The Lost Journal E-Book

Ashley Lucking

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 233

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

The sequel to Shadows of the Afterlife. It's been a few months since Lyla's life was turned upside-down. Her father was offered the job as mayor, and the family has moved back into John Hampton's mansion. The girl hasn't heard a word from the Moon Cult, nor has she seen a ghost since. It's only when she discovers a journal, dating back to the time John and Nathan Hampton were alive, that her world is disrupted. The author, Charlotte Griffin, was a seventeen-year-old girl who had fled from her spiteful aunt. Against the trials of the 19th century and Whistmere's eerie occurrences, she must fight to follow her heart. Through the diary, Lyla begins to understand there's a different side to the town's legend, including the Moon Cult's tragic origin. Full of mysteries, ghosts and romance.

Leseprobe

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I WANT TO give a big thanks to Laura Hourcade for being my proofreader again. I know it’s been tough with everything that has happened this year…and I couldn’t be more grateful for your help!

Thank you, Théa, Marta, Clémentine, for your constant support and help throughout my writing journey. Thank you to my family and the people that stuck by me in my times of need. And thank you, my readers, for picking up my book. I hope you enjoy it as much and hopefully more than the first one, Shadows of the Afterlife.

To Laura

Table of Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 1

IT’S BEEN A few months since Luke and I uncovered the truth about the town being drugged. I’m on my way to pick up the person I’ve been longing to see for some time. Feeling the warmth on my skin, a smile spreads across my lips. There’s a slight breeze in the air, swaying the grass glades in different directions. When I catch a glimpse of John Hampton’s statue in the dog park, the eternal peace abruptly shatters. Clarke and Gemma Redmond’s trial rushes to mind, as if their undoing were yesterday…

“Silence!” the judge ordered the courtroom to settle down, banging the hammer with such force I shuddered.

The chamber was large and resembled a roman theatre. Each level of seats was occupied by federal people, lawyers, or attorneys. The whole of Whistmere appeared to be there too. Itching to learn the judge’s decision, a thirst for justice coursed through their veins. I, however, was impatiently waiting in the witness box with my older brother. When am I going to be called to the stand?

My gaze travelled down the rows, pausing now and then to stare at the different people. Thank goodness we don’t live in the 19th century. Back then, I’m not sure if criminals were allowed a trial. Did the police exist? I was deep in thought. The residents would have probably had a riot, or worse, killed them. I swallowed hard, struggling to face the Prosecutor.

“Clarke Redmond, Gemma Redmond, please come take your oath.” As my former best friend stepped onto the podium, our eyes locked. You’ll pay for this. I imagined their thoughts as they placed their hand on the bible. Biting on my lip, I could sense a trickle of perspiration rolling down my neck.

“I solemnly affirm that the evidence I give shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” they announced fiercely in unison.

The judge spoke again, “‘We shall begin,’ he signalled the lawyers to prepare. How did they manage to get a hold of a lawyer willing to represent them? They must have paid her a fortune, I assumed, frowning at the defendant’s team. Even to this day, I’m mystified.

Their lawyer stood in a crisp suit, a pair of square glasses gently resting on her nose. She glanced down at her paperwork to review her speech one last time. I couldn’t help but wonder what farfetched things she’d found contradicting the truth. Huffing in what I believed was desperation, the lady walked over to the centre of the court. She began, “First-first of all,” she stammered, body trembling with fear. This is going to be a long day. I buried my face in the palms of my hands.

The trial lasted two weeks. By that point, I was confident practically everyone in the room was begging to go home. Rubbing the side of my forehead, I realised I had a headache from the debating matches.

“Thank you for your patience.” The mic sent an unbearable squeal across the courtroom. “After going over the case with the council, we have made a decision.” The audience went mute as if they were holding their breath. “We find Clarke and Gemma Redmond…guilty!” The crowd immediately sprung up, bustling shrieks of approval ringing in every corner.

“Order in the court! Order in the court!” The judge smashed the hammer down once more.

“Clarke Redmond,” the Prosecutor resumed, “you shall be charged with a five-year prison sentence. As your niece was just an accomplice in this crime, we will send her to the military academy. There, she will perform community service for the next two years. You do not have the right to appeal. Case closed!” they finished, and the police shuffled in to escort the criminals out.

It occurs to me I haven’t seen the two Redmonds since that fateful day, and the Moon Cult hasn’t tried to contact me since. Not that I’m complaining, I feel relieved that everything has gone back to “normal”. Maybe the secret society never existed and was just part of their web of lies.

Luckily, there have been quite a few things keeping me distracted. I spent New Year’s with my boyfriend, wiping the slate clean. It was the most magical holiday I’ve ever had. Even with Dad’s new job as mayor, followed by my family moving back into John Hampton’s house, we never lost touch. I’m glad Owen was able to convince his parents to stay at my house for the summer. I couldn’t bear not seeing him.

At the sound of the train’s cry, my heart freezes in my chest. I know it’s nearly here. I can’t wait to be in his arms again. I sprint the rest of the way, butterflies swarming in my stomach.

The station is as quiet as bees in the winter. I pass a look between the few travellers, mystified about how the economy in this quaint place works.

My nose suddenly catches the smell of black fumes, drawing my attention to the train that’s pulled in. Briskly walking over, I ignore the conductor yelling in the background, “We’ve arrived at Whistmere!”

As soon as Owen recognises me, his face lights up.“Lyla!” He jumps out of the train, running to hug me. “It’s been forever!” The boy’s squeezing me so tight I can barely breathe, though I don’t care. Nothing in the world can ruin this moment.

“How was the trip?” I eventually back away to help him with his luggage. It’s only when I try to lift one of the suitcases that I falter. I didn’t know clothes weighed this much! “Wow! This is heavy! What did you bring with you?”

“Mostly books.” He scratches the back of his neck, cheeks going red with embarrassment. “I remember that you told me Whistmere is a very,” my boyfriend hesitates a second, “quiet place. Since I’m here for the entire summer, I might get bored.” Unable to stop the laughter from bubbling up my throat, I let out an exasperated giggle.

“No, silly! There are plenty of things to do around here.” I turn around, imagining how worried he must have been. “Trust me. You’ll have so much fun you won’t want to return to Dawn Ridge.” I’m beaming with excitement.

“Your the boss,” Owen replies, taking the bags off me before dashing off. “Race you back to your house!” He dashes off. Smiling, I admit the boy’s childish side is perhaps my favourite part about him.

“Wait for me!” A rush of energy takes control of my body, and I leap forwards.

Once we’ve passed the iron gates and entered the terrace, Owen halts in his tracks. Suitcases falling to the floor, I notice a twitch in his fingers. Why is he so tense?

“Owen? Are you alright?” I come up from behind, putting a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. My boyfriend doesn’t reply. Instead, his shoulders stiffen. Rolling my eyes in irritation, I follow his line of sight to see what’s wrong.

The sun lingers behind John Hampton’s manor, casting the front in vast shadows. I rub my eyes, trying to adjust to the lack of lighting. Since Dad became the mayor, he decided to renovate the manor, wanting it to appear more historic. I jerk my head up at the black spikes lining the roof. The house resembles a fortress from the medieval ages. Accompanying the timber framed walls, stone pillars decorate the yard.

I suck in my breath, coming to terms with the reason why Owen is speechless. This is where we broke up…I feel a melancholy prick as I travel down the river of time. Things have changed so fast.

“Lyla?” Owen whispers, and I strain my ear to hear the rest of the sentence. “Why are they here?” Struck by astonishment, I blink twice. It doesn’t take me long to make out two figures standing below the gutted roof. Eleanor? Miles? I exhale with relief and curiosity. At least he didn’t think about us breaking up. Gulping, I know my boyfriend isn’t on good terms with the couple. Even a year after the fiasco at the festival of the dead, not all is forgiven.

On the other hand, I have become good friends with Eleanor and Miles. Shortly after Clarke and Gemma Redmond were sent away, we sorted out our differences. Sometimes we hang out at the coffee shop in town or by the pond next to the weeping willow.

Before making our way over to greet them, I shoot a pleading glance at Owen. Please try to get along. I’ve had enough drama to last me a lifetime. He nods slightly to say he got the message. Arms linking together, we march forwards.

CHAPTER 2

“LYLA!” MILES EXCLAIMS cheerfully, the distance between us shortening. “How are you?”

“Good. What are you doing down here?” I reply and wave at Eleanor, yet she doesn’t notice me; the girl is on the phone, presumably trying to get a taxi back into town. Who knows how long she’s been away from civilisation? I joke internally, glad some things never change. You can take the privilege of being the mayor’s daughter away, but you can’t take her pride and dignity with it.

Miles Hampton coughs ironically, “Sorry about her. She’s been a little preoccupied lately…We came by to see if you were free.” The boy taps his girlfriend’s shoulder, a sign they have company. Eleanor swats him away before hanging up.

Sliding the phone back in her pocket, she spins to face me with a wide grin. “I feel like it’s been months since I last saw you!” Is she being sarcastic?

“We just hung out a few days ago…” I scratch the back of my neck. Did she get stuck on the moon? “Anyway, where did you want to hang out?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Well,” Eleanor begins, “We were wonder-” She abruptly stops mid-phrase, mouth hanging wide open. “Owen Lyons? Is that you?” My stomach drops. Did she not notice him before? Laughing nervously, I elbow my boyfriend to keep his end of the bargain.

“Ow-yes, it’s me.” He crosses his arms, and the rest of us fall silent. The tension between us is so thick I could almost slice through it with a knife. Rocking back on my heels, I eventually break the awkwardness.

“Did I not mention Owen and I got back together at New Years? He has come to stay in Whistmere for the summer. I know you three haven’t spoken since, well,” I hesitate, carefully choosing my words. “a while…But I’m certain we can get along if we tried.” Continuing to study each other with disgust, desperation creeps into my voice. “Please?”

“Well,” Eleanor glances at her wrist in frustration. “Look at the time! It was nice catching up, but I just remembered I have an appointment at the nail salon in half an hour.” She sidesteps my question, and I’m left confused. She isn’t even wearing a watch!

“Oh, what a shame!” Owen’s sighs loudly. “I was looking forward to spending the day with you!”

“Hey!” Miles stands his ground, scowling menacingly. “Don’t forget your place. You’ll always be an outsider and-” Eleanor yanks him by the ear before anything harsh comes out.

“We’ll hang out another time!” The girl finishes with a clipped tone. It’s only now that I realise there isn’t just anger, yet also fear in her eyes. What is going on today? Before I can utter another word, the two storm off in the other direction.

“Good riddance,” Owen mumbles to himself, hauling his suitcases inside the house. I shrug in disbelief. How hard is it to move past our mistakes? Then again, it did take me half a year to confess my strange behaviour. Who am I to judge? With the growing heat outside, I think I’m dehydrated. I slip inside the mansion, seeking to rest my mind.

A little while later, I find myself washing the dishes in the kitchen. Owen is upstairs in my brother’s room, unpacking his things. I can’t believe Mum wouldn’t allow him to use one of the guest’s rooms. “Imagine the amount of cleaning I have to do when he’s gone. He can share a room with Luke.” I mimic her aloud as I tie an apron around my neck. Isn’t it Luke’s week to do the house chores? I think with a weary sigh.

Nevertheless, I’m too depleted to debate at this hour of the evening. It would take longer to prove my point than to clean. I shrug, reminding myself to be positive.

Opening the tap to rinse the platters, a wave of relief washes over me. The faint patters of water dripping onto the plates, followed by the water swirling around the sink, is somewhat mesmerising. As the cold surges around my hands, I can sense my worries melting away.

I’m about to set the mugs aside on a drying rack when Dad strides into the room. I watch him drop a stack of papers on the table, disrupting the daze-like environment.

“Dad!” I moan, shoving my apron back in the cupboard. “Why did you do that?”

“Sorry, what dear?” He barely looks at me, though I don’t blame him. Ever since he became mayor, he’s been buried in paperwork: filling out forms, attending meetings and events. Sometimes I struggle to understand how he copes with the stress. I guess the perks of being well respected are enough?

“Never mind.” I give a weak smile, pushing the papers aside to see my father’s face. A pair of round spectacles rest gently on his nose. “I’ll be upstairs in Luke’s room. Don’t stay up too late. You’re supposed to be on vacation.”

“That’s the thing.” Dad gestures at the “organised mess”. “Considering the state in which the former mayor left the town in, there’s so much to do,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow!” I call over my shoulder and climb the stairs, eager to spend time with Owen this summer. The memories we’re going to make. I skip around the house until I reach my older brother’s room. Raising my fist, I knock three times on the door.

“Come in!” Owen yells, and I turn the handle. It’s only when I enter that I see what a mess this place is: clothes are piled everywhere! How does he get anything done?

“Lyla!” My boyfriend’s head peeks out from behind the boxes.

“Are you done unpacking yet?” I say, giving him a hand to stand up.

“Well.” He glimpses at Luke slouching on the bed, typing away at his computer. “I’m almost done, but I can take a break if you want?” Owen stares at me expectantly, and a malicious smile spreads onto my lips.

“Luke? Do you want to play Monopoly with us?” I jump on the bed, causing the robots to topple over.

“Careful, Lyla!” He finally meets my gaze, carefully closing the Mac computer. “What do you want?”

“Can you take a break?” I pout, trying to convince him to leave the silver screen behind.

“But I have work to do…This is my last summer before I’m off to university.”

“I know, I know.” I roll my eyes. Lately, this has been his excuse to get away with everything. “Can at you least consider it?” I’m now on my knees, begging like a puppy.

“Fine, I’ll come down in a bit,” Luke sighs in defeat, crawling on the floor to unplug some of his devices. Proud of my accomplishment, I give my boyfriend a thumbs up.

I direct my attention to the clock on the wall; the handles are pointing to nine. Times flies quickly. I mutter to myself, struggling to hold back a yawn as I return to the board game. If only I didn’t buy Old Kent Road.

“What do you say we call it a night? You seem tired.” Owen rolls the dice, moving the boat to King’s Cross station.

“Yeah. It’s been a surprising and eventful day,” I say, vision slowly going blurry. “I’m sorry about Eleanor and Miles’s unfriendly attitude. I’m sure they’ll come around.”

“I doubt it,” he huffs, tidying the houses back inside the box. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. The only thing I want this holiday is to be with you.” Owen brushes a lock of hair from my face, and I can’t help but look away.“So, what’s first on our summer-fun list?”

“Breakfast at the coffee shop tomorrow?” I ask.

“Perfect.” He leans in to kiss my cheek, causing a warm sensation to erupt in my chest.

“Um, Lyla?” My boyfriend’s sudden change in mood takes me by surprise. Staring into his soul with uncertainty, I encourage him to go on. “Have you, uh,” he stumbles over his words. “Have you seen another, you know? Has John Hampton made an apparition?”

I realise I haven’t crossed paths with the “famous” founder of Whistmere in ages. When did the whispers in the night stop? Shifting uncomfortably on the bed, I try to piece the puzzle together. Maybe he only wanted me to save the town from the Ketamine drug and now rests in peace, at ease knowing everyone is safe.

“Lyla? Are you there?” My boyfriend pulls me back to earth, and I shake my head.

“Yes, no, I haven’t seen any more ghosts. It’s ancient history.” I gulp. Hopefully, it will stay that way…

CHAPTER 3

THERE IS AN overwhelming darkness surrounding me. Eyes desperately trying to blink away the haze, I’m unable to find my bearings. Where am I, and how did I get here?

“Hello?” I call out into the void and wait for an echo, yet my voice is an indistinct muffle. My heart starts to hammer in my chest, causing me to fall to my knees. I can’t help but feel the world is spinning around me. I place a hand above my rib cage, hoping this nightmare will end. The moment I hear a rough voice, I snap back. “Who’s there?” Anxiousness creeps into my throat.

“Lyla…” Someone replies in a choke, and I wonder if it’s my imagination. Struggling to stand upright, I can sense a strange magnetic pulse pulling me to the ground. “It’s time to wake up,” the person speaks again, and I realise who it is.

“John Hampton?” I let out a frightened cry, clenching my fists. “What do you want? Why am I here? Why are you still haunting me?” The questions fall off my tongue as fast as my mind could form them. However, the dead aren’t the ones who reach out to be interrogated.

“It’s time to wake up,” he trails off before I have the chance to utter another word. Thoughts racing through my head, I refuse to accept that the ghost isn’t done with me. It’s all in the past. I remind myself bitterly. It’s time to move on with your life…

I suddenly gasp and bolt upright. Breathing heavily, I try to force myself to think straight.

It doesn’t take me long to understand I’m in my room. What was that? I rub my forehead and kick off my sheets. When the cold air hits the perspiration rolling down my neck, I shiver. “It must have been a dream,” I say internally, blocking out the faint murmurs circling the room. I cast a glance at the light coming from the window. I should have closed the curtains…Yawning, I slowly crawl out of bed to shut them.

The faint patter of rain against the see-through glass is somewhat calming. I lift the window to get a breath of fresh air, allowing a drizzle of rain to land on my nose. It’s only when I open my eyes again that I notice an envelope on the window sill. Who left that there? I grab the mysterious object in one swift movement, then shut the deathly air out.

My gaze remains glued to the envelope as I tiptoe to switch the light on. There appears to be a purple wax seal on the back, resembling the shape of the moon. How long has this been outside for? I run my fingers along the creased edges, curious, before gingerly opening it.

The paper is soft to the touch, though the blue ink is slightly smudged. My eyes travel down the strong lines and heavy punctuation marks without taking the time to understand the message. I immediately pause at the sight of a map. Frowning at the red X, I shake my head and decide to read.

Dear Lyla,

We apologise for reaching out to you this late…One of our own has recently brought something urgent to us. Wanting to discuss the matter with you in person, your presence tonight is mandatory. We have entrusted you with a map of our meeting location. Follow the trail into the woods, then beyond the river bank. Come alone. We await your arrival.

The Moon Cult

P.S The information in this letter is highly confidential.

Index tapping the words in bold at the end, I’m left speechless. There’s a stiffening tension in my shoulders. I know there’s a part of me that wants to learn the truth, alongside the Moon Cult’s purpose. It has been lurking at the back of my mind…I throw a look at the clock on the wall. It’s eleven o’clock. Maybe I could make it. Before I’m about to make any harsh decisions, I give a weary sigh. Your life has just gone back to normal. Are you willing to throw it all away for another wild goose chase? The rational part of my brain kicks in, igniting a fire within me. But that’s just it! No one in town is aware of their existence apart from its members.

I peek out the window. Judging by the black clouds gathering across the sky, growling over Whistmere, I’m confident a storm is brewing. I pace up and down the floor, worrying what my next move should be. I suppose I could tell the Moon Cult I don’t want any part in their “schemes”. If I leave now, I’ll be back before sunrise. No one will know I was gone.

I hurry to throw on a lightweight jacket, grab an umbrella, and glide down the stairs to the front. By the time I’m second-guessing if someone heard my footsteps, I’ve already slipped outside.

The path at my feet is slowly fading away as I continue to wander into the unknown. Somewhere in this forest are the answer I need. I blow on my hands, though the warmth from my breath is long gone.

Densely packed trees loom high above, obscuring my view of the sky. Still, there’s just enough moonlight to make out my whereabouts. I squint at the map for the tenth time, assuring myself I’m heading in the right direction. I walk to the right, following each step as instructed. There is an uncanny sensation in my gut, telling me someone is watching me from afar. I wish the feeling didn’t feel like second nature. I guess after spending more than a year in Whistmere, you become used to it.

The deeper I go into the forest, the more the temperature drops. Now and then, I freeze, listening to my survival instincts for a sign of life. The Moon Cult has to be close. I hold my hand out, seeking comfort, but the overwhelming haze doesn’t disappear. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone alone? And why didn’t I bring a phone? At this time of night, who knows what creatures will be out…I throw an anxious glance over my shoulder, but my line of sight stops at less than five meters from me. The mist has thickened into a dense fog, wreathing the trees. I should have asked Luke to come with me, and perhaps Owen? I suck in my breath, recalling the promise I made not to shut my boyfriend out. Still, I want is to keep him far away from this dangerous world. It’s too late to turn back now…I shrug, my grip tightening around the umbrella. I can’t help but regret thinking it was a good idea to enter the woods alone. The numbing cold in my fingers is a painful reminder that I should have worn gloves too. I trudge on, the sound of raindrops filling the silence.

The rain has stopped. What a relief! I think, realising the cold was starting to seep into my bones. My grip loosens on the umbrella. Glad I can put this into retirement, I joke internally, striving to lift my spirits. It’s only when I hear the sound of rushing water nearby that I know I’m close.

Almost systematically, I’m drawn in that direction. There’s a certain anticipation building in my stomach, one powerful enough to propel me forwards if need be. Arriving at the edge of the river’s cliff, my eyes fall downwards. The fog swallows the hill’s silhouette up whole, turning its colour into a stony grey. Beyond the river bank...My nose suddenly catches the scent of smoke swirling in the air. I spin around, only to spot a light source. There! I desperately search for a way to get across. In only a matter of moments, the solution reveals itself.

Holding my breath, I steer down a narrow tree trunk and try not to slip. Stay calm, and you won’t lose your balance. I tell myself. I want to shut my eyes, though it wouldn’t be any help. The closer I grow to the warm flicker, the more I can feel its heat. Once I reach the campsite, my enthusiasm sinks.

Ten figures are moving about the crackling fumes, continuing to add wood to the pile. I steadily emerge from the trees. Faced with the Moon Cult, I can’t help but gulp as they move to stand in line. If I hadn’t already seen a ghost, I would already be running for the hills. I attempt to speak up, “I’m Lyla Chambers, and I,” I stutter, palms going clammy. “I’ve come as you requested.”

CHAPTER 4

ONE OF THE members removes their mask, and my stomach drops. She was the one who first spoke to me about the Moon Cult!