Chapter 121 - Warnings

Eleanor's P.O.V

"Hello there." A voice peirced my ears as I jumped to my feet, slowly turning around to look at the owner of the voice.

A tall, shadowy figure stood before me, its face completely obscured by the darkness. "Who are you?" I asked nervously, my heart racing in my chest.

"I am the collector," the voice replied, "and I have been waiting for you."

"The collector?" I repeated, confused.

"Yes," the shadowy figure replied, "I collect memories, and I believe you have something of mine."

"I don't understand," I said, my hands shaking with fear.

"The journal," the collector said, holding out his hand. "I believe it belongs to me."

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. But then, suddenly, the memory came rushing back to me. That brown, coarse sheet, the signature scrawled across it.

It wasn't mine. It had never been mine. I had taken it. Yet, why did it feel like it was mine? Like I was the owner of it? Why did it feel so familiar?

"I'm sorry," I said, handing the jou