When I moved into my new house, I hoped for a peaceful life, but it turned into a disaster. From day one, I noticed my neighbors giving me the cold shoulder. I was practically invisible… Everyone literally avoided me as if I were cursed!
The other day, I was watering the flowers in my yard when I saw a little girl fall off her bike. Naturally, I wanted to help her, but before I could reach her, her mother rushed over, screaming, “Are you hurt, Jenny? Did she touch you!?” In an instant, they were gone, and I stood there feeling broken.
In despair, I decided to explore the attic. Maybe the previous residents left some clues? And they were… While rummaging through the mess, I noticed an old leather-bound diary.
The more I read, the more my eyes widened. The owner warned of “strange things” that awaited me. And unfortunately, she was right because my neighbors’ hostility wasn’t just about me being new. There was something far more sinister going on.
The diary, written by a woman named Emily, who lived in the house before me, detailed a series of bizarre and unsettling events. She wrote about how the neighbors would never speak to her, how they seemed to be part of some secret group, and how she felt watched every moment she was outside.
One entry read, “They avoid you because they know something we don’t. I tried to befriend them, but they only warned me to stay out of their business. I found a hidden room in the house with strange symbols. I think it’s related to the old legends of this town.”
Another entry was more alarming: “If you’re reading this, you’re in danger. The last straw for me was when I found my cat dead, with no explanation. I felt like the house itself was warning me. I left this diary to warn the next person. Be careful. Trust no one.”
My heart pounded as I realized the severity of Emily’s warnings. I decided to investigate further. I explored the house meticulously, and in the basement, I found a hidden door behind an old bookshelf. The door led to a small room, and just like Emily described, there were strange symbols carved into the walls.
As I was examining the symbols, I heard a noise from behind. I turned around to see a group of my neighbors standing there, including the mother who had rushed Jenny away from me. They didn’t look hostile, but rather worried.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” one of them said, stepping forward. “We didn’t mean to scare you. We were trying to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“From the curse,” the woman replied. “This house is cursed. Anyone who lives here becomes a target for the spirits that haunt this town. We avoid newcomers to keep them safe, but it seems you’ve already uncovered too much.”
They explained that the town had a dark history. Centuries ago, a witch had been wrongfully executed, and her spirit cursed the land. The symbols in the hidden room were meant to keep the spirits at bay. Every resident knew about the curse, and they had a pact to avoid anyone living in the cursed house to minimize the spread of misfortune.
“We’re sorry for the way we’ve treated you,” the woman said. “We didn’t know how to explain without causing more fear.”
I felt a mix of relief and fear. At least I knew the reason behind the hostility, but now I had to figure out how to protect myself. With the neighbors’ help, we reinforced the symbols and performed rituals to appease the spirits.
Over time, I became part of the community. They taught me the history of the town and how to live peacefully with the spirits. The diary’s warnings had been a blessing in disguise, guiding me to the truth and helping me find my place in this strange, cursed town.