"What is taking so long, buddy." Mischief said in a troubled voice.

"Don't be impatient, my friend. These things take time," Mayhem chastised it. Their time would come and the old ones would pay alongside the humans.

As if reading the line of Mayhem's thoughts, Mischief said, "The old ones make me uneasy. They know too much. They think too much. They are trouble of the worst kind. What? Why are you laughing?"

"You know they call us the troublemakers," Mayhem smirked, "I just find it funny that you'd call them trouble. I guess we're trouble for each other."

"You're beginning to talk like them, buddy," Mischief complained.

"No, never that!"

#

In all my worrying about Mischief and Mayhem, I completely forgot about the journal. It was only then I realized how big of a mystery it was. Now that I knew about aliens, I wondered if my journal was also an alien object. Perhaps, Nate or Fatim would know more about it and solve the mystery of why words vanished after I wrote them. I remembered how fondly the two troublemakers had talked about the journal. A doorway to another world. That's what they had said. Could it be that? Or were they playing some kind of a trick on me? Perhaps, it was time for me to share his secret with the world. After all, not everything was meant to be a secret, and not every secret should be kept for long.

Looking back, I remembered how it had one day magically appeared in front of me. At the time, I hadn't questioned its appearance. I was only a child, and the mystery surrounding it had me in its grasp. As someone without close friends, I enjoyed talking to a book knowing it wouldn't betray my trust. I wasn't a child anymore, and it was time to rediscover all those vanished words. And found out if my trust in it was misplaced or not.

I went into my room and took the journal from the drawer where I had put it the other night. I was writing in it a lot these days. There was so much to write about, after all. All the stories about the old ones, the troublemakers, the beautiful spaceship I saw, and all the things I had come to know that I was unaware of before. I also talked a lot about Fatim. I remembered how I dreamt about her and how much I admired her, then and now. A lot had happened in the past few weeks, and I had been staying up late every night, writing these things down, all the while seeing my words vanish within the pages.

Absentmindedly, I flipped through them and found them just as blank as they ever were. I closed it and stared at the title, and it was just as foreboding as it was all those years ago. I recalled making up stories to write about. My mother used to love my stories. She once told me what an amazing author I would become one day. I remembered how my father used to smile at that, and my siblings would laugh. Everyone would joke about how I got creativity from my mother. But no one would have believed it if I told them that my words, once written, would vanish within these pages. The journal held so many memories, both happy and sad. It was a part of me, and I was curious to unravel it, even if it meant unraveling myself in the process.

With all these things whirling around in my mind, I picked up my phone to call Fatim, "Hello?"

"Hi," came a sleepy reply, "Who is this?"

She must have picked up the phone without seeing the caller ID, or maybe she never saved my number. The thought rattled me, but I ignored it and said, "It's me, Waheeb."

"Waheeb, why are you calling me so late at night? Is everything okay?" She sounded more alert, and worry etched her tone.

"Please, calm down," I chuckled. Nate was right about her because she was a worrier. But I felt bad. In my excitement, I hadn't considered the lateness of the hour. "Nothing bad has happened. I just wanted to talk to you."

"Right now?"

"Yes, now that you are up. By the way, I apologize for being inconsiderate. I didn't even think of the time. I'm truly sorry that I woke you up." Feeling a pang of guilt, I reminded myself she was already up, and I could do nothing about it.

"Oh, it's alright. I don't mind the waking-up part. But you scared me that's all. I guess we are all on edge these days. But we can talk. Do you have something specific in mind, or is this a social call?"

"The thing is," I hesitated. Even though I was talking to a woman from another planet, talking about a magic journal felt strange. Would she believe me or laugh in my face?

"What?" She seemed impatient.

Too uncomfortable to continue and speak my thoughts aloud, I said instead, "I don't feel like talking over the phone. Can we meet?"

"You want me to come over?" The shock was evident from her tone, but yet again, I couldn't take back my words.

Would she consider me odd for asking to meet late at night? Oh God, I wasn't well-versed in the art of socializing. What was the right thing to do? I was interested in her, but right now we weren't seriously dating. I shouldn't have asked her to come over. Mustering up my courage, I said, "Will that be okay? Or I can come to you."

"I'm staying at Nate's place. Let's not disturb him at this time. I'll come to you."

"Perfect," I was happy that she agreed and not the least bit guilty that I was making her leave the comfort of her bed. Well, sometimes a little selfishness was acceptable, or so I told myself.

"Okay, I'll be there in fifteen," she said and hung up.

Now, all I needed to do was wait for her. After about twenty minutes, the doorbell rang, and I sprinted to open the door.

"So, what was so important that you woke me up from my slumber," she said playfully. "And asked me to come over."

"There is a lot on my mind these days. I'm not sleeping much, and sometimes I forget that other people do. Is that strange?" I asked sheepishly, hoping she wouldn't run for the hills after knowing my eccentricities.

"It's okay, I don't mind." She smiled.

Relieved to hear that, I smiled back and said, "I wanted to show you something."

"I hope something good?" Raising her eyebrows, she looked at me questioningly.

"I'm not sure," I said in all seriousness as I showed her the journal.

"What's this?" She took it from me and flipped through it. Confusion marred her face as she saw the blank pages.

"It's my journal."

"No, it's not," An odd expression came over her, and she looked troubled. She looked it over, read the title, and opened it again to look inside. "Where did you get this?" She asked at last. Her expressions were unreadable, and I wondered what she was thinking.

"It came to me," I tried to explain as best as I could. "When I was little, I found it one day. And I have had it since then. I used to write a lot but gave up the habit when life became difficult to handle. Recently, I have started writing again."

"No wonder Mischief and Mayhem were able to connect to you," she said as if in awe.

"What exactly is it?"

"This," she said mysteriously, "is the key to solving all our problems."

"Okay?" I didn't know what she was talking about, but she was enjoying this. "Are you going to tell me or should I just guess?"

"I don't know. Do you want to hazard a guess?"

"I know it's some kind of doorway. I also already guessed that this book is the reason why Mischief and Mayhem found me. They knew about it and were excited to see it, from what I could tell."

"Anyone would be excited to see it, Waheeb. This is the most powerful book in the universe. I can't believe you had it this whole time, and you didn't think to tell us. This book, right here, has all the answers we could ask for." She was getting excited by the minute.

I liked it. She was even more beautiful when she talked about something that mattered to her. She was such a passionate person, and I was awestruck.

"Hello? Where did you go?" She waved her hand in front of my eyes.

"Sorry, I got distracted. You were saying?"

"I'm saying," she said with a radiant smile playing on her lips, "Let's go find Nate and Zaroon. And then save our planet."

With a sense of wonder and anticipation, they grabbed their coats and headed out to the night, ready to face whatever adventure awaited them.