It was a cold, rainy day in December. There was less than a week until we got out of school for winter break. Usually my teachers don't give us work before a break, but my bastard of a History teacher decided he'd assign us a 2000-word report due the day before we got out. I knew I wasn't going to be there then; I was going up to the mountains in North Carolina to spend Christmas and New Years' in Lenoir with some old friends I hadn't seen since I moved.
So, in other words, I had to turn in the report a few days prior, as in that day. So, deciding I'd get started, I found a book I thought would help me, and sat down at a table with my laptop, so I could begin my report. After what seemed like forever, I finished my report and printed it out. I went to go get my paper from the printer, and when I got back, I noticed a small, black book sitting on top of my laptop, which was now closed.
This was strange. Not so much that someone was messing with my stuff, because that was common at my school. It was just that the printer I used was just across the room, and I didn't see anyone walking anywhere near the table I was at. Another thing I found strange was that nobody else seemed to notice it. Not that I'm ever exactly the center of attention, but if you saw a book appear seemingly out of nowhere onto someone's computer, wouldn't you at least raise an eyebrow?
Anyways, I could feel that something was off about the book, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I decided to take it home with me. It was only until later that I realized what a hell of a mistake THAT was... I quickly went to my teacher to turn in my assignment, then left the building and began walking towards my apartment.
Yeah, I know it might be strange for a junior in high school to live in his own apartment, but my parents divorced when I was thirteen because my mother used to abuse me, so living with my father was my only option. My father comes from a rather wealthy family, and living with him was great until he died in a car crash on his way back home from a business trip when I was fifteen. I was sad, of course, but I didn't have any time for moping; I had to figure out my living situation first.
I already decided that it would be a cold day in Hell before I moved back in with my mother, so I had nowhere to go. Luckily, my grandmother was kind enough to let me live with her until I was old enough to move out. Because I started school so late, I turned eighteen at the start of this school year. So, with the money my father left me, I rented an apartment of my own, and have been living there since.
Anyways, when I got home, curiosity overcame me, and I grabbed the book from my bag and looked at it. It was dusty, and obviously very old. The book was black, and the spine and edges of it were weathered and beaten. Filled with renewed curiosity, I opened the book. The first thing I noticed when I opened the book was that there was an inscription on the back of the front cover, which read To the reader; DO NOT READ.
I thought that was rather strange, as I didn't understand how a person could read something without actually reading it. But, as any careless person my age would, I didn't take heed to the alleged "warning" and proceeded to turn to the first page. As soon as I saw what was on the first page, or more accurately, what wasn't, I was slightly taken aback, if that's even the right word for it.
I turned to the next page. Still nothing. Same thing with the next page, and the next. After fruitlessly flipping through the pages, and seeing absolutely nothing on all of them, I closed the book and decided I would try to return the book to the library the next day. For now, I needed sleep. So I went to my bedroom and went to sleep. I had a strange dream.
In it, the book was floating in front of my face, and the pages were flipping like crazy, and a strange voice was telling me, "I warned you," over and over. It wasn't a human voice. It sounded as though it had multiple voices, like you would expect a demon to sound in a horror movie, and it had no regular rhythm to it. It didn't sound human. The pages in the book stopped flipping at a page somewhere in the middle of the book. Black ink droplets began to rain down onto the page from a pen, whose holder was invisible to me.
