I will admit, i did drop the book, trip, and fall on my ass.

OUCH.

FUCK FUCK FUCK SHIIIITTTTT THAT FUCKING HURT!!

Those selective words and more ran through my mind along with the pain.

But as the pain faded, different thoughts came through.

I know i didn't write that. I know i didn't. Who did, then? Mom? No, not her handwriting. Dad has been at work all day, and it's not his handwriting either.

I was severely freaking out. Only one thing left to do. Respond.

I slowly reached out and grabbed the journal, as if it might come alive and eat me. Then I snatched up the nearest pen in my reach and opened the book.

Greetings

Hello

WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!?

Stop judging me. I wrote the first thing on my mind.

I stared at that thing for what felt like hours until something finally happened.

Words appeared onto the page in ink.

What the heck is happening?!

I answered again.

I don't know. I got this old leather journal for my birthday yesterday and now here i am!

I just got this today.

You never answered my question. Who are you?!?

My name is

I waited a few seconds for the name to show up after the message.

Well?

It doesn't show up.

That's bullshit. You just don't want to tell me.

Oh yeah? Try writing your name, genius.

I really was starting to get annoyed.

Fine. My name's

I wrote Victoria, but no ink appeared on the page.

See? I told you so.

Be quiet.

How?

Why won't it show up?

It probably isn't something with the pen, seeing as our pens work fine now.

So what am i supposed to call you, dipshit.

How about we use fake names for now?

Sure.

Then in that case, you can call me Harris.

Seriously. Out of all the names you can have, you choose Harris?

Well, if it doesn't suit your oh-so-important opinion, I'll think of something else.

You do that. Call me Cara.

The name popped into my mind. I remembered an aunt i had by that name. She was really nice, i liked her a lot. I vaguely remembered that she had a child. But i didn't remember my cousin's name, she lived all the way in Oregon. While I was stuck in this shitty neighborhood in Maine.

Well, that's nice. How about Arnold?

I don't like Terminator.

Grr... How about Garfield?

Are you messing with me, or do you just have the worst taste in names? I honestly don't know which.

Whatever... How about Connor?

I repeat: I don't like Terminator.

You really annoy me.

How hard is it to think of a name?

Well, if you're so impatient, why don't you think of one?

I will, then.

Fine.

Fine.

Let's hear it.

How's Tyler?

Eh, why not? Sure.

So, I'm Cara, and you're Tyler.

Okay.

Good. How long have we been talking?

Um... About an hour and a half.

Wow. Well, my hand hurts, so I'm going to go eat dinner and take a break from talking to you.

Okay, sure. But before you go.

Yes?

What's your take on this whole thing? You know, being able to talk to each other through a book.

I pondered this for a minute. Then i answered.

You've seen the glyphs on the cover?

Yeah. So?

I think that this is magic. It's the most likely explanation.

Probably.

Well, I'm going now. Goodbye, Tyler.

Bye Cara.

(A/N HOLY SCHNICKE MY HAND HURTS.

But it was worth it.

darkfast, i hope you liked this chapter.

Now I'm going to bed.

No objections? Good. I wouldn't have listened anyways.

Good. Freaking. Night. People.

Please don't spam me with millions of comments saying i haven't updated this in weeks. I'm very well aware of that, thanks. -_-

Peace out.