The Little Black Book

In the small town of Burbank, there were shops of every kind. Most of them lined main street on both sides, where someone could find anything they needed, and many things they didn’t. One of these shops was Burbank Antiques, as the small sign above the door let everyone know. Like most antique stores, there were shelves and shelves full of items some people would call junk, but others would call treasures.

There were only two customers in the store, which by the store’s standards could be called a crowd. Megan and Brianne browsed through the old, dusty merchandise as if it were their first time in the store, although it was most definitely not. They were both fans of antiques, and this store was one of their favorites. The two women stopped by almost weekly to see what they could find. There were always new treasures to discover, and today was no different.

“Brianne! Look at this notebook,” Megan called excitedly to her friend.

Megan was holding a small, black leather notebook. The book was clearly old, although it was in amazing condition for something found in an antique store. It wasn’t faded or scratched, and it even had a pleasant, leathery smell to it.

“That is the nicest notebook I’ve ever seen,” said Brianne. “It doesn’t even look like it belongs in here.”

“I know, right?” Megan replied. “The only thing is, there’s some writing on the first page, but I guess I can live with that.”

“What does it say?” asked Brianne.

Megan opened the book and turned to the first page where there were some hand-written lines of text. The writing looked incredibly old, as if written with a quill and ink.

“Read aloud the things I say, but be sure to do so everyday. I promise you that if you do, all your dreams will soon come true,” read Megan. She paused for a moment before she finished reading. “But possibly your nightmares too.

“Wow, that’s weird, and a little creepy,” said Brianne.

“I’d say more than a little. Someone thinks they’re a poet,” joked Megan. “I’m still getting it, though. It’s too nice to pass up.”

“For sure,” said Brianne. “If you weren’t getting it then I would be. How do you always find the nice stuff?”

Megan arrived home later that evening after having dinner with Brianne. She walked into her kitchen and set her purse on the dining table. She searched through it for a moment before pulling out the black leather notebook she had purchased earlier in the day.

“I don’t know what I’m going to use you for, but I’ll think of something,” Megan said to the book.

Megan flipped through the book, looking at the blank pages. She frowned slightly when she noticed there was now writing on the second page, in addition to the writing on the first page that had been there earlier. The words were hand-written, the same as the ones on the first page. She opened the book wider to read the new words.

“I know what you want, and I know what you need, so soon you will feel financially freed,” Megan read. “But be thankful for these things you wanted, or you might just end up being haunted.”

Megan stared at the words for a moment, frowned, then shook her head. She put the book down on the table and left the kitchen.

Megan awoke from a deep, restful sleep when the phone next to her bed suddenly started ringing. She sat up and looked around her dark bedroom, confused. She looked at the digital clock next to the phone and the glowing numbers told her that it was 3:00AM. Annoyed, she answered the phone.

“Hello?” Megan said very curtly.

“Hello, is this Megan Morley?” said a voice on the phone.

“I guess that depends on who’s calling. Do you have any idea what time it is?” asked Megan.

“I’m sorry for the late call, but I need to inform you that your Uncle Dylan has passed away,” said the voice.

Megan sat there in the dark, thinking to herself. Her mind was still foggy from waking up in the middle of the night, but she could not remember ever having an Uncle Dylan, or any other uncle for that matter.

“Uncle Dylan? I don’t even have an uncle. Who is this?” Megan replied.

“I have you listed as next of kin for Dylan, and it I need to inform you he has left you approximately twenty thousand dollars,” the voice answered.

Megan sat speechless for a few seconds.

“Hello?” asked the voice on the phone.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m here. I just… I’m really pretty sure I don’t have any uncles,” said Megan.

“Well, the check is already made out, and it will be mailed in the morning,” replied the voice. “If you have any further questions or concerns, there will be a phone number and address on the letter I’ll be sending with the check. I’m sorry for your loss Miss Morley. Try to have a good night.”

“Yeah, uh… Okay, thanks,” said Megan.

Megan hung up the phone. She sat in her bed, staring at nothing in particular for a few moments. She frowned to herself before lying back down to try and continue her sleep. She pulled her warm blankets up around her neck as a smile slowly spread across her face.

“Twenty thousand dollars,” she said to herself. “I really hope I’m not dreaming.

Brianne sat alone at a small, round wooden table in the middle of a crowded restaurant. She casually browsed a menu while she looked around the busy room. She didn’t even notice as Megan approached from behind her.

“Hey!” said Megan, as she grabbed Brianne’s shoulder.

Brianne jumped, startled.

“Megan!” exclaimed Brianne. “You scared me!”

“You’ll never guess what happened to me last night,” Megan said, completely ignoring Brianne.

“You’re right. I’ll never guess,” laughed Brianne.

“My uncle died,” replied Megan, as she sat down across from Brianne.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry, Megan,” said Brianne.

“I didn’t even know I had an uncle,” said Megan.

“Oh,” said Brianne.

“He left me twenty thousand dollars,” Megan replied excitedly.

“Oh!” exclaimed Brianne.

“Right?” Megan asked. “How awesome is that?

“Well, I mean, other than the part where someone died, it’s pretty awesome,” answered Brianne.

“Of course,” said Megan. “Other than the dead uncle. Can you believe it though? Twenty thousand dollars! This is going to save me! I can pay off my car, pay off my credit card, and have a bunch of extra spending money.”

“So… Lunch is on you?” joked Brianne.

“Absolutely,” laughed Megan. “Let’s go shopping again today too.”

It was dark by the time Megan arrived back at her house. She was holding multiple shopping bags as she entered her kitchen, which she placed on the table. In the dim light she didn’t even notice her little black notebook still sitting there from the night before, and it quickly became covered.

“What a long day,” said Megan. “I’m exhausted. Time for a shower and then bed.”

Megan left the kitchen without giving her little black book a single thought.

Megan’s bedroom was dark and silent, except for the sound of her slowly breathing. Suddenly, there was a single, loud bang on her bedroom door that startled her awake.

“What…” said a very confused, and half-asleep, Megan.

She sat up and turned on her bedside lamp, still unsure of what woke her. She looked over at the clock, which showed 3:00AM. She looked around the room, but everything seemed quiet and still. Megan decided she must have been woke by a bad dream, so she reached over to turn off the lamp. Just as she was about to do so, she noticed her little black book sitting on her nightstand.

“What the hell?” Megan exclaimed. “I know you weren’t there when I went to bed.”

Megan picked up the book and quickly flipped through it. She stopped when she noticed the third page now had writing on it. She read it to herself and let out a gasp.

A loud bang on her bedroom door made her jump.

“Who’s there?” asked Megan.

Another bang.

“I’m calling the police right now!” shouted Megan. “You better get out of here!”

Megan picked up her bedside phone but found only silence. There was no dial tone.

“No, no, no!” whispered Megan, as she tried pressing the phone buttons anyway.

Another bang.

“The police are on their way! They’ll be here any second!” yelled Megan.

Another bang. Then another. The banging on the door was getting faster, and harder.

“Go away!” Megan screamed.

Megan pulled the blankets up tighter around her, as if the thick layers of fabric would protect her. The little black book slid off the bed and fell to the floor, somehow landing open, face-up, on the third page.

The banging was constant now. The room shook with each hit, and the door started to splinter and crack. One final blow and the door burst open.

Megan let out a piercing scream as she pulled the blankets over her head. Her scream was abruptly cut-off as the lamp beside her bed fell to the floor. It did not break, but it did illuminate the notebook that sat on the floor.

On the third page of the little black book, new writing was visible. The words were the last thing Megan had ever seen:

I told you to read me everyday,

But you don’t listen to what I say.

So watch yourself in this night so black,

Your uncle wants his money back.