Reverend Green's Bible Of Misanthropy

A house call

08/03/19

11:30pm

A house call

4revgreen: Early this morning I was returning from a dog walk, on the path that leads me past the back of Scar's house, when I found a small, pocket sized black notebook. It was just sat there, on the path, staring up at me. Of course I picked it up, with the intention of reading what was inside. It was a slim notebook, but battered by time, a long scratch on the front, on the faux leather cover. The pages were tinged yellow, with lines and lines of pencilled scribbled crammed into each page. None of it was English, I could tell that much. But the writing was so small and somewhat chaotic that I couldn't actually make out what language it was. The only readable words in the whole of the notebook was on the inside cover, sprawled in a blue biro, separating it from the rest of the mess on the following pages. It read"Property of Robb Craily, if found immediately return to this address" followed by the Scar's address. I assumed she had dropped it by accident, or it had fallen out of her pocket without her noticing or something.

I slipped it into my pocket, intending to post it through the house's letterbox once I'd finished the dog walk and taken my dogs back home.My first thoughts were to try and decipher what it said, but I figured that it would be impossible and I should just return it.Returning it would also mean that I could get a closer look at their house, which I'd wanted to do since I'd seen the symbols spray painted on the ground and the windows. The police had come to the conclusion that despite the symbol that was gratified onto Julian Monsell's grave being the same, that no one in the Craily family was responsible for the act. My intention was to take some photo's of the symbols and upload them onto here to see if any of you could help identify what they are, I did not intend for what happened to happen.

After taking my dogs home, (I hated to leave them alone after what happened to Alphabetti Spaghetti, but doubt the Craily family would have appreciated me bringing 5 dogs onto their property) I followed path back round to their house. The path that I usually take, the one that goes behind their house, has a separate route branching off of it that loops back round, taking you to the lane that their house stands on. As I approached the gate, I could see that the symbols had been repainted, the bright white paint a stark contrast to the dilapidated nature of the building. There was also a fresh line of salt on top of the gate, trailing all the way round the brick wall that fenced in the property. There was also a fresh line of salt on the ground, and as I opened the gate, I tried as hard as I could to not disturb that line.

There was another line of salt in front of the front door, and I stepped over it, carefully. I reached out to open the letterbox and post the notebook, but someone pulled open the door before I could do so. It was Scarlett's brother, Hugo, standing there in a very baggy oversized plain black t-shirt that was ripped at the sleeves, and a silver necklace that hung round his neck- the charm dangling from the chain looked similar to the one's painted outside. He opened the door wider and motioned for me to step inside. He kept his eyes on me and awkwardly stepped inside, politely wiping my trainers on the doormat.

"Scar wanted to see you. She's in there." He pointed to a door that was only slightly ajar, to the right of the front door. Then he shut the front door, and slid across the many deadbolts that were spaced out up the side of the wooden frame. The house was falling apart from the inside too, but in a more homely, lived in way. Wallpaper was peeling away all over the walls, and many pictures of young children – Hugo and Scar – were hung in attempt to hide the blemishes, to no avail. I pushed open the door Hugo had pointed me to, which opened into a lounge area.

Every surface in the room was covered in loose sheets of paper, and stacks of old looking books, many of which were being used as coasters for now empty cups of tea or coffee. A tall, library style book case stretched up to the ceiling, every single shelf crammed full of books, none of which I had ever heard of. There was a television, sat upon a small storage unit. It was on, but muted, and old black and white film playing. I noticed a VHS player was attached to the television instead of a DVD player.