Moving into terror The ride was long and to make it worse my little sister Kayla (who is eighteen months old) cried the whole time. And my brother talked to me which wasn't so bad. Jake is ten. Rosie was not a problem. She sat in the corner the whole car ride. Rosie is our step sister. She is younger than us, about 8 and she is really annoying. She blames us for every thing. If she doesn't like what we did she'll go running to her daddy. Chris is her dad and he is just as annoying. He will always chose sides with his daughter and also blames us for stuff. Chris married my mom a few months ago. My dad and mom got divorced a few years ago.My mom and Chris kept going on and on about their jobs and about national geographic crap like they always do. This couldn't get any worse. But it did. I was so used to the sunny skies in California. When I came to this quiet town in Kentucky I knew this would be miserable. The shops we passed looked like old saloons and the gas station looked ancient. All the houses looked dreary and they were decaying. It was not appealing. A few minutes later we drove into our new driveway and I looked up at the house. It was better than the dump across the street but still bad. I grabbed my back pack and suitcase out of the trunk and headed up the porch steps. They creaked beneath my feet and the door made a loud screech when I opened it. Inside the house it smelled terrible. The fridge had old food rotting in it. The carpet had blood stains. That's weird I thought to myself. Why would there be blood stains in the house? The dining room walls had holes on them and the carpet was coming up. This house needs a lot of work I told my brother who was now standing next to me. We were almost halfway up the stairs when Chris came in and told me to carry Rosie's bag. "Why can't she do it?!" I said really annoyed. "Katie I'm going to give you to the count of five to get down here and carry up Rosie's bag." He said obviously mad. I did not move. He started to count down. 5...4...3...2... I walked down the stairs to get Rosie's stupid bag and then walked back to my brother. Inside my room the wallpaper was peeling and there were lose floorboards. One of them was all the way off, sitting in the corner. I walked over to jakes room and it was not any better than mine. "This house is a wreck!!! He said very unpleased. Rosie's room was across from ours. She got the best room and I was sure it was her dad Chris who let her have it. Her bed was already set up and all her furniture was there. Her floor had an area rug and her walls were painted her favorite color, pink. "This is so unfair!!!" I whispered to my brother. "Her room is all set up. Why isn't ours." "Why do you think?" Jake said in an annoyed voice. I went into my room to take a nap and jake went into his room to set up his desk and shelf. When I woke up my desk was in a different corner than it had been when I went to sleep. That's really weird. I went downstairs and saw my mom cooking her tuna casserole and trying to take care of Kayla. I looked over and saw Chris sitting on the couch eating a bag of potato chips. What a lump I thought. Apparently I said it out loud because my mom accused me of it a few seconds later. I saw jake playing with a garter snake that he caught out front. After dinner I went upstairs and I got a strange feeling that someone was watching me. I turned around but did not see anything. I walked to my room but heard the sound again. I whipped around... Still nothing there. I got in bed thinking I was just tired... Later I woke up to jakes opening door. I got out of bed to see what he was doing. My door creaked open and I stepped onto the cold wood floor. Down the hall I saw a shadowy figure. "Jake what are you doing!?!?" No answer all I heard was him humming a scary tune. Hm hm hm hm hm hm hmmmm hmmmmmmm. Hm hm hm hm hm hm hmmmm hmmmmmmm. I walked toward him in a slow pace. "Jake what are you doing up?" Still no answer. He turned to look at me his face was flushed. His eyes were bloodshot and he talked in a possessed voice. I ran to my room and hid under my covers. I heard his door shut. The next morning I woke up and walked downstairs. Nobody was up yet. I poured myself a bowl of cereal. When I went outside to get the mail there was a package. It was addressed to me. I went inside and opened it. Inside was a diary. I opened it and inside was a little girls hand writing. The date was about seventy years ago. Strange. I looked through it and found