The Diary Keeper ["The Dark Legacies" Series]

Chapter 47: When all dreams die

In the dead of night, I ventured alone to the unnamed grave, nestled deep within the heart of the old cemetery. The atmosphere was thick with an eerie stillness, and the moon's pale glow cast long, haunting shadows over the tombstones that stretched like silent sentinels.

I read the words in Latin. Then, with an ethereal grace, Hazel Fowler's ghost materialized in the air before me. She seemed to emerge from the very fabric of the night, her translucent figure bathed in an eerie, pale light.

The wind whispered through the trees, and I knew that I had but a brief moment to seek answers. I had no minute to waste.

"Hazel, just a few questions..."

"Ask anything."

"What are you doing in your afterlife?"

"Oh, I've found peace and contentment. I reside in a cozy house by the serene river, where I tend to my beloved flowers."

"Flowers? You had a passion for them during your life, right?"

"Yes, indeed. Being a florist was my dream, one I couldn't fulfill in life. But here, in this tranquil place, I grow the most beautiful blooms, just as I always longed to."

"That's wonderful. I noticed the cover of your diary is adorned with intricate flower patterns. Is there a connection?"

"Ah, my diary... Yes, the flowers on the cover symbolize my enduring love for them. Each petal and leaf represents a piece of my heart that I left behind. My diary was my sanctuary, where I poured my dreams and aspirations, just as I pour my love into these flowers. But when I died, my dreams died with me."

A wave of sadness washed over me. It was a profound pity that she had met such an unfortunate fate, passing away at such a young age. She could have lived a full life, realizing her dream of becoming a florist, and creating beauty with her own hands.

"Did Amos help you during your illness in your earthly life?"

Hazel's ethereal expression turned somber as she replied, "No, Amos cared more for his riches than for me. He didn't extend a helping hand when I needed him most, consumed by his own greed."

That were her last words before her silent disappearance.

***
I am here again, near Mia Lancaster's grave. I have to talk to her, I have to ask her a few questions. It's important, no matter what.

The cemetery was blanketed in a thick, eerie fog that swallowed everything in its path. The tombstones emerged from the mist like ghostly sentinels, their edges softened by the dense, gray shroud. Mia's ghost materialized before me once more, her form gradually taking shape.

"Hello," this time I didn't feel as scared. I suppose my consciousness had grown accustomed to the phenomenon of summoning spirits from the afterlife.

"Hello, Liandra," her smile was, as always, enchanting, "It's been a while. Why haven't you visited me?"

"Well, there hasn't been much of a need for midnight graveyard strolls..." I sarcastically chuckled.

"And now there's a need?"

"Exactly. I have a few questions. I'm not sure where to start."

"I'll do my best to provide answers to all of them."

Mia had always been a person with a heart of gold, ever ready to lend a hand and offer kindness to those in need. Her warm smile could brighten the darkest of days, and her willingness to help others was a constant source of inspiration. Sometimes that happens - good people die young.

"Once I heard someone crying in your room. It was really eerie, and I'm sure it wasn't my imagination. Do you have any idea what that could mean?"

"I heard it too... while I was still alive. It started after Emberlynn Everglenn's death. She died in my room. I guess she occasionally returns there."

Her explanation was even more unsettling than the sound of crying in her room. Poor Emberlynn Everglenn... She was killed for nothing.

"Alright, the next question will be somewhat nicer. It's about the cover of your diary. It shows that same room with the piano. Was that image there from the very beginning?"

"No, my diary was initially just a plain notebook without any drawings on the cover. But the more I poured my soul into it, the more it became a part of me. And one day, that image appeared there. It happened after I shared my dream of becoming a musician with it."

"I managed to get into that same room with the piano. What's more, I was in all three underground rooms... But I remember you once mentioned there's a fourth one inside one of them. I don't know how to access it, but I think it might be important."

"You should take a closer look - in the greenhouse room, there's a hatch behind the violet flowers. That hatch is the entrance to the fourth room."

I began to realize just how many mysteries this old place could hide. Each creaky floorboard and secret passage held the potential for a new discovery

"How tangled everything is in this house..."

"No kidding!" Mia laughed. Her laughter echoed eerily throughout the cemetery.

"And one last question," I gathered my thoughts, "A long time ago, I had a nightmare. In it, you begged me to let you out. But from where? Mia, you're dead. No one returns from there. No one has ever come back from there."

The rising wind added even more eeriness to the atmosphere. The air was heavy with moisture, and the distant shapes of trees loomed mysteriously, their branches disappearing into the fog's obscurity. It was a scene that felt both haunting and surreal, as if the cemetery had been transported to another realm.

"Liandra, don't pay too much attention to all signs of fate. Sometimes things happen just because they do. Not everything has a reason. Ghosts don't invade people's dreams - after all, we try not to violate personal space."

And her spirit dissolved into the air.

***
I sat alone in my dorm room, lost in my thoughts. Caroline was fast asleep, and the only sound that broke the silence was the gentle rustling of the wind outside.

I turned on my flashlight and directed its beam onto the pages of Mia's diary. Despite feeling that the whole idea was senseless, I decided to ask it for an opinion, hoping for some guidance.

L: Someone forged the will in my name. Someone wanted me to become part of this story.
D: You became part of this story because you agreed to it yourself. It all sounds like a fairy tale, and the human psyche loves fairy tales, doesn't it?

Overall, that was an interesting point... and maybe the right one.