The Ghosts of Melbrew [1/12]

Chapter 1) Welcome to Melbrew

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It's a dark evening as I begin writing this book. A night where the trees creak outside my windows, with harsh, howling winds in the forlorn wilderness. I'm not sure what finally possessed me to tell this story after all this time, but one thing I've learnt is that you should always trust your gut. So, I'm going where the keys take me, as I trace through my memories.

It began back when I was only sixteen. So young, so unprepared, so naive, almost innocent. Nothing could've possibly warned me for the journey that lie ahead, for the things I've seen and the places I'd been. For then, in only my teens, my life changed in more ways than I could've ever imagined. I wasn't prepared to have my reality turned on its head, I wasn't prepared to see the truth, and I most certainly wasn't prepared to see the things that were not meant to be.

I've stayed in this town my whole life. I've seen faces come and go, and am good friends with the ones who've stayed. This place is different than it once was, but it still has some traces of its cursed past, though now faded from time. Somedays it feels strong, like I can feel it through the roots in the Earth. Yet other times it feels distant, and unwilling to show.

I've experienced a lot in my life, yet nothing has ever compared to the things that I had seen at the young age of seventeen. No one ever believed me, believed us. We never maintained solid proof, all of our camera evidence was destroyed during the ritual, but us seven know the truth... well, us seven, and the others silently involved who now refuse to acknowledge it. But those are all faces who have gone, to where, I'm not sure.

So, I suppose I'm here now, the next Robert J. Wright, the next Lord Lutho, the next Jane Howell who will become a mere conspiracy in the darkest corners of a library, waiting to be discovered, and inspire the next generation of those who seek the truth. I work at the school now as the librarian, and I take responsibility in preserving the stories here. Though I feel that now in my present, the whispering warnings we've heard long ago are to soon reign true... I just hope that the message can reach others, before it's too late. There's only so much we can do.

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My parents and I had to move across the country when I was sixteen years old. They are both photographers, and had gotten a job offer from a studio in Metalwood City. This studio in particular wanted them to focus on photographing both rural and urban life for usage in magazines and websites. Though we couldn't do this where we had previously lived, as the job specifically required the photos to come from the state of Washington. It had a much better pay than their previous job, and my parents were up for a change of pace, so they took them up on the offer.

Metalwood was a short 40 minute drive from a small rural town called Melbrew. Living there was extremely cheap, and my parents figured that they could run between the town and city for their pictures. Unfortunately, they were unaware that cheap living often comes with a different type of price to pay.

This town was founded by two brothers with the last name Melbrew, of course. It lay near the west coast of Washington state, with only a fifteen minute drive to the Pacific ocean. It was kind of in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by lakes and forest on all sides. That was the extent of my knowledge at the time of moving. I wondered if it would even be worth it to live there, but that decision wasn't mine to make. I never got to have a say in much.

My parents had sprung the moving announcement on me out of nowhere, leaving me with only a few weeks left before the move, the process started immediately. I was mad and upset, but I knew that there was nothing I could do to prevent it. I had to suck it up and go along with it, however sad it may have been. It was hard.