Henry Dawson was only 23 years old when he was murdered in cold blood by someone close to him but what happens when his spirit isn't ready to leave his home.
21 year old Greta Hall is fresh out of an abusive relationship so she seeks solace in a com...
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I opened the door of my new home and couldn't help but smile. I Greta Hall am finally free from that so called man. I can't believe I put up with him for as long as I did, the whole time believing in was my fault why he kept hitting me. I always thought I was in the wrong but not anymore. I refuse to be someone's punching bag so decided to pack my bags and leave and here I am.
The house was simple yet beautiful. Very homey. The woods surrounding it were what made me buy it so quickly. The tall green trees and the little sparkling creek nearby were something like a fairytale.
I entered the house and suddenly felt very at home and calm. I'm not sure why I just feel like I belong here. Like I'm apart of this place now. Okay getting a little too poetic.
The only downside of this place is the previous owner sounds like a jerk. The man I bought the house from, Connor I believe his name was, said that his friend basically skipped town and it forced him to have to sell the house they shared because he couldn't afford give it the care that it needs.
I decided I would unpack tomorrow because its a nice cloudy day and I would rather make some tea and read a good book. I checked a few boxes I brought in and frowned.
Great. Just great. I forgot my box of books at the apartment. Books I've collected since I was little and they are in the city possibly in a dumpster now. How could I forget them? I wandered around the house trying to figure out what to do. I hadn't really thought of how lonely I would be.
I heard a creaking noise coming from above me and now I'm panicking. What if its a racoon? I'm not equipt to handle animals. I grabbed the closest thing to a weapon I could find which sadly is a hairbrush. This can do damage though. It's solid plastic.
I made my way to the hallway and pulled the ladder to the attic down. So far so good I thought to myself. I slowly climbed up and used my phone as a light while holding out my weapon to scare whatever it was off.
"I have a hairbrush and I'm not afraid to use it." I said loudly. Who I'm saying it to, I don't know. I pulled myself up and shined the light around the room. I didn't see anything except a ton of boxes. Better than a racoon I guess.
I opened one of the boxes and was happliy surprised to find a few books. Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, Bram stokers Dracula. This man definitely liked the classics. I'm sure he won't mind if I borrow a few.
Just then something smashed behind me and I gasped and quickly spun around. There was a broken picture frame and glass all over the ground now. There is definitely no breeze in here so how that fell I have no idea. I'm just going to get out of the creepy attic now.
I started to leave but then I noticed the picture was of a young man. I bet this is Henry. He was actually pretty cute. About my age possibly. Messy brown hair that spiked at the top and the lightest shade of brown eyes I've ever seen. His nose was a little crooked as if it was broken at one point. Maybe an accident or a fight? Although from the sweet boyish grin he didn't seem like the fighting type.
I found myself smiling at his picture. Why? I don't know. Its just a vibe I guess. His face makes me happy. Why would a guy like this just take off and leave his friend hanging ? Maybe I'm wrong. I decided to head downstairs and read now but then I see a notebook on the ground by the broken glass. I reached down for it and scanned the contents.
Its his journal. Henry's. Maybe I could figure out why he took off for no reason for Connor. He seems so nice and he deserves some closure. I could just give the journal to him but my curiosity is getting the best of me. I have to read it. I clutched the journal in my hand and headed downstairs determined to learn more about him.
Its been 30 minutes. 30 minutes of just staring at his journal on the table. Just open the damn journal Greta. I thought to myself. I hesitantly reached out for it and suddenly I felt cold. Not cold in a bad sense but a refreshing cold. Like I've just stepped outside on a cool misty day but I'm inside a warm house on a couch. Strange. I grabbed the journal and opened it to the first page.
Henry's Journal 02/08/15
"Dear Journal, or I guess that's how people would start this right ? You know nevermind. Lets start over. Hello. I'm Henry Dawson. This is my first attempt at writing in a journal because my doctor recommended that writing my thoughts on paper would help since I'm so isolated out here but I honestly don't mind being alone. This house makes me feel whole again. The calm woods take away the pain that is my life. When I lived in the city my life was so superficial. Going out partying with friend's, drinking and not taking the time to appreciate what I have before is gone...well anyway I will not be making that mistake again. I am turning my life around. Well in a sense of instead of getting drunk on alcohol I'm getting drunk on nature ? If that's even a thing. God I'm so glad that no one will ever read this. I don't even know why I'm doing this. I guess ... I guess I am kind of lonely. I didn't want to admit but the more I write the better I feel. I can feel the tightness in my chest relax with every letter I write little by little chipping away the pain that lies deep in my heart. Okay enough depressed talk. My parents wouldn't want that so on a brighter note its raining outside. That sentence didn't make sense. Well to me it did. I have always loved the rain. The sound , the feel, everything about it. Don't even get me started on how amazing and fresh it smells out here after a rain storm. In fact with all this talk I'm craving a walk in the rain. Until next time my pale paper friend."
