Entry 18: Inside the Tree – “Hallways” – August 19th, 2023 – 7:52 PM
The tree is affecting us more now. The brain fog I mentioned earlier is heavier, making it hard to focus. Writing in here helps.
We turned down the pathway we figured was Harper Street, which should lead us to… Now I’m having trouble remembering.
GET TO THE MUSEUM
There, now I won’t forget.
– Sasheen
Entry 19: Inside the Tree – Replica Museum – August 19th, 2023 – 8:03 PM
We’re at the museum—but why?
– Sasheen
Entry 20: Inside the Tree – Replica Museum – August 19th, 2023 – 8:05 PM
Another wave of deja vu. We’ve done this before. Maybe it’s in the log…
We got trapped in the angler because Maisel touched the gold nugget.
Could the gold nugget that Maisel touched have been the same one as the angler’s heart?
There’s something off about the museum.
I feel it, too, but it might be the tree affecting us.
This is unbearable. I can’t keep my thoughts straight… What were we talking about?
Doesn’t it feel like something is missing here?
You mean besides whatever the angler is doing to our minds?
Yeah, like there is something different about the museum.
Hmmm, the layout’s the same as before
What about the displays? Don’t they seem kind of… lifeless?
You would say that. You have no appreciation for art.
I could see it now, or rather, I could feel it…
No, he’s right; something about these paintings is… wrong.
Murlocke’s eyes were unfocused.
What are we doing here again? Shouldn’t we be getting home?
It’s way past dinner… My mom is going to kill me.
Maisel was intently focused on the paintings.
I see it now. All these paintings are about the town’s history, right? Well, wasn’t this town founded because of a gold rush?
Not founded. It existed before.
Despite the near overwhelming brain fog, my subconscious kicked into autopilot, my brain pulling these facts out from deep within me.
The gold rush just kicked off a period of intense economic expansion. If you want to get technical—
Well, if the gold rush is so important, why do none of these displays show it? A lot of them have miners but no gold. This one looks like it has a bunch of miners displaying an empty box. Why would they—
All of the gold is missing! Do you think the angler can understand us? Could it have moved its own heart?
Or it was a reaction to Maisel touching it… Maybe it works like a light switch.
Not all the gold is missing. Look at that display with the shovel. The handle is golden. That’s easy. I’ll touch the shovel, and pronto, the gold nugget will be back, and we’re out.
She reached for the display but stopped herself.
That is, if you both agree it’s a good idea?
Let’s think about this. Was there a specific way you touched the nugget?
How many ways are there to touch a gold nugget? I guess I sorta poked it.
Can you try to remember?
Doubt started to flood my mind. What if this were yet another trap from the tree? I couldn’t seem to focus— ARRRGH. MY BRAIN WAS SCREAMING, ‘WHY CAN’T I FOCUS?’
I’m trying, but I feel cloudy. I’m pretty sure I just poked it like this.
Maisel mimed, prodding it with her pointer finger.
Why don’t I check the log? Pass me the journal, and I’ll see if you wrote it down.
It’s my turn to write in it. I’ll check it.
I’m not going to write in it. I just want to look.
Maisel reached for the journal. I pulled back, but it was too late. She already had a hold on it.
I’ll check it, Maisel. It’s my job!
I yanked it backwards, but she didn’t loosen her grip.
Guys, come on, we have to stay focused.
Murlocke tried to step between us.
Just give it to me!
Murlocke was between us now, trying to separate the two of us. I continued to tug on it, with Maisel not letting up. With a desperate yank, I pulled it backwards, and then, everything happened at once. Maisel let go, and I flew backwards, hitting a display behind me—the journal still in my hand. As Maisel let go, she elbowed Murlocke in the eye. He stumbled backwards, clutching his face. Maisel, still in shock, was crouched beside the gold nugget display.
The blood was drained from Maisel’s face— She was white as the winter sky.
Murlocke, I’m…
She was having trouble getting the words out as she got to her feet. Her legs wobbled uncontrollably. To steady herself, she grabbed hold of the shovel.
I’m sorry—
Click.
Then everything went dark, and it felt like I was falling.
– Sasheen
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