaching down, I feel the lighter colored section of wood. The boards aren't nailed down. Someone's devised a clever book sized hiding place under the floor. Grasping the corners of the loose floorboards, I lift them up one by one. Holding my breath, I peer into the darkened nook.

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