Harper's Hill, Chapter 27: The Hidden Journal

Camille knew a ghost was following her, but she didn't know why.

She had been experiencing more supernatural events lately... The clocks stopping at particular times, animals looking at her weirdly, but mostly, she had been seeing a woman. This woman looked so familiar to her, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Ever since the day with Emily on the East Side, when they ended up in the gritty alleyway where Emily's mom had died, Camille had started to think that maybe this was the woman reaching out to her. Could it be her Aunt Sharon? A woman who passed away so many years ago... What business could she possibly have with Camille?

Camille knew that she was the youngest of her generation in the family. She had heard that ghosts specifically chose the youngest, the least weighed down by grief and regret. The less tainted you were, the easier it was to sense something pure. Or... at least, that's what she wanted to believe.

Walking the usual route home from school, Camille felt that pulling feeling again that she had experienced when with Emily. She knew where that feeling got her last time, and she didn't think she should follow her instincts — she didn't know what kind of bad she would be led into. But what if this ghost was leading her to something good? How would she ever know if she didn't trust her gut?

Camille didn't even realize what she was doing as she took a left turn at Oakley Street, not a right. Turning right would lead her right home, and for some reason, that wasn't the plan today. So she turned left and started walking, not knowing where she was heading. It felt like she was searching for something that wasn't hers... Like she'd been quietly assigned someone else's unfinished business.

Three minutes down the road, Camille stopped and turned to look where she was. She had stopped directly in front of the town's nicest and oldest antiques shop, Priceless Penny's. She knew that the owner was a kind woman named Penny, as Camille had come into the shop before. The items that Penny sold were always so beautiful, and Camille had a locket from her Dads that she always wore, and it had actually come from this store.

Walking into the store, Camille was quiet. She saw the owner sitting on a stool behind the counter, reading a book. The teen smiled at Penny and the woman smiled back, silently acknowledging each other. Penny had an approachable look in her eyes. It was a look that said, "Come ask for help, whatever you need."

Camille walked through the store, keeping her eyes open for anything that might catch her attention. She saw precious porcelain dolls, a very old and almost completely rusted tea set, and an antique hand mirror adorned with golden accents. It wasn't until she was near the back that she saw a row of books. They were all older journals, and most of them were empty... except for one of them.

The book was made of real leather, with a red ribbon hanging off of the side, meant to be used to mark someone's place. Camille opened the book, and to her surprise, she saw that the journal was filled with someone else's entries. She didn't know if she should be looking at it, but she couldn't help herself. A whole peek into someone's life? How thrilling. How tempting. How very... intoxicating.

Before she could get a better look, she closed the book and took a peek back towards the front of the store. She saw Penny still focused on her book, barely paying any attention to Camille. She trusted her, but unfortunately, Camille was about to break that trust.

As the teenager casually slipped the leather book into her bag, she thought about why she was stealing. She knew that stealing was wrong, but she felt that right now it might be justified — she was afraid that if Penny saw her with the journal, she would take it away. Maybe it wasn't supposed to be on the shelves... after all, it had entries in it. Maybe it ended up there accidentally. Camille didn't want to risk losing it, so she decided to steal it. Maybe she could come back some other time and leave some money for it.

Camille heard a sudden creak, which seemed to be coming from directly behind her. She snapped her head back to the front, seeing Penny shift on her stool. However, the woman still wasn't paying attention. So, who had just been behind her?

Not wanting to be seen as suspicious, Camille picked up the hand mirror as she headed back towards the front of the store. She placed the mirror down on the counter gently, watching as Penny put down her book and looked at the price tag on the mirror.

"Just give me $15, sweetie," Penny said kindly, cutting off the price tag and typing a number into her cash register. Camille felt bad — she knew the price tag had said $20 on it. She was getting a deal on one item as she harbored another item in her bag, except for the fact that it was stolen.

Camille's hands shook as she took the money out of her wallet and handed the payment to the woman. The hidden journal in her bag got heavier with every second that she spent in the store, and she felt like it was already whispering to her. "S-Sorry," She stuttered, trying to come up with an excuse for her nerves. "I just get anxious sometimes. Out of nowhere."

"No problem," Penny said, giving Camille a friendly smile. "Have a wonderful rest of your day." The woman reached out for Camille's free hand and gave it a small squeeze, trying to be friendly. "Take a breath, you're okay."

Camille took the woman's advice and took a deep breath before composing herself and giving the shop owner a small smile. She slipped the hand mirror inside her bag, and she felt the journal in there as she did. Every time she touched it, she felt a sudden rush of energy. With her free hand, she gave Penny a small wave. "Thanks so much."

Once she was out of the store and walking back towards her house, Camille didn't stop. She finally took a deep breath — she had made it. She speed-walked the whole way home, half expecting Penny to come flying out of the store at any second, telling her she was a thief. However, Camille kept walking until the antiques store had finally disappeared behind her.

Camille rushed home. Once inside her house, she threw off her coat and shoes, ducking into the kitchen to get a snack before running up the stairs to her bedroom. Though no one else was home, she closed her door and turned the lock. Brimming with anticipation, she sat down on the edge of her bed. She pulled the journal out of her bag, letting it just sit in her hands for a second. She turned it over, admired it, trying to find details about who it belonged to before she read the words. She tried to build up the excitement, but she couldn't wait any longer.

Camille opened the journal, turned to the first page, and immediately felt the temperature in her room shift. It all turned cold. She started to read.