Status: Hiatus


The Journal

Once I knocked on the door of the cabin Jasper disappeared as soon as Danielle opened the cabin doors.

“Uhm, hello.” I mumbled, looking down, a bit nervous. “Are you Danielle Whitney?”

“No, I’m Cassandra Whitney, Danielle Whitney’s daughter. What can I do for you?” A woman in her mid 40’s asked with a slight smile on her face.

“Um…” I hesitated, not knowing what to say. I looked around, hoping for Jasper to pop up in midair knowing the right thing to say. I looked at anything but Cassandra Whitney. I looked at the old rotting away door, with white chipped paint. The old fashioned front porch and swing, which I so desperately wanted to swing on.

I looked at the ground, where my feet were fiddling on the yellow green grass. Finally I set my eyes upon Cassandra. She had a question mark written all over her expression. Finally Jasper showed up, appearing right behind Cassandra.

I let out a sigh of relief. I repeated word for word what Jasper was saying, “Oh I’m Carly Miller, I live in the old Whitney house a couple miles down the road. I was wondering if I could speak to Danielle?”

“Oh, of course,” She said opening the door wider to let me in. “I was just going to go out for some errands. I hope you don’t mind. It’ll only be thirty minutes or so.” Cassandra said taking her bag and other items with her.

I didn’t say anything, although she looked at me as if I were deaf.

“Cant you say anything without me telling you what to say?” Jasper asked in a sigh.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, “Of course I don’t mind.” I put on a false smile. Cassandra smiled back and showed me the way to her mothers room. Then once she left Jasper reappeared right next to me.

“Don’t screw this up. Say exactly as I say.” He told me as he walked into Danielle’s room.

“I thought you said I cant think for myself…” I muttered. And now he wants me to say exactly as he says. Make up your mind Jasper.

I walked into the room of Danielle Whitney and looked her in the eye. I smiled at her. She looked straight past me. With a roll of my eyes I looked around the room once again.

There was very little in the room. Though not much could fit into it.

In the corner next to the window was a nicely arranged bed with plain white sheets and a nicely arranged quilt. Next to the bed was a small night stand with a white lamp and a large bible. The wall next to the bed was a wood dresser. The only other thing in the room was a small book shelf and a rocking chair with sewing supplies next to it.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Introduce your self.” Jasper urged, shaking his head, then sitting on the bed.

“Uh, hello I’m Carly Miller. I just moved into the Whitney house a couple weeks ago.” I say, putting my hand in front myself, for a handshake.

Danielle didn’t accept the handshake. “I know who you are. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Show her the diary.” Jasper stated. I shot him a look that could kill, if he already weren’t dead. There was no diary that I was aware of. “Oh right, reach into your jacket pocket.” I hesitated before reaching my hand into my pocket. Sure enough there was small black journal in my hoodie pocket.

I didn’t remember putting this in there. I didn’t feel him put anything in my pockets. I thought my hands were in my pockets the whole time. I suddenly regret wearing my I love cats hoodie. I don’t love cats much anymore.

“Um, I think this belongs to you.” I said to Danielle, giving her to journal. I watched as she opened it. Sure enough, the first page said, ‘belongs to Danielle Whitney’, in small cursive writing.

Danielle looked at the journal in awe. “Where did you find this?” She asked.

“In the attic.” I repeated what Jasper had said.

Danielle didn’t pay attention to a word I had said. She drifted away into the journal into her hands and started to silently read aloud.


“My name is Danielle Walker. As of today I am seventeen years old. Today is August twenty-fifth, 1940. I start to write this journal because this is the day that marks the beginning of the end of my life.

I am in a family of six. Mother, Father, Amelia, Joseph, Daniel, and my self. Father owns a small tailoring company while mother stays home and does house chores. Joseph is only a five year old whom can barely read or write. Daniel is eighteen. He should be going off to a collage soon somewhere in New York. Although he has to stay here in Maine to help father make ends meet.

Amelia is the one I admire the most. The one I want to be just like when I’m a woman. Amelia is nineteen years old. Very close to Daniels eighteen. Amelia is the most special out of all the Walker children. Everyone agrees. Its no contest. Amelia is the sweetest, Amelia is the kindest, Amelia is the prettiest, Amelia is everything.

Sometimes I loathe Amelia. At the same moment I wish she was dead in that one sweetly scented room of hers, I wish I was her. I want to step into her shoes and be her. I wanted that long wavy hair that past my bust. I wanted the doe like eyes to get compliments from all the gentlemen. I wanted her.

All of the Walker children look alike. We all have dark brown silky hair. Large brown eyes and full lips with rosy cheeks. None of us were ugly or decent looking. We were all beautiful. Amelia was just special. With her extra rosy cheeks, and extra large eyes, and shiny hair.

I am a spitting image of Amelia when she was a seventeen year old. The only thing that separates us is our personalities. Amelia is a sweet kind hearted person. Where as I am a blunt individual. Mother often calls my personality as if I were a cat. Sometimes I wanted to loved and cuddled, where other times I wanted nothing to do with the entire world.

Today is the day Amelia is getting engaged to Jasper Whitney. I should be happy for my sister. Nothing but happy and glad.

I’m not. I’m jealous.

This changed my whole perspective. I wanted to be Amelia. Now I want her dead. Jasper was supposed to be mine. She knew that. Although, what Amelia wants, Amelia gets. Amelia never likes what she has. She’s going to throw him away like he was a used tissue. I would treat him like he was my king and he would treat me as I was his queen. If I had it my way Jasper and I would be engaged and whisper sweet nothings to each other till we each fell asleep.

Jasper is twenty. A handsome young boy. He had the dark curly hair I wanted to run my fingers through. The dark green moss eyes that anyone could get lost into. I love Jasper. But I love him from afar.

The Whitney family… Is dangerous. Despite all the dangers the Whitney’s are, Jasper is the one that belongs in my heart for all eternity.

The Whitney’s are a family of four. Bertha, George, Kimberly, and Jasper. They all had curly brown hair with moss green eyes of entrancing. It was Bertha who had the cold lifeless eyes that screamed danger.

Since the war things have become quite scandalous. Flappers have emerged, which angers Bertha. The short cut hair, the red lips and dresses, the heels and sparkly clothing, smoking.

Bertha would invite the girls and gentlemen over, pretending to be friends. Then once they’ve become closer she would bring them to the cellar to kill them. Damage them for life. Sometimes she let them live, other times she didn’t. Kimberly and Jasper would help lure in the younger ones. They thought it was Holy. They thought it was Gods work to destroy the lost who do bad.

It wasn’t Gods work. It was the Devil working in disguise. Bertha would never be the woman to have God talk to her. Even in such a manner. If it were my way Jasper and I would elope and run away to California to find gold and riches.

No one suspected that Bertha ever committed these murders or beatings. They were instructed not to say a thing. Lies were planned to have people lean the other way, for Bertha not to be suspected. Never the less, some people suspected it was her. Some people did.

Amelia and mother had a plan to bring down the Whitney’s. I had a different plan. A deep dark plan. A plan no one would know about. Only I. To my hoping it’ll work out perfectly. Amelia will be dead and The whole Whitney family, a part from Jasper, would go down with her. Then if this worked out wrong, terribly and horribly wrong. They were all going down with me. One way or another.
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