The Witch Elm

Chapter 1: Welcome to Alnwick

-It all started when we moved to the small, rundown, east coast town of Alnwick Massachusets. It was the 8th move in the span of two years and I thought it was going to be just like the others. My name is Jessy Ridgeway, and gosh was I wrong.

The droning of the teacher is enough to make someone who downed 3 red bulls fall asleep. Which, is exactly what I did. Twice. Breakfast and Lunch.
"Hey, hey witch house." I roll my eyes ignoring the kid in front of me.
Since moving here I haven't gone a day without being asked or told about the witch house. My house. A jumble of ancient and warped wood, pointed rooves, carved wooden pillars, and large glass windows. A gothic-looking monstrosity that apparently, back in the day, a suspected witch used to live there. She later got hanged and from what I hear, the house is still surrounded in infamy. Towns and their stupid legends.
"Come on witch house I'm just trying to say hi."
I sigh and look up in annoyance. "What's up?"
Tall, slim, and dark-haired and not too bad looking. The kid flashes a smile, tapping his fingers on my desk.
"The names Samuel."
"Jessy, a pleasure I'm sure."
"Alright, I can see I'm annoying you but hey, you live in the witch house, how could I not say hi?'"
"Yeah, yeah, the witches house, right."
"Come on youve heard the legends?"
"Yep, sure." I sigh, absentmindedly turning the pages of my textbook. "Keep going this conversation is so interesting."
"So you haven't heard the stories."
I snap the book closed. "Should I have?"
"You're the one living in the house aren't you?" He smirks.
"Fine, you want to tell me the legend?" I snap at him with a glare.
"I..."
"Jessy, Samuel, is there something you would like to share with the class?"
"No mam." We say in unison.
"Then I suggest you be quiet and listen. You might learn something."
Great, and now im in trouble.

      Lockers slam and students scramble to get their stuff and get out of this hell. I weave through the crowd, opening up my own locker and digging through it. I shove notebooks, textbook, and my lunch box into my beat up backpack.
"Hey Jessy."
I look up in surprise, Samuel is leaned up against the locker beside me.
"What do you want?" I sigh slamming the locker shut.
"Look, I'm sorry about getting you in trouble in class. It was my fault."
"Yep, it was." I push past him, not wanting to talk, however I'm not that lucky.
Samuel winds his way in-front of me, effectively stopping me in my tracks. I roll my eyes. What's up with this guy?
"Jessy, don't you want to know the legends?"
Maybe if I say yes he'll leave me alone.
"Yeah sure. Maybe it'll be good to know."
He smiles. "Ask the librarian about Hezakia. She'll tell you what to do."
"Wait what?!"
Too late, Samuel is gone. You've got to be kidding me. I have to go find out!? I thought he was just going to tell me. Ugh! I kick a soda can sending it flying across the floor. I shoulder my backpack and angrily walk out the door, heading for the library on 6th street.

      It's another old wooden building with a large sign with peeling black letters spelling out Library. Crudely cut wooden pillars hold up the overhanging roof. Crumbling stone steps lead up to the door. I make my way up them, grabbing the cold doorknob in my hand and slowly twisting it. The door loudly creaks as I open it and a small bell dings. I quietly walk inside, looking around curiously.
      It's dark and old. Dusty brown carpet with strange discolored stains, ancient portraits faded and cracking. Bookshelves line the walls, some of the books familiar like Harry Potter, Goosebumps, and the Chronicles of Narnia. But some are much older. Ancient bindings falling apart, the cloth covers faded with age and the leather covers cracked and water stained. The librarians desk is in the front of the one roomed building set against one wall. It's piled high with a book from every genre you could imagine.
      The librarian is a small older woman. Slightly pudgy with pink cheeks and sparkling blue eyes underneath round glasses gave her a grandmotherly look.
"Hello deary, how can I help you?"
"I'm looking for information on someone. I think her name was Hez... Hez something..."
"Hezakia?" The woman chuckles eerily.
"Yeah, Who was she?"
She slowly nods in thought. "Some say she was an unlucky soul while others, well others say she was a witch."
"A witch?" I reply skeptically. "Who would believe that?"
"I see you're not from around here."
"So?"
"My girl, around here it's best to believe in witches. There are far too many odd going ons around here to not. A darkness lies in this town, and it's not going away anytime soon."
I furrow my brows, watching the older woman as she stumbles around. Her voice is stern, showing strong belief in her statements. Crazy.
"Alright, I'll keep that in mind."
"You don't believe me." She drops a large book on the counter with a loud thud. "Why?"
Well because I'm not crazy. But, I can't say that. Instead I just shrug.
"I don't know."
She looks down at the book and smiles. "You will learn soon enough. As for information on Hezakia, the farthest shelf from the door in the back. I advise you to be careful though deary, there are some things better left buried."
      With those final and slightly terrifying words, she disappears through a doorway behind her counter. I am left alone.
      The silence of the library is almost unnerving. There are no computers to hum, no scanners to beep, and no people to turn pages. Empty, cold.
      I make my way to the back of the library.  Glancing from shelf to shelf in boredom as I pass. Then, I see the shelf she must have been referring to. It's old, broken, and falling apart. A thick layer of dust covers the nearly empty shelves. They haven't been touched in years. And, with only three books, I wonder why this shelf even exists.
"Alright Hezakia, let's find out who you were."
October, the Month of the Harvest and the Month of the Witch. The title of the first book reads.
"Nope, not you." I sigh, grabbing the next book.
Hezakia, the True Witch of Alnwick
"Not you either."
The last book bound in black leather glares at me from the shelf. I tiredly reach for it, pulling it from the shelf. To my surprise, there is no title, only a locked leather binding on the cover.
"Ooo you look fun." I mutter, carrying it over to a rickety wooden table.
I try to find a way to open it but it quickly becomes obvious that it needs a key. Maybe that old lady has it. I tuck the book under my arm, trudging back to the check out counter. A blue sticky note greets me from the center of the desk.
"Take what you need, Mercy." It says.
I scoff and walk out, the book clutched close. No key today.