The Lost Journal of Erika Traynor

By Ceara Comeau

No one really knows how the war began or why. It was just always going on, at least it had been that way for three hundred years. Most people were convinced that it was the way of life and nothing could change. Except for cousins John and Riley who believed the war was not what it seemed. Unfortunately, they had no way to prove it. With a lot of searching, they came across an unusual treasure. It was a long fogotten journal whose secrets revealed the cause and end to a senseless war.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781329516250

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The Lost Journal of Erika Traynor

The Lost Journal of Erika Traynor

By Ceara Comeau

Copyright © 2015 Ceara Comeau

Published by Lulu.com

ISBN 978-1-329-40306-2

eBook ISBN 978-1-329-51625-0

August 2014

I’ve never been really good at writing my thoughts and feelings down. I suppose it’s because I didn’t think I would ever have a need to, that is, until now. My life has completely turned upside down. Everything I thought I knew about the world, I didn’t. But I guess that’s just how life works: constant twists and turns, just to keep you on your feet. But, enough of my procrastinating. The story I’m about to tell you was never supposed to happen. Well, part of it was planned; the other part was a complete mistake. A mistake that I made and truly regret. I don’t remember the exact dates of these events, but I’ll do my best to give you a timeline.

I guess I should start by telling you who I am. Truth is, I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’ve gone by so many different aliases through the past few years that my real name and identity seem like they were just a dream, a figment of my imagination. But, for the sake of argument, I’ll tell you the name that the people in this story knew me as. My name is Erika Traynor and to protect the identity of those in this story, their names have been changed as well.

My adventures really began when I was sixteen. I’d always been different, but I had never quite understood why. I had a mom, a dad, and aside from my twin brother, we were a typical family. We were all pretty close. Our family life was pretty relaxed and we all enjoyed games, family fun, and travel-you know, the usual family stuff. We rarely had any arguments. The only ones that really came up were about me and my gifts. You see, I’m kind of an anomaly. I know that sounds pretty vague, but I’m not really sure what else to call myself. Titles never meant much to me. But to satisfy people’s curiosity, I use the term gifted. I’ve had people call me a psychic medium (which is probably a more accurate term), a prophetess, and unfortunately a witch. All I know is that I have gifts, gifts that I couldn’t entirely understand or control. My dad never talked about my gifts. He tried to pretend they didn’t exist and that I was in my own delusional world. My mom, on the other hand, fully accepted them. She was fascinated with what I could do, but I knew even she couldn’t quite grasp what it really was. My brother was a completely different story. Out of everyone, he seemed the most worried about me. He never denied I had gifts, but every time I would use them, he had this look about him: his face would contort into something, almost like he was in pain. I could never tell if he felt bad for me or if he was just ashamed that I was his sister. I guess that doesn’t really matter now though.

When I was sixteen, I was kidnapped by a group of mysterious, dangerous people. I remember walking home from school with my brother. We were joking around and talking about what we were going to do for Halloween since it was coming up in a few days. That next moment happened so quickly, it took me years to fully remember it. A large, black SUV rolled up to the curb and then screeched to a halt. Two strong men in black suits jumped out, grabbed me, and dragged me into the car. I was screaming for my brother, but he just stood there, staring at me. His face did that contortion thing again, and I knew in that second that he was expecting this, that he had set me up and he let them kidnap me. I didn’t know what became of my family. My kidnappers isolated me from the outside world, my family included. It tore me apart.

From that moment on, I became a pawn in the hands of the government. It was a top secret division, one that even the FBI and CIA didn’t know about. In fact, I don’t think it was even a legal division. These people used my gifts to solve cases that they couldn’t. At first it wasn’t all that bad, aside from the fact that they made my family think that I was dead. But as time went by, the cases got more intense and I began to see what they were really doing. Over the years, I saw them use other people with different gifts. I realized that they didn’t appreciate us for who we were, they merely saw us as tools to be used and eventually thrown away. If one of them made a mistake, well, let’s just say they ‘disappeared.’

Even years later, the government made sure that I never left their sight. I was their prisoner forever. Sure, they provided me with everything I needed. Heck, they gave me things I didn’t need and spoiled me like crazy. But that didn’t change the fact that I detested them. I knew exactly what they wanted; they wanted me until the day I died. They even gave me ‘friends.’ Truthfully, my ‘friends’ thought that I was a freak and only stayed with me for the money. The government was actually paying them to watch me. I couldn’t breathe at all during these years. But when this case came up, the case I’m about to tell you-I finally felt free. I was fed up with all of their orders, demands, and threats. It was at this time that I finally fought back.

Well, like some epic stories, mine began with a simple, mundane meeting. I was called in to Headquarters. Even to this day, I still don’t know exactly where it is. I got out of the large, government issued SUV and stepped into the muggy August morning. I hadn’t yet had my coffee-the only substance that really got me up in the mornings. I looked up at the massive skyscraper, squinting as the sun’s rays bounced off the pristine windows and glared in my eyes. I had a weird feeling about this day, one that I honestly couldn’t shake. I stepped into the cool, clean building and was immediately overwhelmed by the powerful negativity that filled the air. My suspicions were growing and my heart raced as I was led into the elevator. There was silence. My ‘bodyguard’ reached over and pressed the tenth floor button. As we ascended, I glanced at him from my peripheral vision. He was standing tall and unmovable. His sunglasses were still on, hiding his eyes. I never understood why agents wore them inside, it never made them look cooler, just stupid. I never bothered making small talk with these agents. Their only job was to watch and protect me. Extra heavy on the watch, though. When the elevator reached the tenth floor, I followed the agent down a long, beautifully designed hallway. It seemed almost too gaudy for them, but they always did like fancy things that they shouldn’t really have. The pressure of the negativity almost swallowed me as we reached the wooden double doors. I took a deep breath, not wanting them to know I was afraid or that I was on to them.

The doors opened automatically. I quickly straightened my posture and held my head high. No matter what they were throwing me into, I wasn’t going to show any submission. I knew that they needed me and I was using that to my advantage. I walked in as courageously as I could, despite the fact that my heart was almost jumping out of my chest. I just hoped no one could hear it. Everyone stood up as I entered the room, all eyes on me. I know they were just doing this to show me respect and how much they appreciated me, but that was most definitely not the case. It was all just a psychological game. They wanted me to think that I was one of them, not a prisoner, but it never worked. I sat down at the oval oak table in an empty seat across from the person in charge. He had black hair, brown eyes, and a constant five o’clock shadow shaping his jaw. His dark hair made his light complexion look inhumanly pale. He was skinny, never seeming to gain a pound. I never knew his real name, I was just told to call him Peterson. One of the most generic names in the book. I quickly glanced around the table and noticed all of the suits and their expressions. They were all afraid of something and I reveled in their fear. It put a smile on my face that they were finally vulnerable, or at least it appeared that way. I leaned back in the chair and put my feet up on the table, the corners of my mouth turning up into a smirk.

You know why you’re here, said Peterson.

I rolled my eyes. This sounded like the beginning of a poorly done soap opera. Then I replied, No duh. This isn’t my first time around the block, remember.

Peterson shook his head a little and sighed, We have another case for you. This time it won’t be so easy.

Dude, when is it ever easy? Oh right, it’s always easy for you because you never lift a finger, I scoffed, a hint of malice tinting my tone.

I could see the anger fixed on his face. He had had enough of me and my remarks, but I knew that he couldn’t really do anything about it and so did he. We continued to stare at each other for a few more moments.

You’re right, Erika. That’s why we need you; you’re the only one who can help us with this case. We’re desperate, he replied, his face and tone softening.

This was where I started getting annoyed. They always did this to me, in fact, I pretty much had this exact conversation memorized by now. I knew all their moves, and, unfortunately, they knew all of mine.

I crossed my arms and brought my feet to the floor, Fine, but we do it my way this time.

But we have been doing things your way, grumbled an agent.

I chuckled, Um, no you haven’t. You let me think I’m doing it my way but then you swing in, change everything on me, and take all the credit. And let’s not have a repeat of the last case. I don’t feel like cleaning up anymore blood.

I made eye contact with Peterson and narrowed my eyes. He knew what I meant and he knew I was right. We had this strange understanding, despite our many differences and utter dislike for each other.

Let’s cut to the chase then, shall we? said another person to my right.

I turned my head and saw a young man. He had light brown wavy hair, green eyes, and from what I could see, he was pretty skinny as well. He gave me a small, nervous smile. I could tell he was just a wannabe agent; I also saw that he didn’t have it in him either. I looked back at Peterson, jerking my thumb at the kid as I asked, What’s this?

It was now Peterson’s turn to chuckle as he said, That is your partner for this case.

I laughed and said, Don’t you mean my babysitter?

Why would you think that? he asked innocently, We just want to make sure that you have the best assistance possible during this case.

I narrowed my eyes again, mostly in concentration.You still don’t trust me, do you?

What should that matter? If the case gets solved, trust isn’t much of an issue, now is it? said Peterson, trying to pry into my mind.

It was now my turn to heave a heavy sigh. I wasn’t going to get out of having the babysitter, What’s the case?

So glad you asked, said Peterson as he took some pictures out of a manila folder, You will be going to college for this case. But not just any college: you will be attending Blakewood University. Only the elite are allowed to attend, so we had to pull a few strings to get you in.

Ouch, I muttered.

Peterson continued, Your major will be law. There is a strict dress code at Blakewood. Everyone wears the color of their major. For you, that will be black. Everyone is watched by a group called the Guides and you will have to report to them from time to time. They are the only ones in Blakewood who know about you.

Isn’t one babysitter enough? I asked, growing impatient. What’s so special about this case that I’m being watched like a hawk?

You will soon see. There have been many supernatural phenomena occurring at this University and to eliminate the possibility of word getting out, we have been asked to send someone in, preferably undercover. I’m sure you and Damien will do a great job.

I looked over at the kid who just smiled at me; he was so new to this whole thing that I didn’t think he even knew what he was getting himself into.

What’s your excuse for him? I asked casually.

Oh, he’s been going to the school for about a year now. He will be your guide, of sorts, said another agent.

Okay. What do I say our relation is?

Peterson had a wicked smile on his face, Well, you two sort of look alike. I suppose you could say he is your brother?

I quickly rose to my feet and leaned over the table. My face was inches away from Peterson. Everyone froze. I slammed my fist on the table and yelled, Don’t you evermention that again. No one can replace him, not ever!

Peterson shot back, It’s amazing that you still care about that traitor.

I continued to stare at him as anger fumed inside of me. I jerked back from him and shoved all of the paperwork off of the table. I stalked toward the door and then stopped. I looked at Damien, who seemed pretty alarmed by my reaction. His face went pale when he noticed that I was looking at him.

Start packing, kid, was all I could muster before storming out of the room.

Peterson always knew how to get to me. I never knew how he did it, he just had this way about him. I knew that my brother had betrayed me, but there was always something deep within me that wanted to believe that it was all just a big mistake.

That night, I couldn’t help but feel that something was off. There was just something about this case that bothered me more than any of the others. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the way everyone reacted when I entered the room, or if it was the case itself. Peterson wasn’t telling me everything, but then again he never did. So now it was my job to figure out what he was really hiding and why I was brought in. The next day I was put on a private government plane. I found it odd, all of this extra protection. It didn’t make any sense to me until much later.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t alone on this plane. Sure, there was the pilot, the co-pilot, and the stewardess, but there was also my new buddy, Damien. He was obnoxiously chilled out. He had over-sized headphones on, ones that took up half his head and he was banging on invisible drums, occasionally looking up at me and giving me a strange smile. I could tell that he was still nervous around me, but he didn’t seem to want to make an enemy out of me either. I tried returning the smile once when I saw him look at me, but I knew it wasn’t convincing. He wasn’t really focused on me, and