Home Again

Ghost Story

That night, I had a strange dream. I dreamed of two people in a laboratory: a girl with messy, brown hair in a pigtail and a ripped black shirt with the words 'REVENGE'. And a man, though I couldn't see him- only his shadow.

"The plans are going well," the man boomed, his voice shaking the room like thunder. "She will come to 'destroy' the totems, believing them to be my plan to take over Poptropica- but she will not realize my true plans."

"But she'll know it's you!" the girl insisted, placing a hand in her ripped jeans. "She knows who you are!"

"Not if we trick her," the man replied. "We will trick her into believing our plans. She won't realize what the real plan is. Especially if we use her little friend today." Evil entered his tone. "Our plan today involves using her friend. She will believe that the real plan involves such thing, too. Now, are you ready to set up the taster?"

"Of course, m'lord." the girl said, bowing. She faced me; something about her felt familiar. However, before I could figure it out, the screen blacked out. I heard a woman's voice in the distance:

Be careful, Alice.

"This island's creeping me out already." I mumbled, as we arrived on Hemlock Harbor. There are creepy, wooden buildings standing, and mist covering the floor like a blanket. We spoke to a guy and received some salt (apparently it keeps away evil spirits), and headed over to a cemetery. I like this island, despite all the creepy ghosts and stuff. It proves Poptropicans aren't immortal. They're called 'mortal' for a reason.

Anyway, we headed over to the cemetery. I don't feel very comfortable around cemeteries, even before... certain events happened. The night sky was dawning upon us, and someone walked out of the cemetery: a tour guide. He offered us late-night tours (you couldn't pay me to go on one of those) and handed us a pamphlet. However, the Magistrate caught him. He raced off before he could get into trouble. The Magistrate sighed.

"There was a time when Hemlock Harbor was a peaceful village," he told us. "Before this flock of ghost-hunting imbeciles turned it into a cheap tourist destination." He sighed again. "If you have no business in these words, I suggest you find lodging for the night."

Though it's your fault the ghost hunters are here, I thought, as Fierce Fox and I turned around.

"Talk to that guy," I pointed at a guy standing near the cemetery gates. "He's looking for his uncle's grave. Credit me now, it took forever to memorize this- Lot C, Plot 84."

"Thanks, and good work." Fierce Fox said, as she spoke to the mopey nephew. In return, he handed her a room key, and she returned to me. We headed over to a 'haunted' hotel, which is an old-fashioned, cob-webbed filled hotel, with fancy wallpaper and rustic bookshelves. Just the kind of place I'd give five stars.

"I'm so glad a room became available to you," the owner of the hotel (who looks like Edna Mode) said. "Well, I'm off to meet my husband. We need to make preparations... for the night." She walked off.

"They're going to try and scare us." I explained.

"Why?" Fierce Fox asked, raising her brow.

"Money," I answered, rolling my eyes. "Come on, let's go to our room." We climbed the creaky stairs and entered our little apartment. The good news was- oh wait, there was no good news. Well, except from the fact that the room has a bed. Apart from that, it's trash. There's a creepy portrait; ancient curtains; cobwebs; a rotting chair; a cupboard. Oh, and the worst part of all? There's only one bed.

I shivered. "Well... it looks like we have to... um, share the bed." Of course I've shared beds before. When I was little with my parents. But I hadn't actually been to a sleepover before (rude people never invited me), and besides, I'd never shared a bed with another person. I guess today was a bit of a change.