The Curse of The Black Journal

It all started with that stupid little black book I found that fateful spring morning. I created my own paradise only for it to turn into an unbearable hell at my hands. I want to change it though, I would give anything to change it.

Life is strange. Sometimes terrible accidents can lead you to the most beautiful places. For me it was when the most important person in the world passed away, my grandmother. My grandmother was the only person I had. She raised me and taught me the wisdom she learned in seventy years of life. She taught me to heal from heartbreak. Most of all taught me to love and be loved by someone unconditionally. The $20,000 inheritance from her was more money than I could ever dream of having. As a 19 year old girl the only penny to my name was the weekly check I got from cashiering at the local market. This money could change my life... it would change my life! My hands shook as I held the check up to the bank teller

“Cash please.”

“Yes Ms. Sharp, anything else I can do for you today?”

“That will be all thank you.”

I always wanted to keep my conversations to a minimum. I’ve always been invisible and that’s how I planned to go through life. I still wanted to live life though and that’s why I booked a one-way ticket to the city that never sleeps, New York City. Growing up in a small southern town made me feel boxed in even though the surrounding fields and forests go for miles. The nosey neighbors of the town where everyone knew everyone else smothered her. This money meant I could try to start my life over again, like a Phoenix rising from the ashes able to be reborn again. I needed a fresh start and I wanted to become a writer. I was told I had potential, but if I was going to make it I needed to make money off my work.

The studio apartment I arrived at was smaller than I imagined 500 square feet would be. The ironing board I bought felt like it took up most of the room, but having wrinkle free clothes for interviews is essential. My most important interview was writing for MillienalNews which is basically just a virtual magazine with quizzes like “What Brunch Food Would You Be?'' It would support me while I searched for a more serious gig. Afterwards I knew I wanted to explore one of the biggest bookstores in the city.

“Sophia Sharp?”

“Hello yes, that’s me.”

“ Follow me to Ms. Montague’s Office.”

Allison Montague, the head writer for MillennialNews looked surprisingly the same as she did on her Instagram, she was another fitness model promoting another fitness tea. I knew how to fit in with popular girls from practicing in the hallways of high school. Smile, nod, and ask them questions about themselves that make them feel good. I aced the interview and got the job as another writer on her team. It wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but it was a step in the right direction. I headed towards the lower east side to find the closest bookstore. I had a new confidence as I embraced being a writer in New York City on my first try, even if it was working for a silly online magazine. I didn’t know I would unknowingly go and open Pandora’s box.

The crumbling brick building of Hartmen Brother’s Bookstore gave away that it was one of the oldest bookstores in the city. It was not the bookstore to use for backdrops in Instagram pictures. The dust covered miscellaneous books sorted by genre towering against the walls as if the store was made only by books. The shopkeeper that resembled a warlock nodded at me before returning to the novel in his hands as I maneuvered past the piles of books on the floor. The way I picked books was the same way my grandmother did; I waited for a book to call out to me to pick it up. That’s when in the very bookcase I heard the siren calls of the little black book. I picked up the soft leather encased book, curious I opened up the journal for a glimpse into a stranger’s life. But the pages were perfectly unmarked.No story or even random notes. I figured an aspiring writer could always use an extra journal, so into my purchase pile it went. That night I opened it at my desk, ready to write, but the second the ink hit the page it disappeared seemingly sucked into the paper. I jumped back dropping the book as if it had scalded my hand.The ink from my pen disappeared before my eyes. Then in a blink of an eye words were on the page,

“This journal can make all your dreams come true in exchange for a piece of yourself.”

I had never seen something so strange, but as I examined my cramped apartment, and thought about having to work for Alison Montague.

“What do you want?” I wrote even though the page was blank afterward.

“Prick your finger and put your blood on the page. Then write what you desire.”

I did as the book asked thinking it must be a new type of gag kids were doing at slumber parties. I wrote down everything a 19 year old girl could wto be a famous writer, to have loads of money, and a handsome boyfriend. I laughed at myself when I was done, not sure what to think before shutting off my light and dozing off.

The sun streamed through the large window next to my bed. Wait, I don’t have any windows in my apartment, sitting up in my bed alerted that I was no longer in my small studio apartment. The professionally decorated penthouse I woke up in was spectacular.

“Babe are you awake? You have your book signing today.” An unfamiliar voice called.

I didn’t answer, but began looking around realizing I had woken up in a better version of my life.

“The book!” I unintentionally shouted out.

“Yes your book signing, here I made you waffles.”

I stared in amazement as the most handsome man I hadever seen handed me a plate of freshly pressed waffles. I forgot about the little black book temporarily as I was whisked away by Anthony, my apparently dotting boyfriend, to the book signing of my newly released best selling novel.

“I’m one of the best paid writers in the city?”

“Yes and I’m your best paid assistant. Babe, why are you asking me so many questions?” Anthony put his hand on my forehead.

“Did you get some sort of amnesia while sleeping?” He laughed.

“I guess life just feels too good to be true.” I laughed playfully back, but still I felt unsure about this mysterious new life I had awakened to. I forgot all about the journal, I hadn’t seen it in my transformed apartment next to my bed where I had previously laid it. It was too late though, as we pulled up to the book signing. I spent an exhausting day signing hundreds of books while being asked about myself and my books I didn’t remember writing.

“Oh don’t forget we have drinks tonight with Julia.” Anthony said bringing me dinner from the takeout place next door.

“Who’s Julia?” I asked while scarfing down the first meal I had eaten all day besides the waffles.

“Julia the person who helped you publish all your books…” Anthony answered looking at Sophia uneasily

“Ha yeah, Julia… I’m just pulling your leg.” Sophia tried to disguise her ignorance of her own life.

“Can you cancel that for me? I think I need to go home and lie down.”

“Sure, but you know Julia will be pissed right?”

“Oh yeah good ole Julia, well I’ll take the care back home.”

I tore through every corner of the penthouse searching for the black journal. It had vanished into the abyss. I wasn’t sure what to do or think about the situation I was in. I was living my dream, but the strangeness of everything felt like it would drive me into insanity. I just needed to go back to sleep to find out if this was real. I took a sleeping aid that helped me fade away to sleep.

My sleep was restless. The dreams of hands reaching up trying to grab me from the ground, and the Grandma she appeared.

“That book Sohpia! It took your soul.” She began to sob.

“Oh poor, poor Sophia. The Devil tricked you Sophia. He tricked you!” she shouted as the last part her body turned into dust being blown by wind revealing a skeleton that crawled towards her trying to grab her.

Her body was covered in sweat as she screamed herself awake while her chest heaved up and down.

“Babe are you awake? Your book signing is today.” Anthony called from the kitchen.

“Another one?” I asked hoping it was a joke since the first exhausted me.

“What? No! It’s your first one, aren’t you excited?!” Anthony appeared with the same waffles in the same outfit he wore the day before. It was the same day, it was a time loop. I began to shake violently as a hysterical laugh escaped my mouth. The laugh broke into sobs as I realized what I had done. The book, the cursed little black book. It had trapped me in an eternal hell that I had described as my dream life. I would be stuck as a famous rich writer, living the same day for all eternity. My dreams had turned into a nightmare.