I live in Rye, NY. Let me tell you about the Rye library. I’m a bookworm, and so is my mother, so we spend a lot of time here. It’s a very old building. I think it was built in the late 1800s. It’s a pretty cool place.

One day, I was in library at six o’clock pm. It was an ordinary Saturday in October, so it was dark. There was a lightning storm going on outside. Suddenly, all the lights went off. I ran to the romance section which had a staircase leading to the basement. I ran down the steps to see if I could find a flashlight, because all I had now was the light of my cell phone which kept turning off making me open and close my phone again and again.

I kept going farther and farther underground. It seemed like the staircase would never end. Finally, I made to where the staircase ended. Then, the lights upstairs went on. But this room was not it with electricity, as if nobody had been down here since the 1840s or something. Using my cell phone light, I found a candlestick and some matches. I lit the candle, which seemed to fill the tiny room with light. Then I looked down. The thing I saw was a dead body!

The body was of a teenage boy, about 18 or so. It was wearing old-fashioned clothes, like the kind you would see in old movies. I immediately called 911 and left the basement. After a huge night, I finally went to bed. I woke up to find out that the county police detectives had traced the DNA back to 1894. This guy had died 112 years ago! His name was Charlie Higgens. But there was something else that the scientists had found, the boy’s diary. The entire diary was published in the newspaper. It was short because the boy died soon after writing it. Here is what it said: