Dark Secrets [COMPLETED]

Chapter 5: Behind the Door

Back in my room, I began my trek through the keys to see which one belonged to the hidden door. The first five keys didn't work. Each time, I slid them into the lock and turned, only for them to stay in place. Eventually, I got to the last key—one of the older ones. Silently praying that this was the one, I slid it into the keyhole and turned.

Miraculously, the lock clicked. I pulled hard and the door opened, emitting a loud creak. The door revealed a dark space before me. Turning on my phone flashlight, I shone it inside.

It illuminated a small, windowless room. Judging by the dust-coated desk and moth-eaten bookshelf on the right, it looked like it used to be an office.

After propping the door wide open with a couple books, I ventured inside. A strong musty smell hung in the air, making me gag. I shone my light around, examining the entirety of the bare little space. On the left side of the room, there was in fact a window, only it had been completely boarded up.

I turned my attention to the bookshelf, curious if I could find anything interesting. It was an inch or two taller than me, and its shelves were bare, save for a wooden box of books. They were all covered in a thick sheet of dust.

I used my finger to trace the spine of the first book in the box. The dust peeled away like a layer of paint, shooting particles into the air. I sneezed and waved them away.

Underneath the dust layer, I saw that the book was bound with rough cloth. I pulled it out of its box and took a look at it.

It was an old journal. The pages were yellow with age, but in surprisingly good condition otherwise. I flipped to the first page and read the single sentence scratched into it:

This journal is the property of Meredith Elizabeth Kendrick.

An icy shiver ran down my spine when I realized this journal belonged to one of the Kendrick family. Back when they were still dating, Robert told Mom about the origins of the house: the Kendricks were the original owners of this estate, but his great-great grandfather inherited it through marriage when he married one of Old Man Kendrick's daughters who still lived in England.

I flipped to the next page, where the entries truly began, and read.

19 June 1915

Mother gave me this journal so I could have something to do while we settle into Grandfather Kendrick's new estate. I suppose I'll write a little about myself, even though I'm the only one who will read any of this.

My name is Meredith. I am currently sixteen years of age, and until recently, I lived in London, England, with my mother and her husband. After Papa died, she was so upset. Then she met William Castle and they wed.

Things changed after that. It feels cruel to Mama for me to say this, but I despise the man. I know he makes her happy, but I cannot shake the feeling of unease that comes to me whenever I'm around him. I feel that he's always watching, always observing.

That last paragraph struck a chord, and I set the book face-down on my lap. I didn't know how to feel about what I just read. On one hand, it was comforting to know that the apple didn't fall far from the tree where the Castle men were concerned. On the other hand, to read the same feelings I've been having for three years articulated by someone completely separate from myself was super eerie, especially considering Meredith Kendrick was probably long dead.

I closed the book, dog-earring my place. Then I picked up the whole box and placed it on the desk. Curious about the contents of the other books, I dug around a little. Sure enough, they were all journals, and all belonged to Meredith Kendrick.