Panic
I'm panicking!!! This is the best I can do! I hope it works!!! Mom found it in the basement and was using it as a decoration.
Help!
I can't write for very long. Just trust me, Olivia. Send me some sort of weapon. It's all I can do to keep them from noticing the Diary. Please, help me! You are my last chance.
~Arabella
~Arabella
Text Talk
Wow, you ARE weird. I thought that I would give you an example of how girls your age talk these days.
" Maddie: Hi BTW u left ur cam. in our strllr
Olivia: thx i was lkn 4 tht
Maddie: lol it out of chrge
Olivia: Ya. i gtg eat bi
Maddie: bibi TTYL c ya
Olivia: c u ltr"
There you go... 13/12 year old text talk. In my century...This is what it means...
" Maddie said, Hi, by the way you left your camera in our stroller.
Olivia/Me said, Thanks I was looking for that.
Maddie said, Laugh Out Loud, It's out of charge.
Olivia said, Yeah, I Got To Go eat goodbye.
Maddie said, Byebye Talk To You Later. See ya.
Olivia said, See you later"
There you go. (translated to old people language by Olivia Leek
Hey, my mom is planting a garden in the back yard. There was a little patch of soil there, with a little path leading up to it. Did you have something there once?
LMK. ( I decided I would start teaching you these things. So if you ever get a cell phone... Or so I don't have to write so much. :) This one means - Let Me Know-)
~ Olivia
Special thanks to Maddie for creating the (made up) conversation! Thanks Maddie!!!
" Maddie: Hi BTW u left ur cam. in our strllr
Olivia: thx i was lkn 4 tht
Maddie: lol it out of chrge
Olivia: Ya. i gtg eat bi
Maddie: bibi TTYL c ya
Olivia: c u ltr"
There you go... 13/12 year old text talk. In my century...This is what it means...
" Maddie said, Hi, by the way you left your camera in our stroller.
Olivia/Me said, Thanks I was looking for that.
Maddie said, Laugh Out Loud, It's out of charge.
Olivia said, Yeah, I Got To Go eat goodbye.
Maddie said, Byebye Talk To You Later. See ya.
Olivia said, See you later"
There you go. (translated to old people language by Olivia Leek
Hey, my mom is planting a garden in the back yard. There was a little patch of soil there, with a little path leading up to it. Did you have something there once?
LMK. ( I decided I would start teaching you these things. So if you ever get a cell phone... Or so I don't have to write so much. :) This one means - Let Me Know-)
~ Olivia
Special thanks to Maddie for creating the (made up) conversation! Thanks Maddie!!!
September 11, 1644- around 3 o'clock in the afternoon
When you go to the attic to find something, be firmly assured that you will indeed find something. Unless, of course, the house has been abandoned for many years, in which case, there will be naught but the dust of the decades... I apologize for my strange speaking, but you're mentioning of the attic sparked my inner author and philosopher. I am one strange being, am I not? I feel that I must be a whimsical fairy of sorts, for I am as unlike from any of my family as day is from night. But, to return to the original point...
A mirror? Yes, I own a mirror that fits your given description, but there is one difference; my mirror has no engravings upon its back. But, I suppose, I will have the mirror engraved eventually- what a strange thought! You know more of my future than I myself do!
Yes, my mirror is indeed valuable. My father is a wealthy merchant as well as a member of Parliament. The mirror in question was a gift from the Prime Minister of India.
I have been standing in front of the mirror for many minutes, and -/`~
A mirror? Yes, I own a mirror that fits your given description, but there is one difference; my mirror has no engravings upon its back. But, I suppose, I will have the mirror engraved eventually- what a strange thought! You know more of my future than I myself do!
Yes, my mirror is indeed valuable. My father is a wealthy merchant as well as a member of Parliament. The mirror in question was a gift from the Prime Minister of India.
I have been standing in front of the mirror for many minutes, and -/`~
The Mirror
Okay I am just going to bypass all your questions 'til another time because I need to talk to you.
I went up to the attic today just to see what I would find and I found something...
Do you know of a mirror that is gold and it's engraved with a leaf pattern??? It says on the back in black ink "Property of Arabella of Belfast". It is beautiful. And I don't like old stuff like that but WOW. It's pretty! Looks like it costs a lot!
I was thinking about how you can see my writing. I was wondering if at 3:00pm tomorrow you could stand in front of the mirror (if you have it).
Olivia
I went up to the attic today just to see what I would find and I found something...
Do you know of a mirror that is gold and it's engraved with a leaf pattern??? It says on the back in black ink "Property of Arabella of Belfast". It is beautiful. And I don't like old stuff like that but WOW. It's pretty! Looks like it costs a lot!
I was thinking about how you can see my writing. I was wondering if at 3:00pm tomorrow you could stand in front of the mirror (if you have it).
Olivia
September 9, 1644- around 1 o'clock in the morning
First of all, I am envious of you for being so clever! If I could have imagined such an excuse as you, my siblings would never be nuisances again! Unfortunately, there are too many of us to be able to have so-called "alone" time with either of my parents.
Second of all, a "pen"?! As in a pig sty? No, wait- I apologize for my rashness, for I did not read the entire sentence before I began to write. Does your "pen" resemble a shaved quill? It sounds marvelous! I have often wished for such a thing, quills and inkwells can become rather messy.
Thirdly, if you don't punch in the numbers, why say "punch"? Are the buttons round and the type that one sews on? And how can a number be written on a button? Buttons are made of glass, wood, or valuable metal. Writing upon one must be extremely difficult. Do you yourself write the numbers on the buttons? Even more so, do you make your own cell phone, or is there a man with the profession of making cell phones? How large are cell phones? Surely they must be somewhat small, for you would not be able to hold one if it was large. Your cell phones are so very complicated!!
Lastly but surely not the least, I am sure you are wondering why I have not written for so long. It is a gruesome tale, full of terrifying twists and turns... actually, I just got punished.
One of my six sisters told my mother that I had been writing in this book. My mother, the beautiful Lady Marianne, disapproves of writing for anything but letters. When she had thoroughly looked it over, I was accused of writing a novel! Of all things, a novel! Of course, I bowed my head in supposed shame, for trying to explain our shared phenomenon of nature would lead to much worse punishment. Then my mother told me that I "was defiling my hard-earned, beautiful penmanship by writing such ugly letters!" She was referring to your writing, I had not the courage to tell her that. So I was punished, not to write anything for four days. My mother even went to the extreme of ordering my brother Jonathan to spy on me, in order to make sure that I was not writing behind her back! So I was forbidden to write until this present date. It infuriates me!
Farewell for now,
Arabella
Second of all, a "pen"?! As in a pig sty? No, wait- I apologize for my rashness, for I did not read the entire sentence before I began to write. Does your "pen" resemble a shaved quill? It sounds marvelous! I have often wished for such a thing, quills and inkwells can become rather messy.
Thirdly, if you don't punch in the numbers, why say "punch"? Are the buttons round and the type that one sews on? And how can a number be written on a button? Buttons are made of glass, wood, or valuable metal. Writing upon one must be extremely difficult. Do you yourself write the numbers on the buttons? Even more so, do you make your own cell phone, or is there a man with the profession of making cell phones? How large are cell phones? Surely they must be somewhat small, for you would not be able to hold one if it was large. Your cell phones are so very complicated!!
Lastly but surely not the least, I am sure you are wondering why I have not written for so long. It is a gruesome tale, full of terrifying twists and turns... actually, I just got punished.
One of my six sisters told my mother that I had been writing in this book. My mother, the beautiful Lady Marianne, disapproves of writing for anything but letters. When she had thoroughly looked it over, I was accused of writing a novel! Of all things, a novel! Of course, I bowed my head in supposed shame, for trying to explain our shared phenomenon of nature would lead to much worse punishment. Then my mother told me that I "was defiling my hard-earned, beautiful penmanship by writing such ugly letters!" She was referring to your writing, I had not the courage to tell her that. So I was punished, not to write anything for four days. My mother even went to the extreme of ordering my brother Jonathan to spy on me, in order to make sure that I was not writing behind her back! So I was forbidden to write until this present date. It infuriates me!
Farewell for now,
Arabella
Oh
I appreciate your concern about me. But living with her for as long as I have, I have figured out how to hide. You see my sister really likes to shop. So I simply told my mom that I was out of shampoo and I really needed to wash my hair. Of course my mom believed it and of course Rachael wanted to go. I mean shopping AND getting to be alone with mom for an hour or so. Her two favorite things. So I got it covered.
Okay first of all we use something called a pen. It is like ink in a tube and when you press you can write. Not a "quill".
And, you don't "punch" in the numbers. You push in the buttons with the numbers written on them.
There you go,
Olivia
Okay first of all we use something called a pen. It is like ink in a tube and when you press you can write. Not a "quill".
And, you don't "punch" in the numbers. You push in the buttons with the numbers written on them.
There you go,
Olivia
September 4, 1644- around 3 o'clock in after noon
This is impossible! The tree cannot be dead! It is in it's prime, fully in leaf and pleasing to the eye! However, the tree may be in it's prime for me, but for you, four centuries later... it must have died. Sad for me, but entirely possible. It matters not, for I was just taking pity on you. I was trying to find you a place where you were away from your sister's prying eyes, and I could know where you were for sure at the time you were writing. The leaves make excellent camouflage. Ah well, the experiment worked! I could see your writing being written!
I had been sitting in the tree for more than thirty minutes with the Diary open on my lap before anything happened. I was admiring the view when I heard a scratching noise, like a quill on a piece of paper. I looked down and saw words being written down hastily. It was as though an invisible hand was holding the quill and making it create the letters. It was astonishing! So we know now that it is the same time of day for both of us. That was my experiment, to discover whether or not we were experiencing the same seasons.
A cell phone sounds even more complicated than I imagined it! I must admit, though, it sounds like it would be much quicker to use than writing a letter. How does one "punch in" the letters? Why punch? Surely there is a chance it could break!
~Arabella
I had been sitting in the tree for more than thirty minutes with the Diary open on my lap before anything happened. I was admiring the view when I heard a scratching noise, like a quill on a piece of paper. I looked down and saw words being written down hastily. It was as though an invisible hand was holding the quill and making it create the letters. It was astonishing! So we know now that it is the same time of day for both of us. That was my experiment, to discover whether or not we were experiencing the same seasons.
A cell phone sounds even more complicated than I imagined it! I must admit, though, it sounds like it would be much quicker to use than writing a letter. How does one "punch in" the letters? Why punch? Surely there is a chance it could break!
~Arabella
Umm.....
Well, Arabella...
THIS IS FREAKIN' RIDICULOUS!!!
Right now I am sitting up here in the tree but there are no leaves. I don't know exactly why you have me up here but if it has to do with leaves it won't work. This tree is DEAD! D-E-A-D. Dead. But here I am. I don't have anything else to say besides explaining a cell phone.
A cell phone is a little mechanical devise that allows people to communicate with each other by talking or texting. Texting is like emailing. Or writing a letter except you punch in the letters instead of writing them. A phone number is a number that the people who are calling you type in to be able to talk to you.
That's the best I can do.
Olivia
P.S. I'm not even going to TRY to explain "Peace out"
September 3, 1644- around 4'oclock in the morning
This is indescribable! You have replied to my letter! As you surely have noticed, I am writing to you personally, and not as though I am writing to myself as one does in a diary entry. And from henceforth on, I shall always write this way in the pages of this Diary. I insist that you do the same, for it is easier to understand. No matter, to reply to your questions-
Yes, you may call me Arabella, for it is easier and quicker to write than "Arabella Of Belfast".
It is most possible! If I am writing to you and I live in the 17th century, than it is perfectly possible! What is impossible is that you are writing from the 21st century! You must be of some importance to know how to write, for surely, even for your time, only the wealthy can hire tutors to teach them how to write! It does explain much about "cell phones", but what are they? How can I call you? I'm sure you would not be able to hear me if I'm in the 17th century! Do you speak into a cell phone and it magically raises the volume of your voice so that people far away may hear it? Although, I doubt that anyone I know will have a deep revolution and invent it. From the way you describe it, it sounds like only someone with great magical powers would be able to even imagine such a thing! And why would you need a number to "call"someone on a cell phone? Do you say the number before you speak so that only will be able to hear you? With all these complications, why do you not just write a letter and wait patiently for a reply?
Yes, I am thirteen. I have lived for thirteen summers, after all. And my style of writing is not old! It is the most recent form to the date! If you want to see old-form writing, than you should look at one of my grandfather's letters! He still uses "dost" and "thou"! I did not know that you were thirteen. You seem to write as if you were younger. Why can I not erase ink? I apologize for my crude use of words.
As for the theories, I do not believe that the first and third are believable enough. Houses are to large to effectively cast a spell upon, or, at least, so I have heard. As for the last, "super powers"? If you mean that we might be witches, I think that one of your parents has to be a witch already. Neither of my parents are witch-like in anyway. Most likely, the book is enchanted. It is just the right size to have the spell be wrapped around it several times over. Of course, it might be Divine Will, and our destinies are entwined so that we may do something great. Of course, if we tried to show somebody besides ourselves, I would be accused of witchcraft an be burned upon the stake. I do not know what would happen to you, but it would surely be severe!
I shall do my best to write back regularly. As you can see, I woke up early because I was anxious to see if you had written back, and now I am in no mood to sleep. I have a theory for deciding what is enchanted- be it us, the book, or the house. At around 3 o'clock in the afternoon, take the book and go outside. Climb the oak tree by the front porch until you are hidden by the leaves, then write in the book. I shall be sitting on the high branch that makes a perfect seat with the book, and I will wait for you to finish writing. I have another theory to test.
"Peace out" to you as well, I suppose, though I am not sure what it means.
~Arabella of Belfast- no, just Arabella
Yes, you may call me Arabella, for it is easier and quicker to write than "Arabella Of Belfast".
It is most possible! If I am writing to you and I live in the 17th century, than it is perfectly possible! What is impossible is that you are writing from the 21st century! You must be of some importance to know how to write, for surely, even for your time, only the wealthy can hire tutors to teach them how to write! It does explain much about "cell phones", but what are they? How can I call you? I'm sure you would not be able to hear me if I'm in the 17th century! Do you speak into a cell phone and it magically raises the volume of your voice so that people far away may hear it? Although, I doubt that anyone I know will have a deep revolution and invent it. From the way you describe it, it sounds like only someone with great magical powers would be able to even imagine such a thing! And why would you need a number to "call"someone on a cell phone? Do you say the number before you speak so that only will be able to hear you? With all these complications, why do you not just write a letter and wait patiently for a reply?
Yes, I am thirteen. I have lived for thirteen summers, after all. And my style of writing is not old! It is the most recent form to the date! If you want to see old-form writing, than you should look at one of my grandfather's letters! He still uses "dost" and "thou"! I did not know that you were thirteen. You seem to write as if you were younger. Why can I not erase ink? I apologize for my crude use of words.
As for the theories, I do not believe that the first and third are believable enough. Houses are to large to effectively cast a spell upon, or, at least, so I have heard. As for the last, "super powers"? If you mean that we might be witches, I think that one of your parents has to be a witch already. Neither of my parents are witch-like in anyway. Most likely, the book is enchanted. It is just the right size to have the spell be wrapped around it several times over. Of course, it might be Divine Will, and our destinies are entwined so that we may do something great. Of course, if we tried to show somebody besides ourselves, I would be accused of witchcraft an be burned upon the stake. I do not know what would happen to you, but it would surely be severe!
I shall do my best to write back regularly. As you can see, I woke up early because I was anxious to see if you had written back, and now I am in no mood to sleep. I have a theory for deciding what is enchanted- be it us, the book, or the house. At around 3 o'clock in the afternoon, take the book and go outside. Climb the oak tree by the front porch until you are hidden by the leaves, then write in the book. I shall be sitting on the high branch that makes a perfect seat with the book, and I will wait for you to finish writing. I have another theory to test.
"Peace out" to you as well, I suppose, though I am not sure what it means.
~Arabella of Belfast- no, just Arabella
Entry Number 3
Holy cow is all I've got to say, holy cow. I can't believe she actually wrote back. And she understood everything I said (well ALMOST everything. She got a little confused on the cell phone thing). Now I will respond to her letter. Even though she is reading this right now.
Dear Arabella (can I call you that???),
1644!!! How is that even possible???? In case you are wondering this is the 21st century. It's 2010. But I guess that explains why you don't have a cell phone. They don't even exist to you!!! I don't know when cell phones were made but in case one of the people in your "village" has some deep revolution and comes up with the idea. Here's my number...749-247-1860 Call me...
Anyway, You said you were 13. Your writing is way to old for a 13 year old girl! Your writing should be like mine. I'm thirteen.
Okay, here are some of my theories on why we can read each others entries...
1. This house is magic.
2. This book is magic.
3. We both have super powers (my personal favorite).
There, now CHOOSE. And write back soon 'cause if my mom sees me sitting around, she makes me play with Rachael (who has been bugging her for hours)!!! So I need an excuse.
Peace Out,
Olivia Leek
P.S. I am NOT a ghost.
P.P.S. I am DEFINITELY NOT a ghost. I was out sitting in the sun reading and got completely red and now I look nothing like a ghost.
Dear Arabella (can I call you that???),
1644!!! How is that even possible???? In case you are wondering this is the 21st century. It's 2010. But I guess that explains why you don't have a cell phone. They don't even exist to you!!! I don't know when cell phones were made but in case one of the people in your "village" has some deep revolution and comes up with the idea. Here's my number...749-247-1860 Call me...
Anyway, You said you were 13. Your writing is way to old for a 13 year old girl! Your writing should be like mine. I'm thirteen.
Okay, here are some of my theories on why we can read each others entries...
1. This house is magic.
2. This book is magic.
3. We both have super powers (my personal favorite).
There, now CHOOSE. And write back soon 'cause if my mom sees me sitting around, she makes me play with Rachael (who has been bugging her for hours)!!! So I need an excuse.
Peace Out,
Olivia Leek
P.S. I am NOT a ghost.
P.P.S. I am DEFINITELY NOT a ghost. I was out sitting in the sun reading and got completely red and now I look nothing like a ghost.
September 1, 1644- around 7 o'clock in the morning
Witchcraft!
She has replied! Olivia Leek has replied to my letter! I am upon the verge of destroying the book so that no more unfortunate souls will be plagued by this ghost and it's mind-boggling game! But wait- if I do that, than I shall lose the chance to find out more of this ghost-writer, for, I must admit, I am curious. Shocked, to be sure, but curious nonetheless. I shall reply to her letter, though, come to think of it, if she can read the letter part of the entry, than surely she can read the rest. I have made myself the village fool! The peasants must come to throw rotten produce at me, for I have been as foolish as a newborn colt! But, putting that aside, I shall reply to her letter.
To the ghost-writer, also known as "Olivia Leek",
I am most definitely not Rachael, whoever she may be. And why would you kill her? She is your younger sister! In my village, to murder another human being is common, but illegal all the same. To murder is punishable by death. As you know, I am not Rachael, in fact, I am Arabella of Belfast, daughter of Lord Magnus of Belfast, who is the sole ruler of the town of Belfast. He is a man of great value, a member of the Royal Cabinet of King Charles the First, the king of England. My father is an important man, he is told the more important secrets of His Grace King Charles. As for this word "clueless", I know not what it means, but I am confused beyond measurement. We are alike in this- nobody else who lives in my father's house would pull such a child-like prank.
I know that you are Olivia Leek. You have written it as your way of showing that a written work was over many times. I have read over and over again the words you have written in this Diary, for my eyes did not believe what they saw. You, and I quote, "...have plain old straight brown hair". Is that proof enough of the fact that I have indeed read what you have written? As for proof, here it is:
The date is the month of September, the day is the first, and the year is the year of our Lord 1644.
My age is thirteen years, I shall turn fourteen within the next month.
I do not know of a "cell phone number" or a "text", is this more witchcraft of yours, ghost?
My favorite food is, by no doubt, the delicious French onion soup that my father's favorite cook makes. It is the most divine thing I have ever eaten! The food of the angels! She surely must put some form of perfection into the broth!
I found this Diary in the attic of the great stone mansion in which I live. It was hidden beneath many old gowns that had been there for many years.
I believe that, to even try to understand this strange phenomenon, that you must tell me more of your life. Please write more!
~Arabella of Belfast
She has replied! Olivia Leek has replied to my letter! I am upon the verge of destroying the book so that no more unfortunate souls will be plagued by this ghost and it's mind-boggling game! But wait- if I do that, than I shall lose the chance to find out more of this ghost-writer, for, I must admit, I am curious. Shocked, to be sure, but curious nonetheless. I shall reply to her letter, though, come to think of it, if she can read the letter part of the entry, than surely she can read the rest. I have made myself the village fool! The peasants must come to throw rotten produce at me, for I have been as foolish as a newborn colt! But, putting that aside, I shall reply to her letter.
To the ghost-writer, also known as "Olivia Leek",
I am most definitely not Rachael, whoever she may be. And why would you kill her? She is your younger sister! In my village, to murder another human being is common, but illegal all the same. To murder is punishable by death. As you know, I am not Rachael, in fact, I am Arabella of Belfast, daughter of Lord Magnus of Belfast, who is the sole ruler of the town of Belfast. He is a man of great value, a member of the Royal Cabinet of King Charles the First, the king of England. My father is an important man, he is told the more important secrets of His Grace King Charles. As for this word "clueless", I know not what it means, but I am confused beyond measurement. We are alike in this- nobody else who lives in my father's house would pull such a child-like prank.
I know that you are Olivia Leek. You have written it as your way of showing that a written work was over many times. I have read over and over again the words you have written in this Diary, for my eyes did not believe what they saw. You, and I quote, "...have plain old straight brown hair". Is that proof enough of the fact that I have indeed read what you have written? As for proof, here it is:
The date is the month of September, the day is the first, and the year is the year of our Lord 1644.
My age is thirteen years, I shall turn fourteen within the next month.
I do not know of a "cell phone number" or a "text", is this more witchcraft of yours, ghost?
My favorite food is, by no doubt, the delicious French onion soup that my father's favorite cook makes. It is the most divine thing I have ever eaten! The food of the angels! She surely must put some form of perfection into the broth!
I found this Diary in the attic of the great stone mansion in which I live. It was hidden beneath many old gowns that had been there for many years.
I believe that, to even try to understand this strange phenomenon, that you must tell me more of your life. Please write more!
~Arabella of Belfast
Entry Number 2
I can’t believe this! There is another post in this old diary! ANOTHER one. This time “Arabella of Belfast” (that’s what she calls herself) wrote ME a letter. ME!!! She sounded about as clueless as I am. If you are reading this out of the diary just turn back a page and you will see it. Written there in perfect cursive (as always). And in perfect grammar and spelling! That’s how I know it wasn’t Rachael. She never has perfect grammar and rarely spelling. And she doesn’t even know how to write in cursive! Well, I guess I should respond to the letter. (even though I’m still not sure if it is real)
Dear “Arabella of Belfast”,
If you are Rachael you are DEAD!!! And if you are NOT Rachael, who ARE you??? I am clueless. Nobody else lives here that would do this. So if you aren’t Rachael then here…
I am Olivia Leek. If you really can see everything that I write, go back a few pages till you get to the one all about me and read. But I’m going to need some proof…
The date…
Your age…
Your cell phone number (I’ll text you)…
Your favorite food…
And where you found this diary…
I know that we live in the same house. But it just doesn’t make sense.
P.S. I hope that you are smarter than I am and can figure this whack out.
Peace,
Olivia Leek
August 31st, 1644- around 4 o'clock in the afternoon
Unbelievable
Incredible! Beyond belief! The Diary has even more writing in it! In the same handwriting! By the same person! On the page just after my last entry! It's an incredible phenomenon of nature, surely witchcraft! But wait- what if the ghost was able to read what I had written? And thus, to be able to communicate to me through the pages of this book! I shall try it.
Dear "Olivia Leek",
I am not sure if you will be able to read this, more likely than not, I am making a fool of myself, but I had to try. If you can understand what I am writing, please reply in letter form. I would like assurance of your existence.
Sincerely Yours,
Arabella of Belfast
No doubt, that was the shortest letter I have ever written. If my theory is correct in any way, the so-called "Olivia" can read every word I write. I hope that she writes quickly, for, already, the suspension is almost too much to bear.
~Arabella of Belfast
Incredible! Beyond belief! The Diary has even more writing in it! In the same handwriting! By the same person! On the page just after my last entry! It's an incredible phenomenon of nature, surely witchcraft! But wait- what if the ghost was able to read what I had written? And thus, to be able to communicate to me through the pages of this book! I shall try it.
Dear "Olivia Leek",
I am not sure if you will be able to read this, more likely than not, I am making a fool of myself, but I had to try. If you can understand what I am writing, please reply in letter form. I would like assurance of your existence.
Sincerely Yours,
Arabella of Belfast
No doubt, that was the shortest letter I have ever written. If my theory is correct in any way, the so-called "Olivia" can read every word I write. I hope that she writes quickly, for, already, the suspension is almost too much to bear.
~Arabella of Belfast
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I'm going to kill Rachael!!! She did two drastic things to me today, none were good. You know how I told you that I was going to look the property thing up? Well I did and I didn't find anything. It turns out that all those websites are spam kind of things. You know the ones that show the Victoria Secret adds, or "She lost 100 pounds in 10 weeks"??? Well, that was exactly what was on all of those websites-nothing. And it just so happened that while I was on one of those sites with the "bad" adds, Rachael walked by, and of course looked to see what I was doing. Then she saw the half naked lady and went screaming to Mom. " MOM, MOM, Olivia is looking at naked ladies!!!!" And of course Mom came running to see, but I'm not THAT dumb, I had already closed that site long before she came with her little feet stomping on the old creaky wood floor. I still got in trouble though so I had to go to my room which is not all THAT bad because YOU are up here. The other thing she did was super drastic. She found my book that my friend secretly gave me. Not that it has anything in it or anything. It's not that at all. It's that once she found it, she went to go show my mom. Now my mom wouldn't care at all if I hadn't not told her about it. You see my mom is one of those people that writes a lot of notes. And whenever somebody gets us something we MUST write an at least 2 page thank you note. So I got in trouble...duh. Now it's time to go to bed. 'Til tomorrow...
~Olivia Leek
~Olivia Leek
August 29th, 1644- around 5 o'clock in the evening
A Confusing Thing
I am in utter shock. The Diary has more writing in it! And it was not from the pages before, with the writing that has faded with time, but ahead of my entries! I parted the covers of the Diary this morning to write and the pages fell open to strange writing, dark and spiky, not at all like any writing I have ever seen! The writer used strange words, for example- "cheesy, braces, Missouri, and spooky". Nothing she wrote of had any relation to cheese, when she wrote of "braces" she did not give any further explanation of what they were, never have I heard of a place called "Missouri", and "spooky" is not a word to my knowledge. There was no date in the entry, and her letters do not connect! She seems to have scrawled all over the page instead of writing carefully and legibly. I know she is female for she has written her name as "Olivia Leek". Is a leek not a vegetable? Yet she writes as though it is her place of residence. This is all a profound mystery to me. I must pray that it is my brother playing a practical joke on me, for it sounds like something he would do. Yet, he is almost too stupid to be able to do this.
Away from this strange phenomenon, I have been doing my very best to get used to the strange surroundings of Belfast. In truth, I much prefer it to my home country of England, for the beauty here is almost indescribable. I rode one of the horses around the town, and found the townspeople to be very kind and hospitable. I enjoyed my time thoroughly.
Until next I write,
-Arabella of Belfast
I am in utter shock. The Diary has more writing in it! And it was not from the pages before, with the writing that has faded with time, but ahead of my entries! I parted the covers of the Diary this morning to write and the pages fell open to strange writing, dark and spiky, not at all like any writing I have ever seen! The writer used strange words, for example- "cheesy, braces, Missouri, and spooky". Nothing she wrote of had any relation to cheese, when she wrote of "braces" she did not give any further explanation of what they were, never have I heard of a place called "Missouri", and "spooky" is not a word to my knowledge. There was no date in the entry, and her letters do not connect! She seems to have scrawled all over the page instead of writing carefully and legibly. I know she is female for she has written her name as "Olivia Leek". Is a leek not a vegetable? Yet she writes as though it is her place of residence. This is all a profound mystery to me. I must pray that it is my brother playing a practical joke on me, for it sounds like something he would do. Yet, he is almost too stupid to be able to do this.
Away from this strange phenomenon, I have been doing my very best to get used to the strange surroundings of Belfast. In truth, I much prefer it to my home country of England, for the beauty here is almost indescribable. I rode one of the horses around the town, and found the townspeople to be very kind and hospitable. I enjoyed my time thoroughly.
Until next I write,
-Arabella of Belfast
The Entry
Dear Old Diary,
~Olivia Leek
My First Day of Ireland
Dear Old Diary,
Oh my gosh this is cheesy!!! I'm sorry but I've never actually written in one of these things! I've received them as usual great grandmother birthday presents but I never have actually written in one! Which is why I am so surprised at my self. Okay I guess I might need to explain a little.
My name is Olivia Leek, I am 12 years old. I have one younger sister, she's 9 and always wants to do whatever I'm doing! Her name is Rachael. I guess she's cute and nice and stuff but she can get super annoying! Anyway we moved here today! To IRELAND!!! I mean really of all places on the earth we had to move to this crappy old mansion in IRELAND!!! It's like all of the sudden we're leaving our perfect house (the one I've lived in all my life) on the perfect street (Wickerville) in the perfect town (Kansas City) in the perfect state (Missouri) in the perfect country (the wonderful United States of America) to live here! Where I have NO friends!!! And I was doing completely fine on the popularity scale in West Way middle school, when grandma just had to get sick and we just had to move to Ireland!!! IRELAND!!! I know what you're probably thinking "Ireland that's supposed to be beautiful this time of year!"!!! Well if it WAS I would be to mad to notice! So NOW I have to go to a brand new school in IRELAND, try to make brand new friends in IRELAND and try to be happy about it!!! Well I'll tell you something I am NOT happy!!! Now that that's over with let me tell you how I met you. well we got here at 10:32 EXACTLY and I mom said to go explore till lunch. So of course I went as far away from everybody as possible. And trust me it's not hard to escape in this place. So out of instinct I went to the attic. It was and IS DISGUSTING!!! There were spider webs all over the place and my allergy's were out of control because of all the dust!!! It was kind of like those movies where they try to make it all spooky. And to tell you the truth it was working. Well the first thing that caught my eye was this old metal chest that looked like it probably was from the 1500's !!! I mean this thing was OLD!!! So of course I opened it up. Now don't get me wrong it's not like I'm one of those girls who only shops at Abrecrombie and texts all day. No I'm not like that at all, I LOVE action and adventure!!! But that doesn't mean that I don't like BOYS or something, because I do...
Anyway, I opened it. The rusty old metal creaking. At that moment I was praying that Rachael wouldn't find me up here! And inside was only this and a piece of some old cloth. So I took it and ran to the room I was going to be staying in. And it was a good thing that I stuck it in my shirt because at the same moment that I swung open the door that leads to the ladder, there was Rachael with her big blue eyes and long straight brown hair. By the way me and Rachael look almost identical besides I have a ahem let's just say chest. And I'm taller and I have braces and... you get the picture. I wouldn't say that I was super model cute. But really I wasn't that bad when I wanted to be. Well anyway, I did a sneaking move and jumped to the side and behind and scurried down that ladder as fast as my running shoes would carry me. Which is pretty fast by the way. I WAS the fastest 6th grader in the school. Keyword there WAS!!! Well anyway when I got to my room I closed the door really fast and locked it. A few seconds later Rachael was banging on the door squealing "Let me in Olivia!!! I'm gonna tell mom you are being mean to me..." You see Rachael was really good at getting whatever she wants because she has this "cry" that almost anyone would believe. Besides me, I've had my training. So I was forced to let her in. Of course I hid the diary first!!! My secret spot was with my organized undergarments. She would never look there. So I let her in she snooped around for a bit and then it was time for lunch. So after lunch I snuck back up here and started writing this. And here I sit, writing to you Old Diary. And of course I realized that this has writing in it already. I just figured oh well they're not going to come back to life and suck me down to hell are they??? So I wrote and I keep writing. But now I'm going to shower so... till tomorrow Old Diary.
~ Olivia Leek
Above is a picture of the only good part of Ireland, the view...
August 27th, 1644- around 10 o'clock at night
The Finding of This Diary
All right, certain things must be explained. I have found this Diary in the attic of my family's mansion, a great, stone-walled and ivy-covered house several stories tall in Ireland. My exploration of the mansion led me to the attic where, hidden in a trunk filled with old, musty gowns, I found this leather-bound book. Written in fancy script across the worn cover was these words- The Diary. Many entries have been placed here before mine, but the ink is too faded to read, so I have turned to a fresh page to write of my ever-so-boring life. I suppose I should describe myself. I have bluish-greenish-grayish eyes, dark brown hair that is abominably wavy and reaches my waist, and a wish to become both author and illustrator that is extremely frowned down upon by my parents, the Lord and Lady of Belfast. The title has no meaning in this quaint little village, where the villagers all continue their business without so much as a glance at the newly established Lord and Lady. Quite touching, actually, considering what Father has done recently. If I were a villager, I would have led a revolt by now. The hour is late, padded footsteps approach the old bedroom I have been given, and the candle grows dim, so I close with this- if ever one finds this Diary, use it wisely, for it has an air of power about it that I cannot define, and I have the strangest feeling something incredible will happen when I close these pages. But will that something incredible be for the better or the worse? I must wait to find out.
-Arabella of Belfast
All right, certain things must be explained. I have found this Diary in the attic of my family's mansion, a great, stone-walled and ivy-covered house several stories tall in Ireland. My exploration of the mansion led me to the attic where, hidden in a trunk filled with old, musty gowns, I found this leather-bound book. Written in fancy script across the worn cover was these words- The Diary. Many entries have been placed here before mine, but the ink is too faded to read, so I have turned to a fresh page to write of my ever-so-boring life. I suppose I should describe myself. I have bluish-greenish-grayish eyes, dark brown hair that is abominably wavy and reaches my waist, and a wish to become both author and illustrator that is extremely frowned down upon by my parents, the Lord and Lady of Belfast. The title has no meaning in this quaint little village, where the villagers all continue their business without so much as a glance at the newly established Lord and Lady. Quite touching, actually, considering what Father has done recently. If I were a villager, I would have led a revolt by now. The hour is late, padded footsteps approach the old bedroom I have been given, and the candle grows dim, so I close with this- if ever one finds this Diary, use it wisely, for it has an air of power about it that I cannot define, and I have the strangest feeling something incredible will happen when I close these pages. But will that something incredible be for the better or the worse? I must wait to find out.
-Arabella of Belfast
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