My name is Lydia Marie, and I am now the weirdest girl at my school.

On the outside, many would say I look like an ordinary teenage girl. On the inside, there's something more. It wasn't always like that. It all started on my thirteenth birthday, when I got a special visit from my great-great-grandfather.

I know what you're thinking. How is it even possible for my great-great-grandfather to be alive? Well, that's a good question. When I was four years old, my mom told me he had died. I even went to his funeral. So, how the heck did he visit me when I was thirteen?

I was asleep in my bedroom, early in the morning, when someone knocked on my window. To get this straight, I'm not a morning person. I'm also a light sleeper. My room is on the third floor of my house. It has a huge balcony, although there is no way to get to it from the outside. So, it couldn't have been one of my friends playing a trick on me. I don't remember what I was even thinking when I got up to open the French double doors. It was probably a psycho killer that just escaped from jail, and I was willingly walking to it. But, fortunately, it was not a killer.

Sorry to disappoint you, I'm not dead.

When I opened the doors, a single bluebird was sitting by the door. This is Michigan. There aren't bluebirds here in the winter. But, sure enough, there was a bluebird on my balcony. I tried shooing it away, but instead of flying into the sky, it flew into my room. More specifically, it flew onto my bed.

Again, I tried to shoo it away. But, suddenly it lit up, and there was no longer a bluebird there. In its place was a man that looked to be about twenty years of age. It called out one word, "Lydia."

My heart started pounding through my chest, and I couldn't breathe. I suddenly had a feeling that I was still asleep, and dreamt the whole thing. But, the man said again, "Lydia."

This time I asked breathlessly, "How-how do you know my name?" I stuttered four times through that simple sentence, and my voice cracked twice. I was so scared of this man. He was looking at me the same way my brother looked at me. With recognition. I had no idea who this was, but I was pretty sure he knew everything about me.

"Lydia, I'm your great-great-grandfather," he replied to my question.

He was lying, I was sure of it. My great-great-grandfather had died when I was four. I saw him lying in his coffin. This man, also, looked nothing like my great-great-grandfather.

But, as if he could read my mind, he said, "Lydia, I never died. I never died because I was never alive in the first place. Well, not technically. The man you saw at my funeral, well it wasn't me. But, right now I don't have much time to explain everything. I need you to do something for me."

He saw that I was at a loss for words, so, he continued, " I need you to take this box." He pulled a small blue box with a red ribbon tied around it from his coat pocket. "Hide it away. I'm telling you Lydia, listen to me. You must never open this box. Nothing good can come from this. Hide it away, and forget about it."

This caught my attention. Why would my great-great-grandfather, who I thought had died, give me a box that I can't even open? And all he wants me to do is forget about it?

Well, he obviously doesn't know me very well. "What's in the box?"

"Lydia, I cannot tell you. But, promise me, you will never open this box. Can I trust you?"

"Um…," I honestly didn't know if he could, but I eventually said, "Yes, yes you can trust me. I will never open that box."

I wish I could tell you that I kept my promise. But, I didn't. Looking back now, I think I should have. It was too tempting though. When he left I sat back down on my bed, and pulled the red ribbon off the box. Slowly and very gently I took the lid off. What I saw was shocking. That's because there was nothing in the box.

Why did my dead great-great-grandfather give me an empty box that he made me promise not to open? What's so bad about an empty box?

Let me give you some advice. If you're dead great-great-grandfather tells you to do something, do it. I wish I had because right before I closed the box again, it lit up.

It lit up in the exact same way the bluebird lit up before it turned into my great-great-grandfather. Now, in its place was a book. A very old, big, book. The pages were cut in places and the binding was wearing off. I opened the front cover of the book and there laid an envelope. There was a name written on the envelope. That name was Lydia Marie. I opened the envelope and inside laid a letter folded twice over. I unfolded it and started to read.

Dear Lydia Marie,

If this letter should ever come into your possession, I hope you can follow my directions, and become who you are supposed to be.

My dearest Lydia, it has come to my knowing that your great-great-grandfather will try to stop you from ever receiving this book. That means he knows who and what you are.

Lydia, you are a sorcerer. Or in other words, a witch. This book will teach you everything there is to know. You should be expecting more instruction along the way.

Be careful, this book can never fall into the wrong hands. Always keep it close to you. Keep it in the blue box your grandfather gave you. He didn't know it, but only you can receive what is put inside the box. He also didn't know that he gave you the book. So this must remain a secret. He knows of the powers of the box, but he doesn't know of what use they will be to you. Keep the book with you at all times in the blue box. The book will show you they way to go.

Until we finally meet,