~ Chapter Four ~

~July 16, 1997 (3:21 PM)~

I've never kept a journal before, not even as a

teenager. Jonathan seems to think it'll calm my

nerves and help put things in perspective.

I don't think he believes that these things are

happening. How could he? He's off at work all day

while I'm at home dealing with -- whatever this is.

I have no doubt by "putting things in perspective,"

he means that I'll look back on what I've written

on these pages and feel ridiculous. Overreacting.

I wonder what he'll say when he sees the plates in

the kitchen, standing on end by themselves on the

countertops.

~July 24th  (7:43 AM)~

Restless night last night. Whispers in my ears the

entire evening, ceasing only when I got out of bed.

Jonathan slept like a log, unaffected.

~(11:36 AM)~

Cleaning upstairs bathroom when whispers and

giggling began again, this time sounding further

away. I decided to follow the sound. Led me to the

spare bedroom at the end of the hall, which hasn't

been touched other than the occasional airing since

Aunt Chloe stayed two summers ago. Door stuck, but

several loud voices carrying on behind it. It

sounded like a party was going on -- I could even

swear I heard the tinkling of glasses.

Writing this in the café in town. Won't go back

into the house until after I pick Clarie up from

school.

~July 30th (5:08 PM)~

Things have become quiet. Perhaps whatever this

thing is has moved on, or become dormant. Either

way, I'm determined to find out whatever I can

about this house. We've lived here for eight years

-- this is the only home Meg has ever known. Why the

sudden disturbances after eight years of peace?

More importantly, why has it stopped now?

I can't shake the feeling that it's only waiting,

crouching in the shadows. Watching us. I doubt

we've seen the last of it.

~August 13th (2:43 AM)~

Nearly two weeks of silence, and now this! I don't

care what Jonathan says; there is something in this

house. Meg only just went back to sleep, and it was

no easy task. I would've moved her into our

bedroom, but Jonathan wouldn't have it. The door is

open -- hers is too. It's the best I can do.

I woke up hearing her screams coming from her room

and ran down the hall. Her window was pulled all

the way open -- something I would never allow, not

during a storm like this -- and the curtains were

whipping in and out of the room. She was

hysterical, talking about a lady in her room. She

said the lady tickled her awake, then ripped her

covers off and laughed at her. When I asked her

where the lady was now, she just sobbed.

Jonathan, in his infinite wisdom, declared that it

was just a dream when I told him about it and

rolled back over to sleep. I wish I could sleep.

~August 23rd (3:54 PM)~

Banging and chatter worse than ever, especially in

the kitchen. I've done some research on the house

and found out some interesting things. The house

was originally built in 1806. An older man built it

and brought his new wife to live there. It was

passed down within the family until most of it

burned down in 1923. Only the kitchen, the room

above it and the servant's staircase remained. The

property was sold and the new owners brought it

back to its original state with the addition of the

porch.

I'm not sure what this means, but it seems odd that

the kitchen is the coldest room in the house, and

the place where most of the disturbances started

and occur. The spare room where I heard the 'party'

is above the kitchen.

(8:21 PM)

Decided to eat out when knife kept flying out of my

hand while trying to cut chicken.

~September 4th (8:01 AM)~

No one in this house has rested well in over three

weeks. Meg has been crying every night about the

lady. She's taken to tucking her in after I leave

the room then yanking her covers off and tickling

her again. I never catch her, but Meg is terrified

to sleep in her room. We let her sleep with us the

past few nights, but she fights sleep as long as

possible. 

Jonathan claims something brushed against him in

the shower yesterday -- several times. He said it

was like someone was in there with him, touching

him. He thought it was me at first, then opened his

eyes and no one was there. I was in town, at the

grocery store.

Clarie hears the voices all the time now, and says

she's missing things in her room. She blamed Meg at

first and began locking her door, until she started

losing things the moment she put them down and

turned her back.

The girls are doing poorly in school. Meg's teacher

called me in day before yesterday to tell me she

falls asleep in class. Clarie is scatterbrained;

three of her teachers also let me know her grades

are slipping and she's falling asleep in class.

The banging and chattering noise in this house is

unbelievable. I've called Father LeCompt in to

bless the house.

~September 6th (7:48 PM)

Things were remarkably quiet while Father LeCompt

was here. It was twice as bad after he left.  Smell

of roses filled the air for the first hour or so

after the blessing, then a foul odor I can't even

describe.

~September 20th (2:10 PM)~

This thing seems to be focusing on Clarie now. She

can't sleep for all the activity going on in her

room. Things are moving in front of our very eyes

now. Today, her glass was knocked out of her hand

at breakfast. This is a common occurrence now.

Whatever it is, I think it's tired of being subtle.

Yes, that was sarcasm. I've found it rather

comforting lately.       

The girls are becoming even more withdrawn, grades

slipping further. Meg now wets the bed every night.

~September 22nd (9:32 PM)~

Just left Clarie's room. We were nearly finished

with her homecoming preparations when something

slapped her hard across the face. The bright red

mark still hasn't faded. She's so upset that she

has decided not to go to the dance after all.

Jonathan told her date she wasn't feeling well,

said the boy looked dejected, but understood. 

I could swear the house was laughing at us. It

wasn't anything I could hear, but I felt it. Why is

it trying to hurt my baby? What the hell does it

want from us?

(11:00 PM)

Have spent the last hour arguing with Jonathan

about what to do. The shouting seemed to rile this

-- spirit, for lack of a better term -- up. Banging

and voices increased -- it seemed to be happy.

~September 24th (10:24 AM)~

Clarie was tripped and took a tumble down the

stairs on her way to school this morning.

Thankfully wasn't hurt, just very rattled. It's

clear the malicious intent is entirely focused on

her now. I took her to Jackie's house to rest and

called in her absence at the school. Jackie called

within minutes of my getting in the door at

suspiciously quiet home to tell me about a racket

like the house was falling to pieces that started

ever since I left. It must've followed Clarie

there. Poor little Meg is scared for her sister,

but has told me that the lady in her room now

visits her when her father and I are asleep.

Very concerned about this malevolence directed

toward Clarie. I checked out some books at the

library and did some research on the Internet on

poltergeists and other real-life disturbances. I

refuse -- refuse -- to even think for a moment

that she's doing this to herself through some sort

of psychokinetic, teenage angst. It's ridiculous in

the extreme, not to mention a flawed theory

considering the fact that this thing made itself

known to me long before bothering the rest of my

family.  

~October 10th (3:30 PM)~

Noise almost constant now and attacks on Clarie and

now Jonathan becoming frequently more violent.

Request for exorcism from the church laughed at.

"It just isn't done anymore," Father LeCompt says.

"This isn't the Dark Ages, Mrs. Talbot."

He suddenly has quite the busy schedule, and no

longer has time to counsel my family or come in for

another blessing. I'm afraid we'll have to do this

on our own.

~October 21st (12:37 PM)~

Studied as much on the subject of exorcism as could

get my hands on. Many sources suggest that Clarie,

as a subject of spirit's attentions, should be

present. She insists on being there anyway -- wants

to be a part of banishing this thing. I sent Meg

away to Jackie's house until we're sure it's gone

for good.

After a simple house blessing, we'll gather in the

kitchen for the ritual. I'm scared as hell, but it

must be done. Just hope to God involving Clarie in

this isn't a dangerous mistake.

~*~

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