Wednesday, November 9th, 2016

Sid’s POV

June 29th, 1637, Greenville

Dear diary,

I have not been writing a lot lately, for I have been busy. I visited my parents at home after my mother took me there to introduce me to father. I have never felt that honoured before in my life.

To meet with such a great man, and meet his first daughter, Elizabeth. Elizabeth, as soon as we had been introduced, told me we would become best friends. She had always wanted a sister, and the fact we do not share the same mother does not make a difference to her.

She showed me Baywick Woods and told me how father wants to build more cabins alongside the lake to house the families of hunters who travelled far to provide their families with food.

Elizabeth would like for her father to succeed but confined in me they might leave the woods soon. She did not seem too pleased about that.

I still fear for my father’s life and meeting them did not help to ease the feelings inside my stomach that something bad is about to happen. The very fact my father, a once brave and individual person, now wants to leave his home and move away, tells me he has reasons to be concerned about his life too.

By now, three hunters died in horrible accidents, and more people in Baywick’s village are blaming father for their deaths. Elizabeth, mother and I seem to be the only ones who believe his innocence.

But we are the only three living persons who know father wasn’t near the accidents, but in the company of mother.

I asked Elizabeth if she was with them, but she confined in me that she has a cabin of her own, closer to her friends, now that she is eighteen.

And then again, none would believe Elizabeth. None would believe any of us, as we are of wrong descent, or Baywick’s known flesh and blood.

Yet, my dear diary, there is something about Elizabeth that I can’t put to words right now. My body grows restless whenever I’m near her, and mother seems to feel it too.

I will attend dinner with my parents tonight and wonder if Elizabeth is going to accompany us during dinner too. I just hope the nerves in her close surroundings will soon settle, for we are sisters and I think I just feel a bit threatened by her close bond with my parents.

Natasha

I write down the useful information about the entries in a notebook that holds my history homework. I’m not allowed to go to school right now, as I blacked out during Arts class yesterday, and mom came to pick me up to take me home.

By now I know people in school don’t know any better then that I’m still recovering from the supposed attack over a month ago, and that the black outs are caused by stress and trauma.

I hate how everyone now looks at me with pity, and I heard the whispers in the hallways. People wondering why I wasn’t put in a mental facility like Cory, if Cory and I became friends and he lured me into a trap, if Cory and I are friends because we experienced the same – whatever that might be – and all other stupid rumours about what happened to me.

It’s angering me more each time I here the whispers and I have to keep myself from lashing at them for gossiping.

I would really like to just spit the truth in their faces, warn them that any of them could be my first victim if they act like little bitches or assholes to me, and see what happens then.

What would they do once they find out there’s some serious paranormal, super-natural things going on around them, that they are too blinded for to see.

Supernatural might hold some forms of truth. Who knows, maybe the screenplay writer is paranormal himself and this is his way of explaining to people what the hell is going on behind their backs.

* * * * *

Mom sets up the dinner table, just as I enter the living room to get myself a drink. Not that I’m thirsty or hungry, but I try to push down some nutrition’s down my throat in the hopes of gaining some much-needed energy.

“Sid, could you get the cutlery now that you’re in the kitchen anyway?” Mom calls out after me, and I roll my eyes in annoyance for having to help her.

I grab the cutlery nonetheless, throwing it on the table carelessly, getting a weird look from mom in the process.

“What? I’m helping, ain’t I?”

“Yes, you are…” She sounds worried and tired, and I hate how everything is affected and weird and different lately.

I really just want to go back to my regular life, before I ever entered the woods, and never find out about any of this.

But then again, the cycle needed to end anyway, and at least I’m now sure of my faith, while others have to wonder if their kids are going to be next.

I just wish I wouldn’t feel a barrier grow between me and the people I love and care about.

Annika and dad can’t touch me, Davy feels uneasy around me, Liza is scared shitless to be in the same room as I am. I can’t help but to lash out on them whenever they get on my nerves.

* * * * *

“I’m sitting there.” Mom smiles, gesturing for her to sit next to Ellie, which she reluctantly does.

A little to quickly, moving away from the chair next to me.

“Do you all feel it?” I wonder aloud, staring back and forth between Ellie and Lynn. “Is mom really the only one who’s able to come close?”

They share a look with each other, before they both stare at me and slowly nod.

“It’s just this… There’s this…”

“…Energy…” Lynn fills in the blank that Ellie left. “And it’s like it’s pushing us away.”

“It’s not fair…” I mutter, slumping down further. “I’m an Angel too, so why did it possess me in the first place? How was I not affected by that spirit? It wouldn’t come near Annika, so why did it come near me?”

“Because you haven’t developed yet?” Lynn tries with a squeaky voice.

“But I did heal myself!” I cry out, leaning my head onto my hands in desperation. “I healed, quicker then humans would. I have powers already.”

“But they’re not part of you yet. You’ve always had powers, we all did. But you need to learn how to use them before they’ll be part of you. Now… it’s just inside you, waiting to connect.” Ellie explains calmly, sending me a reassuring smile.

“We believe, in Sid’s case, he might have already made a connection, a bit early.” Mom sits down next to me with a tired expression on her face. “It wasn’t powerful when it attached itself to you. It’s feeding off your power and that’s why your father, your sisters, Annika, are now affected by it. Annika first didn’t feel the presence either, right? You had to tell her about the black mass.”

Right, that sounds logical. It only started to become powerful after it took over. Until then, I was the only one who felt it, saw it, knew it was there.

And Angie, but she’s a ghost and I guess she senses things differently anyway.

Speaking of Angie, she’s been jumping in and out of my life erratically, and I had a fight with her about constantly surprising me.

She claims she isn’t doing that, but I swear she keeps popping up when I least expect her to.

“When is dinner ready?”

“Now, but I was hoping your father would be home already.” Mom shortly looks at the empty seat on her left, before she gets up. “I guess we’ll just eat before it goes cold, and your father can eat as soon as he’s home.” She heads into the kitchen, followed by Ellie.

Lynn leans over the table a bit, and smiles at me. “I heard you found Natasha Conrad’s diary, and you found out we’re related to her, and Baywick was her father?” she curiously asks, still smiling.

I nod in confirmation, not feeling at ease to talk about this topic.

“You know, maybe that’s a good thing. I mean, if there’s any decency, anything left good in Baywick’s malicious left-over soul that is haunting you…”

“How is any of this good? It only affects me worse then it did to others.”

“Well, if you ask me, he’s just impatient because the cycle wasn’t finished and we’re keeping him from doing so. But then again, if you’re related to his precious daughter Natasha, don’t you think he wants you to be left unharmed?”

“It killed Hannah Hayes too. She was a relative too.”

“It mostly aimed for offspring of those who killed him. That’s not us. Andyou’re a relative, a strong one. You’re offspring he could’ve been proud of.”

“And he’s harming me. He’s draining my energy. He doesn’t care I’m his blood. He just cares about revenge.”

She silences again, staring at me intently for a while, until mom and Ellie are seated again, and we start dinner; me not eating a single bite.

* * * * *

I’m yet again surrounded by kids, while I’m curled up in the middle of a huge pit in the forest, kids nearing from every side, bloody, muddy, angry at me.

They’re all reaching forwards, inching closer and closer while I’m trying to sink through the ground and disappear, not wanting them to touch me again.

The ground is soaked, muddy, pitch black and stinky. I tried running, but there’s too many kids, and the ground was too slippery to speed up enough and dodge their groping hands, and now they start to pull on my clothes, tearing them, pulling me in all directions, scratching my skin, squeezing my arms and legs, pulling harder.

“Get off!” I cry out in desperation, while blood and the stinky black slurry from their clothes start to drip onto me, the mud becoming heavier to move in, while I feel as if I’m sucked down into it, soon surrounded by darkness as I’m drowning in the mud, still feeling as if I’m pulled from multiple directions until I feel as if my soul is being torn apart.

I grasp in shock, as a burning sensation starts to engulf me entirely, as if I’m melting in their hands and under their touches.

“NO!” I shoot upright, sitting in my bed, soaked in sweat and... mud? And is that blood on my arms?

I stare at it shocked, nauseous and confused as I find my arms full of scratches, covered in blood and traces of a thick black substance.

The room spins around me, and I feel hardly in control of my body, as I start to gag.

“Mom!” I cry out, chocking over the gagging that I can’t control, soon throwing up the same black slurry that I threw up before. That I’ve seen in my nightmares before. I cry out as it burns in my throat, while my body feels sore.

I drop out of bed, wanting to go to the bathroom to throw up more, reaching to open the door as mom does it for me, staring down in shock and fear.

“Mom… help me…”

“Oh… Sid…” she ducks down, engulfing me in a warm hug. “Sweetie… calm down, it is just a dream…”

“It’s not!” I cry out, feeling desperate. “And I want it to be over!”

“You have to stay strong a little longer, honey.” She whispers, rocking me back and forth as if I’m still a baby, comforting me, calming me down. “I love you so, so much… If I could, I would take your place. But I can’t…” She cups my face to force me to look at her, while tears stream down my face. “Promise me you’ll fight it longer. I can’t lose you. I refuse to. But we need time to find a way to help you.”

“I’m so tired… I can’t sleep, I’m confused, I’m scared, mom…” I cry out, burying my face in the crook of her neck. “I don’t want to die.”

“And we won’t just let you die. We’re doing everything we can to help.”

I know they are. My dad even quit his job because he’s constantly meeting with people who might be possible to help me, and he was out of days off.

Everybody spends all their available time into finding any possible way to get this entity out of me without it meaning I would die.

“Go and lay in our bed, I’ll clean up here with dad and check in on you every now and then.” She pecks a kiss on my forehead, helping me up and supporting me – as my whole body is shaking – to get down the stairs and to their room.

Dad is seated on the edge of the bed, staring towards the wall, deep in thought.

“Harold, could you get the beddings off Sid’s bed? I need to wash them.” She grabs my arms to check out the scratches, sending me a worried look. “These need to be cleaned first. You’ll be healed in no time, but I don’t want it to infect.”

I nod, following her to the bathroom. She sits me down on the edge of the bathtub, grabbing the medical kid to clean the scratches from the left-overs of the slurry and the blood, wrapping bandage around it as soon as she’s done.

“Let your blood do the work, but in the mean time, the bandage will prevent it from getting dirty again. I think it’ll be fine in the morning. They’re superficial and your dad always heals over night whenever he has a scratch.” She smiles, grabs my head and pecks another kiss on top of my head. “Go to bed, you need to rest.”

I nod, heading over to their bedroom, tiredly sliding under the duvet on mom’s side of the bed, nuzzling my face into her pillow.

A pinch of camomile-scent from her hair is still there, instantly calming me further down, soon causing me to feel drowsy, sleepy, drifting off to sleep. But every time I’m about to fall asleep, I start to feel scared or something, waking myself up again.

It’s not until half an hour later, when mom lays down in bed with me, pulling me in her arms protectively, that I manage to really fall asleep.

And for the first time in a very long time, I think I didn’t dream about anything at all.