Legend: Part 5

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Credit: Courtesy to Gracie Hancock, Pixabay, and Phonto

Gracie Hancock, Senior Staff Writer

Natasha

 

I waited until the door closed behind Lydia before I rushed over to her desk where she’d carelessly left her journal. This was my one chance to uncover whatever secret she’d been hiding from me. I threw open the front cover and began skimming through the first page.

 

I don’t really know how I should start this. I guess you could say my life is unusual… in a sense. Yes, I’m your average freshman about to start college living in an average dorm leading an average life. I’m just the same as any other 18 year old, there just one thing different about me….

 

Boring, boring. I skipped her tedious intro and looked further down her journal entry.

 

I lucked out with my roommate, Natasha. She’s cool, I guess, a little too invested in campus life but it’s not a problem to me…

 

Too invested in campus life? Who’d she think she is? I ignored her insulting comment and skipped down further into her entry.

 

Oh gosh, I forgot the most important part. This journal is magical…

 

Now this was something worth reading.

 

Whatever I write in this book comes to life, but of course there are rules. I can’t change the past or anything that has already happened. If I’m just writing about my feelings or my day like I’m doing now, nothing happens. I can’t write about something that already exists, so it’s not like I can write a better teacher if I do get a bad one. I can’t use the journal to tamper with my studies… well that’s more of my dad’s rule. Oh, and I can’t write the future. That’s the most important rule and the worst one in my book. The journal is useful nevertheless. Even things you draw can come to life.

 

Whatever I write in this book comes to life. I knew she’d been hiding something from me, but I hadn’t the slightest clue her secret would be something of this magnitude. I could barely believe my eyes. My roommate had a magical book. Who knows what other magical objects she owned? Maybe she had magical powers. Maybe she was a witch. A witch. A thought dawned on me. I scavenged the room for a pencil and began hastily scribbling in a back page of the journal. The sound of the doorknob turning made me jump and I quickly threw down my pencil and shut the book. Luckily for me, she’d been too invested in her own thoughts to notice anything.