Chapter 25
Dear Diary,
The nightmare is over. As Barnabas said it was indeed a long story. A story hard to believe but it explained so much, I have no choice but to believe it. Time travel, gypsies, curses, possession and madness. Yes, for the last 20 years Quentin had been insane. He believed himself possessed by a man who had died in 1897, a man with strange powers. The madness was brought on by Quentin's unnaturally long life, his brain couldn't handle it. He began to think he lived in the past some times, and other times he believed he actually was the dead man, causing him to commit acts of pure evil. He had killed members of his own family. He felt no remorse for his crimes when he believed he was Petofi, but when shreds of his true nature came back to him he was overwhelmed by grief, often turning to drink, only to have the alcohol bring back his evil side.
Today Nancy, Barnabas and I went to visit him at Wyndcliff. He sat staring out a small window, humming the tune I had heard that night in the secret room. As I turned away and began to walk down the long hall, he began to sing.
Dreams of long ago, Meet in rendevous Shadows of the night Calling me to you.
Tomorrow I leave to start my new life with my mother and sister in New York. I'm going to get a new diary I think. One with no reminders of the past. A fresh start, as Vivien Leigh once said, "Tomorrow is another day."
Ciao Forever,
Rhiannon.
Dear Diary,
The nightmare is over. As Barnabas said it was indeed a long story. A story hard to believe but it explained so much, I have no choice but to believe it. Time travel, gypsies, curses, possession and madness. Yes, for the last 20 years Quentin had been insane. He believed himself possessed by a man who had died in 1897, a man with strange powers. The madness was brought on by Quentin's unnaturally long life, his brain couldn't handle it. He began to think he lived in the past some times, and other times he believed he actually was the dead man, causing him to commit acts of pure evil. He had killed members of his own family. He felt no remorse for his crimes when he believed he was Petofi, but when shreds of his true nature came back to him he was overwhelmed by grief, often turning to drink, only to have the alcohol bring back his evil side.
Today Nancy, Barnabas and I went to visit him at Wyndcliff. He sat staring out a small window, humming the tune I had heard that night in the secret room. As I turned away and began to walk down the long hall, he began to sing.
Dreams of long ago, Meet in rendevous Shadows of the night Calling me to you.
Tomorrow I leave to start my new life with my mother and sister in New York. I'm going to get a new diary I think. One with no reminders of the past. A fresh start, as Vivien Leigh once said, "Tomorrow is another day."
Ciao Forever,
Rhiannon.
