Chapter 30: At the beach

It was in the early hours of June, the weather was cloudy, chill and it seems as though it was about to rain. The clouds had start closing in on the sun, everywhere was starting to get dark. Grace who has been driving for a couple of hours muttered under her breath curses, complaining why she had chosen that day to set out. When he left home that morning, the day felt like a good sunny day. The sun was up and looked promising and that was what made her to forget checking the weather forecast.

Grace just had about an hour left of driving before she reached her aunt's house, the one she recently inherited few months back. The house is old that Grace had always wondered why her aunt kept it. She has been there a couple of times before now and nothing had appeal her about the house other than it's closer to the sea. Maybe that was the reason her aunt has refused to sell it.

Finally it begins to rain, thus time she picked up her speed. She remembered, Dave, the man she's seeing currently warning her not to speed while it's raining. Dave is a perfectionist, an humanity teacher at the community college. He does everything adequately and respect the traffic light even when he can get away with this. That was what made her love him. The thought of being perfect.

Grace is in her early thirties, plump and works as the assistant doctor in the hospital down her street. She double shifts and a personal consultant for the aged people in the area, today is one of her off days and Dave had advised her to go check out the property her aunt left her.

After what seems like hours of driving, she finally got to the cottage. By this time, the rain had stopped. The property still looked the way it was in her memory only that the paint on the wall had start to fade off. Grace made a mental note to get that fixed. She hasn't decided what she wanted to go with it yet,if she's going to lease it out, sell it or keep it. The plan was just to check it out.

She stepped out of her car and walked to the front porch of the house, skim through her purse for her keys.

The inside of the house looked stunning, cozy, warm up and neat. It was far from what Grace was expecting, the pictures on the wall were were most of her aunt, faces she couldn't recognize and pictures of herself, when she was younger, her first birthdays and when she graduated med school. Her aunt took a huge part in her life, so she wasn't surprised she has memorable pictures of her hanged somewhere in her house. If it does anything, it only melted her heart. It was then she knew she was going to keep the house, she knew she can't let go of the memories her aunt had house in the little cottage.

She love the fireplace, it was huge and right beside the bookshelf. She pictures herself sitting there every morning with a cup of coffee. She moved closer to the bookshelf to see what type of books her aunt reads. There are mysteries, children's books-the ones she read while she was younger, old books written in the eighteenth century,and books written in strange language. Her hand rails across the shelf, going through the section of book, one after the other, until her hand touches a book that sends a sharp current through her. She removed her hand immediately, shocked and taken aback. She took a few steps away from the shelf, her brows raised in confusion. By this time, her hand had pickled and started to drip blood.

"Grace"

Echoes of her name flew across the room, in an eerie loud voice. Her heart starts pounding and she can hear her heartbeat from where she's standing.

"Grace!" the voice called again, in that same loud voice. Grace had thought the house must be hunted, she took steps backwards, her eyes searching for her bag where she had dropped it when she came inside.

"Grace!!!" The voice called in a more fierce tone.

"Don't run away, my child, I've been awaiting your return."

Grace flipped her head around once more looking for where the voice was coming from but saw no one. She's the only living soul in the entire house.

"You don't need to look for me, my dear."

"Wo, who..who are you?" When she found her voice, it was trembling. Her whole body, shaking.

"You can't see me, some call me a helper and I'll be helping you to find your origin."

"My origin?"

"Yes, pick up the brown diary on the shelf"

The voice had referred to the same diary Grace had touched earlier. She is confused, yet felt a wave of confidence in her and she took steps forward to the shelf.

"This one?" She finds herself asking.

"Yes" the voice replied, in a more calm tone and that gave Grace more confidence than before.

She moved closer to the chef and picked up the diary, this time it didn't pickle her hand. It's old, tattered, yet the pages were intact. It looks like it has been passed down from an old generation and had some strange inscription on it. The diary reminds her of the one Annie had in Harry Potter. She wonders if this is a kind of mystery she has to unravel also.

She thought of what she was to do with the old diary.

"You can take it home and read," the voice replied, reading her thoughts. This makes Grace more scared.

"I can read your thoughts, my dear. It's nothing to worry about."

Grace thought her head was spinning and she had just witnessed the most bizzare thing that happened. She spotted her bag, picked it and dashed for her car, with the aim of calling her aunt first to figure out what the hell she had just witnessed.