Chapter 10

In all honesty, if Selene’s dream of becoming an actress hadn’t worked out, she could have definitely become a writer.

Whenever I found time, I tried to read a few pages of her diary but school and participating at the theater often came in between. But to be honest, no matter how many pages I read, it felt like the diary wouldn’t end. Not that I was complaining that it was boring. It wasn´t. Selene had an interesting life full of amazing events that nearly occurred daily. The problem is, that I am running out of time, in a way. The ghost of Selene haunts me in such strange ways, that I can’t quite figure out if she was the type of ghost to kill me if I failed.

She definitely knows how to put me on edge. I woke up today, not by the sound of my soothing, bird-singing alarm, but by a vase filled with flowers, falling down from my table. There was no way it fell down by itself because it stood in the middle of it. That made me so angry, that I started to cuss her out. In my head. She is an angry ghost after all.

So first thing first in the morning I start to read the diary as fast as I can, but still in a way, in which I would remember every possible detail of the story.

But after three hours, I notice my focus shifting, and so I put it down and stretch a little. A light knock at the door makes me flinch, and I quickly put away the diary behind my other pile of books that is towering on my table. The head of my mom appears in the small gap she opened, and she starts smiling when she sees me. “You always have your cameras with you, don’t you?”, she notices and I follow her eyes to the Polaroid camera in front of me.

“You could say that, yeah. I just like to take shots of everything. That way when I have dementia when I’m older, I still have memories in some form.”

“You remind me of your grandpa.”

“Because he did get dementia, and you fear, I will too?”

“No, silly. Because he also never went anywhere without his camera. This Polaroid camera specifically. I’m sure there are still a few photo albums stored in Grandma’s attic. Maybe you can check it out sometime.”

She sighs while leaning at the door frame, her eyes sparking with nostalgia. “He always joked about ghosts appearing in his photos, saying they were haunting them. He had a weird sense of humor.” I sit up straight, staring at my mom in disbelief before looking down at the Polaroid camera. My mom seems to notice my look because she starts laughing. ” Sweetie, don’t be so gullible. You know Grandpa started to act a little crazy when he turned old. Anyway, I’ll start cooking dinner in a few minutes, it’s probably going to be ready in an hour.”

She closes the door with a light thud and I let the air out of my lungs, feeling my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I have to relax, maybe drink a cup of calming tea. Maybe five. My plan gets interrupted when a message appears on my phone.

A video sent by someone titled Unknown.