The past few days were empty days. I had wholeheartedly expected that I would be attacked or something like that from the witches of Nether Mount High.
But it was simply empty days. There were no witch attacks, I lived out the next few days rather averagely. I stopped reading the creepy journal after I saw the strange prophetic ramblings on it. I wondered who the owner was?
Why was it shelved with other books in the library? It was safe to say I was creeped out upon seeing the ramblings of a mad man in the book. My dreams had slowly assimilated into nightmares, I didn't have dreams anymore, just nightmares.
I still didn't know what my hex was about. The itching on my wrist wasn't subsiding, and my coughing had turned full blown out. I was terrified of my ending at this point. I didn't know where to begin with this hex, my last strand of hope depended on Caspian Crescent, and I didn't know where to find him.
