# Chapter 3
After dinner, I went back up to my room to do a little reading. Before opening my book, I turned on some soft music, lit a couple of candles, and took a quick shower.
Walking back into my room, the atmosphere felt altered—it was as though all the happiness had been sucked out of the space once again. I felt a sudden chill, but since it was a cool fall night, I tried to think nothing of it. Still, the attic was now heavy with an unexplainable wave of grief and melancholy.
I put on my pajamas, got comfortable in bed, and picked up the story I had been reading. But for some reason, I just couldn't get that photograph out of my mind. I pulled out the music box and stared at the photo of the two smiling girls. That strange, heavy sadness washed over me even stronger this time. Being a skeptic, though, I shrugged it off as simple tiredness or a weird mood.
Reaching under my pillow, I pulled out the little journal and began to read. Exhausted from the day, the heavy emotions, and reading, I soon felt myself dozing off. I blew out the candles, set the music box on the nightstand, and drifted into a heavy sleep.
Just as I fell into a deep sleep, I began hearing what sounded like wind chimes. I pulled the pillow over my head, trying to drown out the noise. Then, all of a sudden, I heard a soft, sweet voice say, "Hello."
Underneath my pillow, I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. Even with my breath caught in my throat, my practical mind immediately scrambled for an answer, trying to tell myself it was just a vivid dream brought on by the creepy old house, or maybe a residual mechanism unwinding inside the music box.
I lay completely still in the dark, squeezing my eyes shut and waiting for the silence to return... but knowing deep down I was no longer alone.