I have no idea what's happening. I left the journal in one of the storage boxes under my bed. Not even Bastian would think to look there right away, because I put it in the one full of dolls that I never play with. Unless someone snuck into my room through the window, crawled under my bed and removed the journal completely silently in the middle of the night WHILE I WAS SLEEPING there's no way this can be happening. It's just not possible. I'm beyond freaked now. I'm terrified. I mean. . . the things that were written were vague and fairly unthreatening, but that they're there at all is like someone coming into my territory and moving things around without my knowing. Even Verge wouldn't go this far. So what is?
I guess this might be a good thing though? I'm trying to be optimistic but it's really hard, but maybe whoever is writing in my journal is trying to help me. They gave me perfectly legitimate advice, not to be afraid of fear. That sounds like something Dad would say, honestly, but I know it's not him because he never comes into my room ever. And he's cool but he doesn't know me well enough to know where I might hide the journal. And his handwriting is far from neat however scholarly he might be.
Oh no. Here's another thought: the writing started right after we opened the box. The day we opened the box. Maybe the box really was keeping something locked away so no one would find it. I'm not the superstitious sort but Bastian's wild theories about the book have got me on edge. He says he thinks he found a book at the library right here in Remaine with those letters in it, and he's translated a part of it to mean "Hold if one read, lest ending deed." It's weird and riddlish and vague but it's incredibly unnerving. Everything has been unnerving lately. The eyes, the feeling like I'm being followed, the writing, the box, the everything. It all makes me feel unsafe. And what if we're not safe? Those pictures on the walls, in hindsight, looked like they were there to seal a demon away or something. I didn't make the connection until now but this is a really old house and what if we let a demon loose? No, I'm being stupid. I'm just scaring myself. Everybody knows demons aren't real. The only demons anyone should care about are the inner ones, and I'm not old enough to have those yet.
I'm going to try to ignore it and pretend it didn't happen because surely it's got to stop tonight. Surely. I'll write about what happened at school today.
Bastian's got in trouble again. He tried to sneak out of school and come home to fiddle with the box, but he got caught by the school's one security guard. He had such bad luck, because there are actually three guards who come on different days, and today the meanest one was working. Bastian got a smack upside the head so hard he said his vision blurred, and he was dragged to the principal, who threatened to suspend him if he keeps making trouble. Bastian almost got expelled from his last school, but he can't get expelled from this one since we're not in the city anymore and this is the only school he can go to. We can't move again. We don't have the money. So he needs to be really careful and think about what he's doing. I really like it here and I want to stay even if he's a big dummy and he can't sort himself out.
Verge and Dad are leaving for the museum in two days. Verge is really excited, though I don't know why he would be because the museum is boring, all full of dead stuff. Whatever makes him happy, I guess. But Dad's also pretty excited too. He's been reading all kinds of dusty books trying to brush up on his history so he can show off to Verge at the museum. Those two are birds of the same feather. They'll have a lot of. . . whatever you have when you go to museum with your favourite person. It definitely isn't fun because who has fun at a museum, but it'll pacify the two of them and make it so they leave the rest of us alone.
Mom and Chance have made up though. Chance stopped putting up a fuss about his teeth FINALLY, so even though she has to watch him every night he's finally brushing on his own. He's also brushing his hair and he's beginning to develop a sense of style, which is really nice. He's really taken to the color orange even though it looks horrible on pretty much everybody, but he likes shades of orange that suit him really well. He's also started drawing pictures of his new imaginary friends in little sketchbooks Mom gave him, and he's getting really good really fast. He's not going to be as good as me for a couple of years because he just doesn't have the coordination yet (the kind that comes with physical development instead of just practice) but he'll really get there. He's a budding artist like me, and I can just feel it that someday he's going to be drawing blueprints and building whatever is on them, because he's all about the building things and taking things apart to see how they work. He might not be able to put things back together again yet, but he's so good at taking them apart without breaking any of the pieces. He even dismantled our phone.
And today at school I got a vocabulary list. I'm trying to use all the words but I'm not sure I got all of them right. I mean I'm good with words because Dad's my dad, and Cedric the Wordsmith refuses to let his children run around with only a mediocre vocabulary in their heads, but there are still some words I don't know, so I'm trying to get a feel for them. I'm already better with vocabulary than most of the kids in my class, so I think I'll do alright, but it's still good to try harder. Being better isn't good enough. I have to be perfect.
Mom's yelling at us because lights out passed ten minutes ago and everybody but Chance is still awake, though he's probably awake again just because of her yelling. I'm going to go to bed. I really hope whatever's writing in my journal will give me some answers if it writes in the journal again. I don't really want it to be real but if it is then I hope I can at least get something useful out of it. I almost look forward to it. Actually, now that I've calmed down this is actually kind of cool. Sleeping is going to be super hard. Goodnight weird writing!
Goodnight, strange girl.