An hour passed. Davis woke to the silence of the tamed weather. She had a nice nap. Upon waking, the notebook was in front of her, with that same page open and with the same question. Who knew she was gonna get the answer to her question? To her astonishment, she saw the page and witness some words appearing just below where she wrote. In a different handwriting it materialized, and in no time the answer was forth her- 'Your muse'
Christine was amazed. "My muse?," she wondered. She quickly held the pen and wrote another one – 'Why are you here?'
For a while there was no response. The girl thought this was only for once. But for one more time she was surprised when she saw letters emerging again in a vague manner, answering her this question too.
'Because you are here.'
'What do you want from me?' wrote Christine.
And answer came again: 'Nothing'
'Leave me alone' – Christine simply stated. She waited for a while but there wasn't any response this time. She looked up and down through the page still having doubts if those words and sentences had really appeared through some necromancy. 'Your muse', she looked at that phrase repeatedly. Davis began to ponder, if this is what gave her ideas. For a moment she was lost, and forgot about the real conversation that was going on. And then there was a sudden blow of air out of somewhere and the flickering flame vanished again. Christine picked up the match and lit it. Once more everything became apparent, and she saw there was a reply to her last question – 'I will not'.
Christine had already been scared enough to be terrified anymore. Neither this phantom was hurting her nor was it clarifying its intentions. All it gave her was this pathetic suspense. Further, it said it was her muse, so Davis's mind was caught up thinking over it. Perhaps, she subconsciously had a sense that the spirit was harmless.
'Reveal yourself', Christine dared to write without thinking of consequences, if there could be any.
Nothing happened, except for the silence that had surrounded which was much worse. Now this silence was making the situation awkward, and itself began to kill her slowly.
My god, what have I done! she thought.