Books Gravity Falls Journal 1 Novels & Stories

The only other place would be under the bed. I quickly get down on my knees and begin to look under the bed. Unfortunately, it's very dark, and I can barely see anything. I reach my hand under the bed trying to find the stupid pen but end up feeling a book instead. I furrow my eyebrows and reach for it; in the process, I see the pen and manage to grab it as well. I look down at the book and notice engraved letters. The letters are GR in cursive. I open the book and as I flip through it, I notice that it's a journal.

I look up at the ceiling and take a breath. Fuck it! I pull the bundle towards me and begin to unwrap it. Where do I start? “How about we start with one of journals? Or maybe a scroll? Oh, I know we can ip dip for it.” I shake my head in disbelief at what she has just suggested. Ip dip. I chuckle as I reach for the journal on the top of the pile. Running my fingers over it gently, it opens on its own and I drop it from my hands up. What the hell? I watch as the pages turn rapidly, then stop.

Her breath caught as she found herself staring at her mother’s sealed journal, along with several vials filled with a substance that radiated an ominous glow—wolfsbane. The sight sent a jolt through her, a rush of confusion and terror intertwining as she delicately picked up the journal, her hands trembling with the weight of generations. With quickening breaths, she unsealed it, opening to the first page with trembling hands. But as her eyes raced over the text, the words blurred, feelings of dread spiraling around her heart.

For the last book, she needs to use the moving stair to put it back on the shelf. When she focused on placing the book, suddenly, someone walked to her and asked her out of the blue. "Excuse me, Miss. Do you know where I can find all the journals for the botany section?" "Huh?" Aurora turns to look at the man, and her hand, which is holding the thick and heavy journal, slips, and as she tries to catch the journal, she slips her feet on the ladder and… Thudded! She's landing on that man's body. While the thick and heavy journal that she has been holding earlier also hit that man's forehead.

It pricks my interest and I wonder why I didn’t see it before. Guess I was too cut up trying to find a way and escape the suffocating smoke in the space. Scooting over, I grab the book. It’s an old leather-bound journal with several drawings and writings. I sit back down on the creaky floor, folding my legs together and then I flip through the first page that has a written sentence. “The world is dark. Full of myths. But how much do humans know?” That statement alone stirs my nerve and my curiosity flares to the nth degree. I turn the next page and surprisingly a picture falls off.

Looked at it. No urgency to fill it. No fear of what came next. Just recognition. They wrote a single entry. Not a conclusion. Not an answer. A continuation. Then they closed the cover. For a long time they sat without moving. Listening to the world around them. Feeling its steady presence. The journal rested quietly in their hands. Not finished. Never meant to be. Because what it held was not a story with an end. It was evidence. That balance can be lost. That balance can return.

“Is there no information regarding your parents here?” “No, Sir. This is my travel journal." Edmund was suddenly stunned. The girl reminded him of Alice. His wife also had a journal like that. "Look!" The toddler's sweet voice snapped Edmund to the presence. Her tiny index finger was now poking the page that was full of pictures. Their shapes were strange. Some of them had circle marks. “This is my holiday target. Currently, we are heading this way. Chamarel Falls.” Edmund frowned when he saw four long vertical lines which turned out to be a picture of a waterfall. Before the little girl could chatter any longer, he closed the book and put on a firm look.

Shadows leaped, thickening into a dome over her head, but this wasn’t a neat beam or a discrete hazard—it was a chunk of the environment itself giving way under the strain. Her barrier caught part of the impact. Only part. The slab punched through, slowed but not stopped, heading straight for her ribs. “Selene!” I choked. There was no time to write on the floor. There is no time to reach a shelf. Only air between falling ceiling and her body. I didn’t think. I just stabbed the pen at the collapsing mass and dragged it sideways. The nib tore a jagged line in empty space, ink blazing in its wake. FALLS LIKE INK, NOT STONE.

Zara's POV Despite the buzzing in my ears, I forced my hands steady and tried the third vault. It obeyed. The door sighed open and inside lay a journal swaddled in aged velvet, like a relic waiting to be unwrapped. “Of course, another journal,” I muttered, then slipped it into my arms. It was enormous. I opened my bag, but even the large one I’d brought barely swallowed the book. I jammed it in anyway, grateful the velvet cushioned its bulk.

The Gnarlroot fed on a century of lost heartbreak. Back at the blight line, Liora knelt with purpose, she pricked her finger and let a drop of blood fall on the page, then the journal shimmered. “Tell the story,” she whispered to the earth. “I’m listening.” She didn’t say it aloud; she only poured the tale, the love, betrayal, and curse into the journal. The ink swirled, not into words, but ghostly pictures of two young lovers, shadows clashing, and a final tragic leap.