I followed Blake Johnson into the the garage to fetch the boxes."So this looks like a normal garage," I commented as he closed the door connecting the house to the dark, cool garage. I squinted slightly due to the low lighting conditions and I felt my irises snap shut immediately he turned on the full lights. "Why wouldn't it?" I heard him ask from somewhere in the room, despite the fact that I had on his glasses, my eyes were still affected."I don't know." I shrugged, trying to still bury the memory of what happened between us earlier deep down. Very deep down. "Everything about you is kinda weird so I expected a weird garage too, I guess.""Like you should be the one calling people weird," he taunted and I finally opened my eyes well enough to observe the room. It was normal, like any normal garage you'd see at any home, cluttered with the same assortments of junk that parents seemed to thrive on carrying

I walked about the market aimlessly for what felt like hours but was most likely minutes, not finding a single soul that could talk or communicate with me.It was like a ghost, invisible and unnoticeable. This was crazy. Where had Azazel taken me to? I could imagine trying to explain this to my mom or anyone for that matter. That the Devil has been contacting me all month long, gave me a deadly assignment to capture my friend's soul and now, he had turned me to a ghost.My life's story was just getting more ridiculous with each passing day. It sounded like it was a fictional tale even.The rows of market people continued to converse and soon I decided to sit on a stool right in front of one of the main stalls. It was of no use wandering around aimlessly around this unknown place.The owner of the stall was a quite fat woman with small, round beady eyes and hardly no neck. She wore a long, blac

Day 23.I had stayed up all the night with the book. It was the oddest book I had ever seen. I sat at my desk in my small room, and carefully opened the black book. It was the most confusing thing I had ever seen but yet I had been savagely drawn to it, like it held some sort of secrets I was supposed to uncover.It contained writings, inscriptions in different languages and handwritings, like the book had been passed down from hand to hand and each person had left their own impact in it. Each page filled with strange writings and drawings, each making no sense yet all connected. Staring at the last few, empty pages that made the book incomplete, I had felt the urge to put down my own piece, to complete it. To write something down. What was this feeling?Where had Blake's mom gotten the book from? The weird dream I had had not answered that question at all, all I knew was that this book was connected to Azazel

I wouldn't trade my mother for anything, the way the woman handled seeing me in tears, that late in the night was amazing. I had sobbed all the way back home, unable to even make coherent sentences and surprisingly, she hadn't even asked a single question.She had crushed me in a hug, telling me I'd be okay and had proceeded to making me some tomato soup. I sat in the living room, still shaking with silent tears and swaddled up in blankets. The TV was on, Disney's Jessie airing and I watched the beautiful Debby Ryan with puffed up eyes. When was the last time I actually sat down to watch TV? It felt like so long ago.The delicious smell of tomato soup filled the air and I felt that warm, homely feel of being loved, being wanted. I wondered if my dad would be proud to see me now, that was even if he remembered he had a daughter. I clicked off the TV with the remote just as my mom came in with a tray containing the bowl of soup.

I burst out in genuine laughter at that, feeling the stress and aches of the past few days lift as I laughed at his reply. I however stopped when I noticed he wasn't laughing along but was looking at me with mild irritation written all over his face."You're serious?" I searched his face, looking for any sign that he had been kidding. I found none. Azazel didn't tell jokes unless they were sick and amused him, I remembered. "Yes, child. I'm quite serious.""What are you? A vampire or something? I thought you were capable of all things.""First, I am capable of most things, to an extent," he replied, his tone clipped and for the first time, I noticed what he was wearing. He had on a black hoodie on an equally black jean which looked like it had seen better days. "Second, there's no such thing as vampires, it was a rumor that I started hundreds of years ago to explain the cravings of women back then. You humans