《Find the Forgotten: The Mystery of Morrigan Halloway》 Alone ¡°Crickets chirped tales of long-lost discoveries, forgotten moments as vast as the stars. In the stillness of midnight, I wondered if the moon remembered, or if even the cosmos itself could forget.¡± The sun poured in on my face as I turned the last page of my Detective Penny book. I took a deep breath and sighed. Another great mystery. Some things, some people, once forgotten, could never be remembered. I had to talk to someone about this. I set the book on the pale wood dresser beside my bed and stretched. The plants that circled my room seemed to stretch with me as they reached toward the sun. I cupped a pothos leaf and smiled, then it faded. Even these wouldn¡¯t last forever. I stepped downstairs, lightly running my hand across the smooth chestnut banister. ¡°Mom,¡± I called out. ¡°Hm?¡± Mom leaned around the wall separating the living room. She was sitting on the couch with her legs curled up beside her, and she pulled away from her book. She always read those adult mystery thrillers. I wasn¡¯t allowed to read them. ¡°Mom, I just finished the Penny book where she goes to the observatory.¡± ¡°Oh, nice,¡± Mom smiled. ¡°Did she solve the mystery again?¡± I chuckled, ¡°Of course, she always does. But it was¡­kinda creepy. The way things can be forgotten.¡± Mom¡¯s brows pulled together. ¡°Like car keys?¡± I laughed, ¡°No! Like¡­¡± my lips tightened, ¡°like discoveries and people,¡± I mumbled. ¡°Oof, that is creepy.¡± ¡°It¡¯s almost like it doesn¡¯t even matter what we do because it could all be erased someday.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s not true.¡± She cocked her head and her wavy, brown hair clumped on her shoulder. ¡°It all makes a difference, even if we don¡¯t realize it. There¡¯s¡­ripple effects, ya know?¡± I nodded. Maybe I was being dramatic. Mom smiled again, and her eyes scrunched up. ¡°What are you doing now?¡± she asked as I stepped into the living room. It was so quiet. Mom couldn¡¯t read with that chunky TV on. It sat in the corner on a small, square table beside the fireplace, since we didn¡¯t use it often. And we only had like five VHS tapes. ¡°Mmm¡­I don¡¯t know. Wait for the next Penny book, I guess.¡± I plopped on my back next to her on the couch. ¡°Oh, come on. Why don¡¯t you go read one of your other books?¡± ¡°I read them all already.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you have a favorite one to re-read?¡± ¡°No, because I don¡¯t want to get tired of it.¡± I sat up and peeled the white curtain back on the window behind the couch. ¡°Remember what happened with The Westing Game? Now I can¡¯t even think about reading it anymore.¡± ¡°The puzzle one?¡± I nodded, staring at the Sugar Maple¡¯s colored leaves scattered across the street. ¡°What about your mysteries? Anything weird going on in the neighborhood?¡± She smiled. I scrunched my lips and shook my head, glancing toward the houses across the road. I used to spy on the neighbors to see if they had any super family secrets or ancient trinkets hidden in their backyards. It was fun, but Mrs. Faulkner caught me and said I was too old for that, so I stopped. It was silent for a second as Mom held her thumb in her book and stared at the floor. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll let you read.¡± I let the curtain drop and heaved myself off the couch. Mom reached toward my arm, but I was too far. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you don¡¯t bother me.¡± She let her hand fall to the earthy-striped couch. ¡°I just wish I knew someone else who read Penny books.¡± Mom¡¯s face scrunched up. ¡°I know. What about the names on the circulation record at the library?¡± ¡°No, they¡¯re all in different classes or something. I didn¡¯t recognize any of them.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find someone. Ask Mrs. Willows tomorrow if she can do some kind of book club or something for the mysteries.¡± I smiled, a rush running through me. ¡°That would be so fun!¡± Mom laughed. ¡°Good. I hope it goes well,¡± she called as I clomped back upstairs.
*** In the school cafeteria, I scarfed my lunch down to get to the library before the bell rang. Mrs. Willows sat behind her desk, her lips moving as she pointed at barcodes on the books. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Hey, Mrs. Willows.¡± I waved. Her long, silver waves bounced as she looked up and smiled. She raised an eyebrow behind her multi-colored glasses, ¡°I hope you ate lunch. You¡¯re early.¡± ¡°Yeah, it was fine.¡± I leaned against the counter. ¡°I came to ask you about maybe starting a mystery book club here in the library?¡± ¡°Um.¡± She shook her head, the strands of beads hanging from her glasses clinked. ¡°I don¡¯t know right now, there¡¯s¡­kind of a problem.¡± She let out a nervous chuckle. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± She sighed. ¡°There was a trolley filled with twenty-five books for Mr. Weston¡¯s class and now the trolley¡ªand the books¡ªare gone. I have a bunch of work to do and I still have to find those books. I¡¯m sorry, Emily.¡± I nodded. ¡°Well, maybe someone just moved the trolley somewhere else?¡± ¡°I doubt it. I¡¯ve already checked the library, but I can¡¯t really leave right now.¡± She lifted a stack of books and swept around the counter and down an aisle. After sliding a few into their places, she lifted her glasses. It was lunch break, so I didn¡¯t have time to help her find the books, but if I could take that weight off her, maybe she could help me start a club. ¡°Might someone have taken them to the classroom for you?¡± ¡°I wondered the same,¡± she looked over her glasses at me, ¡°and I already called Mr. Weston. He said the books never arrived.¡± ¡°Can I help you find them?¡± ¡°That¡¯s sweet of you, Emily, but you really don¡¯t have to, and¡­I just can¡¯t guarantee I can get that club going for you, dear.¡± She pursed her lips and gave me a sympathetic look. ¡°It¡¯s okay, I¡¯ve got time before the bell.¡± ¡°Well¡­If you insist. It would be a big help and a load off my shoulders.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can.¡± I turned and took a few steps away, but I didn¡¯t know where I was going. Books and trolleys didn¡¯t just disappear. Where would Detective Penny start? I pressed through the library doors. The hallway was quiet and it felt strange as I passed each empty classroom. After about ten minutes of peeping through the doors for a trolley, I noticed a strange streak on the ground around a corner. Like those rubber streaks left behind by sneakers. Except there were two parallel marks, like the book trolley. Was someone racing this thing around the corner? I checked a few classrooms in that direction and found nothing. I thought for a moment then took out my journal and wrote one more option. Someone took them, but why? Who would want that many copies of the same book? Tapping my pen against my journal, my eye caught on something unusual. This potted corn plant was always facing the same direction, but today it looked almost completely different. Maybe it was just bumped, but I wasn¡¯t convinced. I twisted it back the way it usually looked, and a book inside the leaves caught my eye. I reached in and pulled out one of the copies of the missing books. Was someone playing a prank? And why would they prank on Mrs. Willows? I walked back to the library, clutching the book to my chest. Mrs. Willows sped around, tucking books in their places. ¡°I found this one in the corn plant down the hallway.¡± I handed Mrs. Willows the book. She shook her head and her lips went thin. ¡°I can help you look for the rest.¡± ¡°No, you have class soon. I¡¯ll find the rest before I go home. But I know what you can do. Better than I could.¡± A rush ran through me. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Find out who did it.¡± She winked. Perfect.
*** I would keep an eye out for the culprit throughout the day when we switched between classes. I spent a little more time in the hallway, rather than rushing straight to class. Kids walked in pairs or groups, chatting and laughing. As I leaned against the wall near the library, cradling the books for my next class, there were two boys I recognized but never spoke to. A red-headed boy with curls, and a short boy with a buzzed cut. He reached into a small alcove in the white brick wall. There was a painting in there, but they had no reason to touch it. They must have been hiding another book. I pressed off the wall and speed-walked over, the chunky heel of my boots thumping down the empty hallway. They turned and shooed each other away as I got closer. ¡°What¡¯s¡­going on?¡± I asked. ¡°Nothing. Just hanging out.¡± He hid something under his shirt while they snickered and turned away. ¡°Mrs. Willows knows you¡¯re hiding books.¡± The redhead turned back, ¡°Yeah,¡± He flung his arm up, ¡°because you told on us, like a brat.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± The other boy said, ¡°why do you always have to go around snooping? It¡¯s stupid. That¡¯s why no one likes you. Because you tell on everyone.¡± My skin grew hot. ¡°I didn¡¯t tell on you.¡± ¡°Well don¡¯t, or we¡¯ll tell everyone to stay away from you because you¡¯re gonna tell on them for everything.¡± The redhead said with venom in his words. I shook my head. I didn¡¯t want to tell on people, but I couldn¡¯t help it if they were doing stupid things. But I also didn¡¯t want to make it harder on myself to make friends. I sighed and stared at the tiny scuffs on my boots. ¡°Tell me where the books are and I won¡¯t tell her it was you,¡± I mumbled. ¡°Yeah right,¡± he laughed. ¡°And I¡¯m keeping this one,¡± he held up the book for me to see, then hooked it under his arm. ¡°Good luck finding the rest.¡± They laughed. I almost started crying when Mrs. Willows stormed around the corner. ¡°Hi, Kurt. Jeff.¡± She smiled and nodded once, then saw the book under his arm. ¡°What¡¯s that? Were you boys hiding books?¡± They must have done something that gave it away because she said, ¡°What were you boys thinking?¡± and crossed her arms. ¡°We¡¯re sorry.¡± They said at the same time. ¡°No, I asked what you were thinking.¡± The short one grunted and gave me an ugly look past Mrs. Willows. Then he looked back at her. ¡°These school books are boring and we didn¡¯t want to be forced to read another one. So we thought we¡¯d hide them.¡± ¡°Well, when class is over, you two will stay after school and bring the rest¡ªand the trolley¡ªback to me. You won¡¯t leave until you¡¯ve gathered them all. And I¡¯m calling your parents because you and I both know you won¡¯t be handing them a letter.¡± She snatched the book from under his arm and stood tall as she walked back to the library, her flats silent. ¡°Aw, come on!¡± The redhead¡¯s arms flopped to his sides, and he rolled his eyes at me like it was all my fault. I¡¯d never have friends after this. I could easily be one of those people from Detective Penny¡¯s book that left the world forgotten. A chill ran up my spine. Mrs. Willows winked at me as she passed, and the boys trudged back to class. The bell rang, and I walked toward class, watching the small stripes of the floor pattern. No one liked the same stuff as me. They found it weird and annoying. Could I drop all the detective stuff? Then what would I do? Now I just wanted my mom. A Phone Call
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*** Unlock the Secrets of the Beyond with the Mystical Ouija Board! Gather ¡¯round the board and let your fingers guide you toward revelations you never thought possible. ¡°Engage in captivating conversations as you communicate with spirits, receiving answers to your most burning questions. Scrabble
*** The Westing Game Just A Game The Westing Game This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°You
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*** her This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
*** Awkward Encounter A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The Westing Game What the heck? Strange Librarian Lincoln Rhyme ¡°Cryptonomicon?¡± ¡°The Notebook?¡± Lila This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. SageWoman In Loving Memory: The Mystery of the Halloways. We gather in somber reflection to remember the mysterious Morrigan Halloway and her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Halloway. Their lives were shrouded in mystery, and their untimely departure on the chilling night of September, Friday the 13th, 1985, has left our community in a state of bewilderment and sorrow. The Halloways, proprietors of the renowned yet curiously secretive vineyard, were known for their reclusive nature and their delightfully unique wine. Morrigan, a reserved yet deeply observant individual, exuded an air of mystery that matched her family¡¯s aura. The vineyard, well-regarded but accompanied by whispers of inexplicable occurrences, added to the mystique that surrounded the family. Morrigan¡¯s passing, along with that of her parents, has cast an even greater shadow over their story, inviting questions that may forever remain unanswered. Amidst our shared grief, may we honor their memory by embracing the complexity of their lives and the riddle they have left behind. Though their journey ended in mystery, may they find solace in the peace that eluded them in life. Rest in peace, dear Halloways, and the mysterious legacy you leave behind. You live on in the echoes of our thoughts.
*** can¡¯t Find Me M Caw! Morrigan Halloway. RIP
*** Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. had you Magic School Bus Plants Seeds Hanging Out Weird moods and pulses of energy came and went throughout the day. I suspected it was some connection with Morrigan. My boots echoed down the hallway after lunch and I whispered, ¡°We should go to the library and see what to do about your old house.¡± Whispers swirled around my head. ¡°That sounds great! And maybe that girl will be there so you can talk.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think ¡ª¡± I pressed through the door and there she was, sitting near the mystery section. Was she waiting on me? Maybe I¡¯d made more of an impression than I thought. Should I sit near her? I scuffed my shoes across the carpet. Not close enough to bother her, but it would give us a chance to talk if she wanted to. My eyes locked on a chair across from her, but three seats away. I grabbed the back of the chair and glanced at the cover of the book she was reading. Detective Penny and the Moonstone Mishap. I laughed under my breath, then sat. She rubbed her eyes and looked up. ¡°Hey.¡± She said, her voice more gravelly this time. ¡°Hi.¡± I smiled. ¡°Like the book? It¡¯s one of my favorites.¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s good.¡± I was unconvinced. Or maybe she was just tired. She yawned and ignited mine. Whispers swirled around my ears, or maybe in my head? I jolted slightly, trying not to show it. ¡°Ask if she wants to come over and read Penny books with you.¡± I glanced around, but only saw the bookshelves, couches, and Mrs. Willows looking around like she¡¯d lost something again. I cringed. I¡¯d never asked someone over before. But Morrigan was here to help, so I needed to cooperate. I cleared my throat and asked her, with a ball of energy in my stomach. She really wasn¡¯t all that into the series, so I didn¡¯t expect her to say ¡ª ¡°Yeah. That¡­ sounds fun.¡± She nodded and yawned again. ¡°Cool!¡± I said a little too loud and Mrs. Willows glanced at me over her glasses. ¡°Sorry.¡± I mouthed. She winked and smiled, now sitting at her computer. ¡°So, can you come over today after school?¡± I whispered. She nodded and shut the book. ¡°I¡¯ll call my dad from the office real quick and meet you outside after school if he says yes.¡± ¡°Okay!¡± I smiled as she packed her books. ¡°But I didn¡¯t get your name before.¡± ¡°It¡¯s Desirae.¡± She smiled. ¡°And you¡¯re Emily, right? I saw your name in all the Penny Books.¡± She let out a weak chuckle. That was a little embarrassing, but I was really excited to have her over and I knew Mom would be happy too. I couldn¡¯t have done that without Morrigan, and we¡¯d hit a wall with her old home. I wasn¡¯t sure how I could get her there, but I loved solving the mystery, and I wanted to pay her back.
*** I met with Desirae after school. She said she could stay until dark. I finally had someone to read Penny books with me and who knew what else? Maybe we could build a fort with Mom and watch movies. That was one of our favorite things to do before Mom got busy with her realtor stuff. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Desirae walked home with me. We were mostly quiet along the way since we didn¡¯t know each other yet. We¡¯d talked a little about Penny books and some things we saw in the neighborhood. Mom¡¯s smile stretched across her face when she met Desirae, but she didn¡¯t want to cut into our time. And I could tell she wanted to pick up her thriller books again. She¡¯d seemed so scattered lately, worrying about me. She curled up on the couch with her book as we went upstairs. ¡°Wow, your room is so clean,¡± Desirae said when I opened the door. ¡°You should see mine. Wait, no, you really shouldn¡¯t.¡± She chuckled. ¡°Like my dad always says, it looks like a tornado went through it.¡± She rolled her eyes. I laughed, but it felt forced and awkward. ¡°Are you feeling better? You seemed tired at school.¡± She hesitated, then said, ¡°I¡¯ve been having these weird nightmares lately, so I keep waking up at night.¡± That was scary. What if they didn¡¯t stop? Would she never be able to sleep again? I got shivers, but I didn¡¯t want to say anything and scare her. ¡°That¡¯s why I left in a hurry the other day,¡± she said. ¡°I was so tired that I forgot the books for my next class in my locker and it¡¯s crazy far from the classroom.¡± I laughed, grateful she wasn¡¯t running from me because she thought I was weird or something. She walked straight to my bookcase and found the Penny books. ¡°Wow! Which is the first one? I think I just got like a random one at the library.¡± She laughed. I reached for the one on the far left. ¡°This one.¡± I handed her Whispers of Whimsy Manor. Desirae flipped through it. ¡°What¡¯s this one about? Without spoiling it!¡± She added quickly, putting up a hand. ¡°It¡¯s about¡­¡± I cleared my throat, ¡°a haunted manor.¡± I glanced at my closet. ¡°Penny has to find a long-lost treasure.¡± ¡°That sounds so good! I love spirits. I liked the one I was reading the other day, but I felt a little left behind.¡± I plopped on my bed. ¡°Yeah, they don¡¯t really go in order, but there are some events that get mentioned that might leave someone out.¡± She nodded and handed it back to me. ¡°Wanna read it now?¡±
*** We read until dusk. Whenever Desirae found a clue or when we finished a chapter, we just talked and laughed about all of it. It was probably the most fun I ever had. But every once in a while, I felt Morrigan¡¯s presence, almost like she was trying to be a part of it. But I couldn¡¯t have that. She could scare Desirae. I tried ignoring Morrigan, but I felt her anger getting stronger. Desirae left right as the sun set and I talked to Mom for a while. She was so happy I finally had a friend. And then what if we got more friends to read mysteries with? After talking to Mom, I raced back upstairs and shut the door behind me. ¡°Thank you,¡± I whispered, looking for Morrigan. She didn¡¯t show up. I slid my closet door open and stared at the clothes. Where was she? I could feel her there, and she felt¡­ angry? Or maybe sad. ¡°Mori?¡± I muttered. ¡°We had a great time. I wish you could have joined us.¡± My stomach churned on the last part, feeling like I had to say it. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you had fun.¡° She appeared at my window, looking outside, ¡°I guess you don¡¯t need me anymore.¡° Her form reddened. ¡°That¡¯s not true!¡± I moved closer. ¡°I still want to help you.¡± ¡°I couldn¡¯t force you to go to the vineyard. Not alone.¡± ¡°But¡­ I wouldn¡¯t be alone.¡± I reached out to grab her hand, but it went through a cold mist. She squeezed it into a tight ball. It must have been so long since she had actually felt something. ¡°Let¡¯s make a plan.¡± She smiled, and turned to me, ¡°You really wanna go?!¡± ¡°Yeah. I just don¡¯t know how.¡± ¡°You could tell your mom that you¡¯re going to Desirae¡¯s after school, and then we can just take a side trip there.¡± Her eyes lit up. ¡°But I¡¯ll have to go to Desirae¡¯s. What if Mom calls her dad or something?¡± Morrigan looked around in thought. ¡°Okay.¡± She rubbed her fingers together. ¡°We can stop by for a bit, then leave for the vineyard.¡± I nodded. Maybe it would work. ¡°But we can¡¯t take too long. Mom would wonder where I was, and she may never let me leave again if she gets too freaked out.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll need long. I just need to jog my memory a little more. Going there might send all my memories back!¡± She said with a floating spin. I laughed as her dress billowed. Her excitement attached itself to me. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I finally get to go back. I¡¯ve been¡­ lost¡­ for so long.¡±
*** That night, I opened my eyes to my room, pitch black. Glancing around, I couldn¡¯t figure out what woke me up. But I felt incredibly alone. The Plan Begins together These are warm colors and those are cool colors. worse The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
*** The Vineyard Morrigan¡¯s bottom lip quivered as we stood at the edge of the property. It looked as if nature itself was trying to pull the house into the ground. Vines climbed between gaps in the brick. A wide tree had crushed one side of the house, and the other side was lifted with stringy roots dangling under the floor. Before I could ask if she was okay, she said, ¡°It¡¯s so lonely.¡± She lifted her hand as if to greet it, then touched the corner of the house where the tree fell. You couldn¡¯t tell where the house ended, and the earth began. ¡°Something is calling me.¡± ¡°Like in The Wastes?¡± ¡°Sort of.¡± I glanced around the property. The other trees were old and dead, some stood strong while others had fallen over, leaning on each other. Mori floated to the vine-covered front door. ¡°I¡¯ll wait outside,¡± I called, but she turned in a snap. ¡°Please, go with me. I don¡¯t want to go alone.¡± Something was really weird about this place, and I didn¡¯t feel like snooping for once. My gut was screaming at me to leave, but there would be no coming back. I followed her to the door and pulled at the tightly strung vines. Morrigan watched me with worried eyebrows. I grabbed the handle, turned, and opened the door, scraping it against the wood. She floated through the threshold, bobbing close to the floor. The house smelled weird. Acidic, like the corroded metal on my bike. Humidity wafted through the door, and puddles of standing water gathered in the uneven areas of the rotted floor. Morrigan floated through the rubble silently, Her eyes drifting across the mess. Old toys rotted in the water. Faint echoes filled the house and sounds of chanting grew louder, but still inaudible. I watched my feet closely as we walked through the uneven house. Dream-catchers made of macram¨¦ and feathers had fallen tangled on the floor. A bookshelf sat down a slope where all their books were peeling apart. I reached for a fat one and it cracked as I opened the first page. Photos of Morrigan and her parents filled the book. Images of their newly purchased house and the vineyard pulling together bit by bit. I slid out a photo of old, withered plant matter and flipped it over. Still no harvest, but we¡¯re hopeful written in thin, flowy cursive. Not all the photos had writing. I slid out another one of a grape the size of a pea and flipped it over. Our first harvest. I smiled. Then there was the photo of the opening of the vineyard. The one I¡¯d seen before of Morrigan holding the hefty grapes. ¡°Mori, look,¡± I called as I stared at the photo of the tiny grape. She appeared in a second and kneeled with me. I handed her the photo. ¡°You weren¡¯t entirely forgotten. This book tells your story.¡± She stared at all the pictures. The vineyard coming together, the wine, customers filling the yard, and even some of Morrigan playing with her toys or with her parents. I slid the picture out where she held the big grapes and flipped it over. Our Legacy. I frowned. ¡°Do you mind if I keep it? This one¡¯s my favorite.¡± ¡°Go ahead.¡± I placed it in my journal folder. ¡°I don¡¯t remember any of this.¡± She shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s like I didn¡¯t even live.¡± ¡°Well, you did. And you seemed to be a very happy family.¡± Morrigan smiled, and her form glowed blue. The first time I¡¯d seen it like that. I was happy to make her feel better. Her parents couldn¡¯t anymore. How had they left her behind? I wondered if I could be left behind too, and my stomach turned. ¡°I remembered something.¡± Morrigan stared at a photo of her parents with red wine-filled glasses. ¡°I didn¡¯t say it before because I didn¡¯t think it was important. It¡¯s something that¡¯s stayed with me¡ªeven in The Wastes. I had asked Mom why we stayed away from the town. She wouldn¡¯t let anyone on the property unless they were buying. No kids were allowed over.¡± She shook her head, then her voice changed, sounding like an older woman. ¡°¡®We can¡¯t reveal ourselves. We have to be who the town needs us to be.¡¯ I never knew what that meant. So I guess I never knew who I was. I was always just doing what they told me to do.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. I stared at the floor in silence before I spoke, ¡°That¡¯s probably why you couldn¡¯t move on from The Wastes.¡± After a minute, I looked back at the photo album, trying to adjust my eyes. But they wouldn¡¯t. I thought maybe those photos were blurry, so I flipped through a few more pages. Each photo grew blurrier and darker as if they were fading into some void. My breathing went shallow as I flipped page after page, hoping to see something clearly. The room went completely dark except for where my body made a long black shadow across the crooked floor, completely alone.
*** ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Morrigan asked after what felt like an eternity. I shook my head. The photos in the album were clear again. ¡°I¡¯m okay.¡± Morrigan watched me for a minute, then turned toward another room at the end of the hallway as if she heard something. She rose and bobbed through it. More family photos in the vineyard sat crooked and broken along the narrow hallway. Morrigan entered a room at the end, surrounded by antique mirrors. The designs, swirls, flowers. They were beautiful. Morrigan gazed into them. She looked the same in her reflection. Echoes or memories of the past played through the house. A child¡¯s laughter, a mother¡¯s cooing, a father¡¯s silly noises, and all along, the faint sound of chanting and secrets. ¡°I remember this mirror.¡± Morrigan kneeled in front of it. ¡°It was my favorite.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I asked, pointing to something sticking out underneath it. She reached in and pulled a dusty book out. Her misty hand wiped away some of the dust and revealed the title, Rituals for Prosperity. Her eyes squeezed shut. She looked like she might cry. I didn¡¯t know what to do. Then she finally opened her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve found this before. When all our grapevines were dying. Mom started leaving in the middle of the night and I got suspicious. Especially since the grapevine¡ªthe clearly dead ones¡ªstarted growing. And fast. ¡°I came in here one night while she was out, and I found this. That¡¯s when I realized what she was doing. They had been so caught up in making the vineyard successful and being stressed about it that I just missed them so much. So¡­ I started giving Mom the wrong ingredients. That¡¯s when the vineyard started to fail again. I didn¡¯t want to. I just thought I¡¯d get my family back.¡± She cried. I touched her forearm. She stared at the cover, then cracked it open. A little note slid out, written in the same scrawly cursive from the photos. We read it together. Morrigana. Let yourself forget. Let us all fade. ¡°N¡ªno!¡± Morrigan shook her head and let the paper float to the floor. ¡°Why do they want to be forgotten?¡± She stared deep into my eyes as if she would find the answer there. We sat in silence for a second, then she flipped through the pages of the ritual book. The room had grown too dark to see, and my stomach dropped. ¡°We have to go.¡± Morrigan¡¯s head snapped up, confusion flashing, then understanding. Taking another glance in the mirror, the full moon of Friday the 13th was reflected. ¡°The moon.¡± She whispered. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m really late now. Mom¡¯s gonna kill me.¡± She shook her head, staring into the mirror. ¡°No.¡± The mirror blacked out and changed, showing a dark night at the vineyard. ¡°No!¡± she screamed. ¡°This is the night it happened.¡± My skin ran cold, and I didn¡¯t think I wanted to see this. Would the mirror really replay their deaths? But I felt like I couldn¡¯t stop watching. Morrigan clipped herbs from the back garden, peeking around the corner to make sure her mother couldn¡¯t see. Many of the plants looked the same, so it would be hard to tell the difference between the herbs, especially at night. She handed them to her mother and said goodnight before walking back into the house. Morrigan walked to her room and peered out the window, watching as her mother ripped the herbs apart and chanted as she sprinkled them over the grapevines. Her mom looked confused as they started growing quickly¡­too quickly. She ran frantically around the vineyard, changing her chant and growing louder until they eventually grew all over the house. Morrigan curled up in a ball under her window, a thin crescent moon reflected in the mirror. Vines climbed Morrigan¡¯s mom¡¯s bare feet, then legs. Her dad burst into the room, asking if she was okay. Grasping hands, they tried to run through the door as the house began to crunch underneath them. Vines poured in the windows as the earth pulled their house in. Then a giant tree slammed into the bedroom, crushing everything beneath. The scene faded, and the mirror reflected our shocked expressions. ¡°I killed us,¡± Morrigan plopped to the floor.
*** I stood silently for a while, not knowing what to say. ¡°What do you mean? It couldn¡¯t be your fault.¡± ¡°But it is! The type of herbs you use depends on the moon phase. I gave her the wrong ingredients, but I didn¡¯t know it could do all that.¡± She sobbed. ¡°We have to get you home before your mom gets mad.¡± She pulled herself up like she was using her last bit of strength. We left the broken house, checking to make sure no one saw us, and walked toward home. I didn¡¯t talk to her on the way. I didn¡¯t know what to say, and I couldn¡¯t imagine how she felt. I froze when I saw Mom¡¯s car in the driveway while passing Desirae¡¯s. ¡°What do I do?¡± I asked. ¡°Go home,¡± Mori mumbled. ¡°Just tell her you must have gotten home right when she left.¡± I was so tired of lying, but it was my only chance to keep Desirae as a friend. If Mom knew where I went, I could get grounded. I ran back home as fast as I could. Though I kept feeling this random pulling sensation through my body. Was I that out of shape?
*** Once I got inside, I caught my breath and called Mom on her mobile. ¡°Emily?!¡± She nearly yelled. ¡°Mom, where are you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m at Desirae¡¯s. Her dad called when you left on your own. Why didn¡¯t you call me?!¡± A lump formed in my throat. ¡°I just didn¡¯t want you to have to drive over and pick me up. I thought I could just come home on my own. Seriously, I must have gotten home right when you left.¡± ¡°Honey, he said you left here an hour ago. It doesn¡¯t take that long to get home. Where have you been?¡± Morrigan¡¯s eyebrows raised. ¡°Has it been that long? I guess I just took my time. I¡¯m really sorry, Mom.¡± ¡°You will be.¡± She hung up. Find the Forgotten - Formatted and Free! You can now get the Find the Forgotten ebook completely free and beautifully formatted when you sign up for my newsletter here. A nostalgic middle grade mystery about a 10-year-old girl who makes a deal with a spirit with a dark, forgotten past. After all, what did she have to lose? At the start of the new millennium, ten-year-old Emily''s made-up mysteries and snooping keeps getting her into trouble, and no one at school likes her because of it. Not fitting in, and getting bored of her favorite books, she doesn''t know who she should be. Worried, her mom takes her out for a girls¡¯ day at the mall and Emily spots a Ouija board promising answers. Her mom refuses to let her buy it, so in the lamplight of her bedroom, she scrawls one herself and whispers to the spirit realm for help. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Contact is made with a spirit named Morrigan who has forgotten her past, and they agree to help each other so both of them can move on. But a dark mystery unfolds as they go searching for Morrigan¡¯s past. Emily makes a new friend, secrets are kept, and guilt and betrayal come between her and the spirit. As tensions rise, Emily seeks the guidance of three young witches for help. Now, she must learn to live for herself before losing herself forever. Find the Forgotten is a dark and cozy paranormal mystery of bookish friends, family secrets, witchy teens, creepy settings, and a dark history perfect for fans of Jessica Renwick and her Lavender Raine series, and Katherine Arden with her Small Spaces series. Find the Forgotten Sequel! Fulll Moon Festival, the sequel to Find the Forgotten is now available on Amazon! And don''t forget that you can get Find the Forgotten free when you sign up for my newsletter. She must face her fears and solve the mystery at a rare Halloween Festival to reclaim her house from a haunting spirit. It¡¯s 2001, and Emily has lost her childhood home to both a haunting spirit and now the government is ready to snatch it up. Emily regrets ever inviting that spirit into her house and wants to make it right (and get her stuff back). Terrified since the ghost possessed her, Emily¡¯s life takes an unexpected turn when her name is drawn for a rare Halloween festival. A camp of spirits is the last place she wants to go, but if she doesn¡¯t show up, her classmates won¡¯t let her hear the end of it. But a comment from a classmate suggests the festival may hold the secret to banishing the spirit. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Digging deeper, Emily learns about a mysterious portal opener who releases spirits on festival grounds every nineteen years. This has happened since the first festival''s unexplainable ¡°accident.¡± Joined by her cousins, Emily rides terrifying rides, follows suspicious camp leaders, questions creepy carnies, and pieces together clues about the festival¡¯s dark past. All while gathering tickets to win the grand prize and spite a bully. But when Emily discovers a secret book, she must face her fears before the spirits unleash a dangerous entity. If she can¡¯t control her fears, everyone at the festival risks losing their sanity. Can she master her fears, banish the spirits, and reclaim her home? Full Moon Festival is a thrilling and ghostly paranormal mystery of supportive family, developing courage, hidden secrets, creepy settings, and a dark history to unravel, perfect for fans of Jessica Renwick''s "Lavender Raine" series and Katherine Arden''s "Small Spaces" series. Full Moon Festival: Portal Spirit Mysteries Book 2 Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. *** ***