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They want to see me hang.
They want to see me burn.
I can feel my ancestors’ blood roaring as I walked through the old town, only hours before I was run off. I could feel their anger, their sadness for me.
They want me to retaliate, give them exactly what they’ve given to me, given to all of us.
I will find a way.
Once I go down, I will take all of them with me.
I take a deep breath, the darkness emanating from those pages overwhelming. They are thick and leave a residue on my fingers that I feel seep into my blood.
Almost as if she has cursed these pages too.
I turn to the next one, unable to stop.
May 17th, 1967
Tomorrow, I will cause chaos.
Tonight, I grieve for the last time.
They have killed my cousin. Word has spread across this town like a disease of her painfully wicked death.
She caused chaos within the walls of the asylum, which ended in her demise. Murder is what it is, though they will say her hanging was a suicide, I’m sure. But you can only have so much hate in your veins for someone without ending their existence, and that is exactly what this town is trying to do.
They want to see our bloodline end.
I am sad to see her lost; I am angry for her death, though she couldn’t handle the darkness flowing through her veins. She has always been the light, and I have always been the dark.
I have slipped through the cracks, going to the place my mother died, and I could feel her arms hover around me, as if she was awaiting my arrival.
As I stood where she took her last breath, I felt life fill me like never before. We all know what’s coming, even the town does. I can hear the screams as I sleep in the dark caves by the water, beneath the oversized trunks in the woods. No place is safe anymore, and I was lucky to escape them, to come to old Castle Pointe one final time.
My mind is finally straight, and I am ready for what is to come.
I have not much to say. It is quite funny, as I have reached the end of my journal, and it’s almost as if it knew it would be the end of my time, as well.
Until tomorrow.
Rowena.
I turn to the next page, my breath twisted tightly in my chest.
May 18th, 1967
This will be my final entry.
This will be my final night on this earth.
Though I will be far from gone.
I will always watch over this town. My daughter is still here; I can feel her, living, breathing, surviving. I am no longer sad she is gone, because I know she will live on when I cannot.
As I write this, I sit in the middle of the street of Castle Pointe, the full red moon lighting the sky. It feels like daytime, though Castle Pointe hasn’t seen it in weeks.
The ground vibrates beneath me, and I can hear the screams in the distance, the bobbing lights as those on the other side of town come and search for me, as they do every night.
