The Little Black Book

Emily found the little black book inside of a desk drawer at the library. She had been studying late and was the only remaining patron.

There was an exam early the next morning that she was desperate to ace. Her grades had slipped in the beginning of the year, after the accident. She was starting to catch up, but was certain that without a passing grade, she would most likely have to repeat the course.

It was quiet in the library and Emily could hear the wind picking up outside, its howling getting louder. She had almost finished outlining the chapter when the ink blew out of her pen. It spilled all over the page, leaving smudge marks that made most of the words she’d written unrecognizable. Emily stared down in desperation, trying to reassure herself that she could still read it. She knew it was a lost cause as tears began to well in her eyes. Tearing the page out, she hurled it into the wastebin by her side.

Needing a break, she walked off to wander the stacks aimlessly. As she turned around a row of shelves, she noticed that a solitary desk lamp was left lit in the far corner of the library.

While heading over to switch it off, Emily thought to check the drawers. Her only pen just exploded, and she needed another one to finish with before she could head home. Studying in an empty house was a lot worse than studying in an empty library, she had been quick to learn.

Yanking open the top left drawer proved to be a bust. Pulling open the right one more slowly, she crossed her fingers. A pen rolled towards the front.

With a small smile on her face, Emily reached down to grab it. It was then that her fingers brushed against something smooth and cool to the touch. She pulled the drawer open all the way, and her eyes fell on a small, black, leather-bound notebook.

Emily swung the chair out that was nestled under the desk and sat. She removed the notebook from the drawer and held it gently in her lap. Running her fingers along the spine before opening it, she flipped through the pages at a glance. They were blank. Emily hesitated to put it back, figuring someone must have forgotten it. She debated adding it to her collection of journals while turning it over in her hands.

Deciding to keep it, she stood and tucked it under her arm. After slipping the pen into her pocket, she switched off the lamp and plunged herself into darkness.

Now at home, Emily stared down at a blank page. The fresh smell of the pages mixing with the musky scent of the book’s leather-bound cover was intoxicating to her. She put her pen to the paper and began her first entry. With her exam tomorrow sitting heavy on her shoulders, she wrote to her new journal how sincerely she wished to pass it.

-

“Emily, can I see you for a minute after class?”

Emily’s professor stopped her as she walked in. It had been a week since the exam.

“Oh, sure Ms. Davis.”

Emily sat in front of her teacher, waiting.

“Thank you for staying. I just wanted to sit with you and congratulate you in private.”

Emily’s eyebrows knit together.

“Congratulate me?” She bit her lip. “Wait, are you saying…?”

Ms. Davis flashed a dazzling smile. “You got an A! You passed the exam and the class, Emily.”

Emily was silent. Tears spilled from her eyes and started escaping down her cheeks.

Ms. Davis walked around the desk and put her arm around Emily, bringing her in for a hug.

“Oh honey, I hope these are tears of happiness.”

Emily sniffled and let out a small, reassuring laugh. “They are. I wasn’t sure I would have taken this class again if I’d failed.”

Sitting back down in her chair, Ms. Davis passed Emily a tissue.

“I’m so proud of you. And after everything you’ve been through, too. I’m really impressed. I’m sure Adam would have been really proud of you, too”

At the mention of her husband’s name, Emily fought off another threatening round of tears.

“Thank you.”

Her teacher began to shuffle and straighten the stack of tests in front of her.

“Now, I’m going to ask you not to tell any of the other students. I still have a few left to grade, but I couldn’t wait to tell you.”

Emily laughed again. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

-

With one hurdle behind her, Emily was at a loss for the next one she was facing. Her and her husband, Adam, had been in a car accident in the beginning of the year. A drunk driver had plowed through a red light, crashing into Adam’s side of the car while he had been driving. Emily awoke in the hospital a few hours later with the discovery she had gone from wife to widow.

All of her bills were laid out on the kitchen table. Her laptop was open and an Excel sheet titled “Bills & Budget” glared at her.

His untimely death had ultimately left her with more than just grief. Adam hadn’t named any beneficiaries for anything. Everything had to go through his estate, which she thankfully was now the official executrix for. The new short certificate awarding her the title was hanging up on the fridge.

Her new role didn’t allow for any control just yet. She needed to establish an estate account, but was still waiting on Adam’s EIN letter to arrive. Emily had tried to print the form offline, but with her many invalid attempts at registration, she now had to wait for a paper copy.

While anticipating the last piece of this morbid puzzle, her cash flow was running low. Very low. She depleted almost all of her meager savings to pay for his funeral and burial services. Emily was over her limits for several credit cards, and had negatively tipped the scales of her debt to income ratio.

If she didn’t magically find almost twenty grand to extend her graces until she could access Adam’s funds, she wouldn’t be able to keep their house. And with everything she’d already lost, she couldn’t bear to lose this, too.

Laying down in bed that night, Emily reached over to her nightstand to grab her new journal. Pausing, she took a moment to look at a picture of her and Adam. It was the two of them, arms wrapped around each other on their wedding day. She flipped the picture to face downwards on the nightstand and picked up the book. Opening it to the next blank page, she penned her stream of woes and financial struggles. This time, she told her journal how desperately she wished for that money.

-

The next day, Emily was pushing a cart up and down the aisles of a grocery store. With the few essentials she could afford, she started to head for check-out. On the way, Emily passed a lottery ticket vending machine and paused. Looking at the brightly colored scratch-offs displayed on the touch screen, one in particular caught her eye. In hot pink letters, the words, “Win Up To Twenty Thousand Dollars!” were bannered across the top.

Emily snorted and said to herself, “Just what I need.”

She started to shuffle away and stopped. Turning back, she walked determinedly to the machine and decided to press her luck.

“Screw it.”

She couldn’t believe it. She must have looked over the ticket at least a dozen times since having been home. But it proved to be futile, because her answer wasn’t changing.

There it was, a simple matching of a winning number in her numbers. And the prize shown below her new favorite number, seventeen, was her salvation.

Emily couldn’t stop her hands from shaking. She had to put the ticket down on the table. Standing up, she started pacing around her kitchen.

Thinking aloud, she said, “This is not the kind of luck I have. I mean, come on, Emily! You just magically win the exact amount of money that you -,” She stopped pacing.

Finishing her thought, she whispered, “wished for”.

She ran out of the kitchen and raced up the steps to her bedroom. Sitting innocently on her pillow was the little black notebook.

Emily walked slowly towards it, hesitant to pick it up. She was thinking about her exam. Yes, she had studied hard. It wasn’t totally shocking that she had passed, just a huge relief. But for twenty grand to then fall into her lap…

She opened the book tentatively, flipping through the pages after her entries more carefully this time. Finding them all blank, she was about to set it down and walk away with the hopeful notion that she was being crazy. For once, maybe things were just going well - a refreshing change. Then she got to the last page.

In big, bold, block-style handwriting, the words ‘Be Careful What You Wish For’ were written.

It was 11:52PM, as told by the glare of her alarm clock across the bedroom. Emily sat with the notebook open in front of her. She had just finished another entry, and it was only one sentence. The picture of Emily and Adam on their wedding day had been returned to its upright position.

With her heart thumping heavily against her chest, Emily shut the book and set it on the nightstand. After turning off her lamp, she slipped under the covers and closed her eyes.

It was now 2:37AM. The front door that was left unlocked opened with a soft whoosh. Emily was wide awake.

Leaden footsteps treaded the stairs, taking a pause on each one. She was turned on her side, staring at the photo of her and Adam, with her back towards the bedroom door.

The footsteps grew louder as they neared. They stopped outside of her room.

She kept her eyes glued to the picture.

The bedroom door opened, slowly.

A putrid scent filtered into the air. The footsteps shuffled into the room, pausing as the bedroom door closed. Then, they continued forward, stopping by the bedside.

Emily felt the bed dip beside her as someone laid down. The smell of rot and decay crept into her nostrils.

Her eyes were still on the picture when an arm with graying, tattered flesh slowly wrapped around her midsection.

A gravelly voice whispered in her ear, “Honey, I’m home.”