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The Spirits of The Home — Chapter 2


I fell asleep at some point in my research but there are still so many unanswered questions. I didn’t find a single answer last night and I’m back to step one. I sigh as I get up and go to make my breakfast. I grab my phone and check it for messages to find a good morning text from my significant other, bringing a smile to my face and making my mood a little bit better. 

I debated on what to eat for breakfast this morning, eventually deciding to make some toast and jelly.  Something simple and light since I’m not that hungry now. I put the bread in the toaster and as soon as I close it, I jump a little. To my surprise, the angsty teen is back. I took a moment to collect my breath as I walk back over and grabbed my toast. I put it on the plate and then grab a knife, open the jelly and spread it on my bread. She moves over to me. 

After I finish, I look at her and say, “Good morning, Mara.” 

“You mean a gloomy morning. Every morning is the same as the last one for me. There isn’t much change when you’re stuck here,” she says as she crosses her arms. 

Her pursed lips and wandering eyes lead me to believe she’s thinking about something. But I wonder if I should just let it go for now, ultimately deciding to not point that out as I speak. 

“I mean you can’t be mad when you won’t accept my help. Or when you won’t give me anything to work with.” 

I bit my toast and she says nothing. But the look on her face doesn’t change and she opens her mouth to speak, but changes her mind. There is complete silence in the house except my breath. It’s always been strange to me that even with someone else in the room I still feel lonely. It’s as if I am the one that doesn’t belong instead of the spirits. 

I am quickly snapped out of my thoughts as Mara has moved right in front of me. I look straight into her eyes as she pulls something out from behind her back. 

“What is this?” she says.

 I take it from her hands and I look at the object. There is some dirt on it, so I move over to the trash and swipe the dirt off of it. I look more closely at it, feel it and pay attention to its details. Once the dirt is gone, I am shocked to see that it is an old fashion journal. Not many are made anymore. I look at Mara, holding it up to her. 

“Mara where did you find this at?” I say. 

It was really weird to have found something like this, but this could be a sign to figuring out more to her story. I wait for an answer. She bites her lip – seeming to be debating on whether or not she should tell me. 

“Mara, you don’t remember much about your past. Maybe this might have answers to help you move on.” 

This comment creates a small flicker of hope in her eyes. But it’s gone as soon as it came. 

“I found it under the house when I was looking in the shelter that was built under here,” she says, “There were boxes beside them. It seemed out of place so I picked it up. I thought it might have been one of yours.” 

I nod my head and think about this new development. But as soon as I am about to ask another question, Mara disappears. I let out a small sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. I don’t know anything about Mara, just some of the things she has told me which again, is not much help at all. I’m shocked Ethan hasn’t shown up. I look at the clock to see it’s noon already. 

After cleaning up my little mess I made as I went back to my room. I look at the journal as I open a random page. I read what is on the page as there is a name – Ya’mara. Could this have belonged to Mara when she was alive? 

It’s a simple entry talking about a day at school and how there was a boy she liked named Johanna. He seems like your average bad boy. I notice that the year for the entry is 2016, making it from about four years before we moved in. I pull out my laptop and type in the name. Information about a missing girl by that name comes up. 

The photo of my mom is still out, and I realize I forgot to put it away. I pick it up and put it back in its place. There is also a name of the high school that she attends. After finding the address, I clean up fast and head downstairs and grab my keys and making sure I have everything before I head out. I walk out to my car, unlock it, get in and start the car up. I take a deep breath. 

“Looks like we are going back to school,” I say to myself. 

I start my car and back out of the driveway and head to the high school. As I am not sure what to expect, but hope to get answers.

Feature image of old journal and map courtesy of


Echo (they/them) is a first-year Staff Writer at The Quindecim. They are a Psychology major with a minor in Creative Writing. Echo is from Delaware and a graduate of Lake Forest High School where they were part of the drama club. In edition to the Q, they are a member of the Dungeons and Dragons Club and the Anthro Club at Goucher College (AcGc). In their free time, Echo likes to write and cosplay.

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