The curse of the book

In the library I could not have found something as interesting as a book that was hidden at the back without even a title. I picked it up and opened the pages, to my bemusing the scrap of paper we’re having words mixed with others. It was so hard to read that it felt useless.

So I took it home and tried to figure out what to do with it. To my surprise it made the two weeks of my life ten times more difficult.

Starting from at night, when my dreams were all about the evens inside the little black book I found. I could barely sleep without a dream. But the dreams were always negative. It was always about a boy who tried all sorts of spells to kill the queen. One time it was about something else, but I could have guessed that it didn’t have much to do with it.

Things at home are starting to become bizzare. Mum threw up in the middle of our feast with my friend. My neighbor tripped over the petals and according to his description, he felt it was a sledge. But the problem was, we could not figure out where the sledge came from. The only thing we can say about it, was that he had an allusion.

The next thing which happened throughout this week, was my temper swings. I could no longer control what my thoughts were about anymore, I just felt like my emotions are unable to be conquered, instead they might be controlling me.

My sister Argentine’s depression was getting worse, she could no longer leave her room and go to school like a normal teenage student. She told my mother that school makes her sick. Yet that might not be the case.

I am supposing that the book does have some sort of affect on our family’s daily behaviour. Including my mood swings and my sister. Last night I opened the small black book, the first thing I saw was blank spaces.

The words have disappeared!!