Chapter Fifty-Seven

It was a teenager's room, it was sure of it, or at least, it was messy enough to be one.

There were dark curtains strung up in front of the windows that only let in a sliver of light into the room. From that small beam, it could only see piles upon piles of books. Some were fiction, some non-fiction, some even were library books, but a third, if not half were notebooks. It dropped to the ground and touched one of these notebooks. It couldn't really touch anything in this world, but it could sometimes get a glimpse of the emotions or memories associated with it.

And this notebook's spirit was infused with sadness. And pain. And anger. It stood and found another notebook. It was much the same.

A lost soul, that was the master of the room.

There came a click and the sound of feet walking. There were greetings given and returned then the door to the room opened and in came that lost soul.