December 21, 2023 Aware that I can’t assist the lost souls by myself, I’ve been actively seeking help from paranormal experts, mediums, and psychics through various online platforms. My search has extended across Facebook, Reddit, and even the Darknet - a realm I’m familiar with due to my past as a private investigator working on missing persons and human trafficking cases. I aim to find someone capable of interpreting the messages I receive from my nightly visitors. Unfortunately, my efforts have mostly led me to groups preoccupied with minor phenomena like orbs (mere floating dust specks) and indistinct ghost-like images in photos, often the result of pareidolia, which is the tendency to perceive meaningful patterns or figures in random or vague visual information. These groups seem to shy away from genuine hauntings and other substantial paranormal occurrences. This reluctance makes me increasingly sad and responsible as I struggle to find assistance for my nocturnal visitors. My sense of duty grows, along with a deepening sense of despair, as I continue my quest to help them. At last, I received an intriguing call from a paranormal investigation team. Intrigued by the unusual dreams I’ve been having about Candle Face’s victims; they offered their expertise to help decipher them. We convened over a three-way video call, during which I detailed Candle Face’s lore and the unsettling dreams plaguing me. The team suggested a thorough investigation, proposing to explore my old Austin neighborhood and the notorious creek, a hotspot for Candle Face sightings. This investigative venture is slated for mid-to-late January, a prospect that intrigues and unnerves me. That night, I chose to sleep in the living room, a change from my usual routine of sleeping in the upstairs guest bedroom for the past half year. This sleeping arrangement allows my wife to sleep alone while recovering from surgery after surgery. My son, visiting for Christmas, took over the guest bedroom, where my ghostly visitors usually enter the house for their visits. To facilitate the potential visit of my nighttime guests, I left the kitchen light on. This created a shadow in the distant corner of the living room, serving as an entry point for any spirit if they decided to visit. As I drifted to sleep, the shadow in that corner seemed to dance along the walls, casting shadowy shapes that my tired eyes struggled to define. One of those shadows, nestled in the farthest corner, began to stir with a life of its own. As I lay on the brink of sleep, the shadow morphed and solidified into a figure—a spirit, appearing as a woman in her thirties, standing a striking 5 feet 8 inches tall. She approached the couch with a grace that defied the normal bounds of the physical world. “It’s my turn,” she announced softly, her voice echoing with a ghostly tone. Her story, she explained, was propelled to the forefront due to recent events. She revealed herself as a former paranormal investigator who had investigated the mysteries of Candle Face in the mid-2000s. Her presence was linked to my conversation with the paranormal investigators just the day before. She implored me not to pursue the investigation with the paranormal investigation team or at least to refrain from mockery. The spirit warned of danger, especially to the paranormal investigator, who adds a taste of comedy to the team’s investigations. She then expressed a desire for her family to find peace and for others to heed her warnings about investigating Candle Face too deeply. With her introduction complete, the room fell silent, and the spirit began to recount her story: As a paranormal investigator with a natural skepticism, I’ve always approached legends and ghost stories with a critical eye. My latest venture brought me to Austin, Texas, to explore the infamous legend of Candle Face, a supposed ghostly child said to haunt skeptics and non-believers. Armed with my equipment and a healthy dose of doubt, I was ready to debunk another myth. Over several nights, I attempted to summon Candle Face at various reputed locations. I tried Ben Howell Drive, the nearby creek, and Lady Bird Lake, where Candle Face is said to have drowned many of her victims. I used every method in the book, from traditional séances to modern technological setups, but to no avail. There was no sign of the ghostly child, mysterious occurrences, or unexplained phenomena. My conviction that Candle Face was nothing more than a local legend grew stronger with each failed attempt. Convinced of the story’s falsehood, I wrote a detailed blog post on my website. In it, I declared Candle Face a myth and mocked the legend for its lack of substance and ability to fool the masses. I went to bed that night feeling triumphant, having exposed another baseless ghost story. However, that night, everything changed. As I lay in my hotel room off Congress Avenue, the shadows in the corner began to shift and swirl. Paralyzed with fear, I watched as a figure emerged from the darkness. It was Candle Face, her charred form more terrifying than any description I had read. I couldn’t move or scream as she mocked me for my disbelief and for fearing what I sought to uncover. With a haunting laugh, she vanished, leaving me in shock. The following day, I saw that dozens had read my article. I contemplated correcting it to indicate that Candle Face is real, but my pride got in the way. “It’s too late,” I thought, “the damage is done.” Back home in San Antonio, the real nightmare began. Candle Face revisited me, this time in my own bedroom. She was furious that I hadn’t corrected my article. She promised a unique retribution: to create a story about me and distribute it to her believers, a scared paranormal investigator who became the haunted. She began to recite her story about me: The Hunter Becomes the Haunted Behold the tale of the skeptic who dared to doubt me. You sought to expose me, to unravel a mystery you deemed false. But now, the hunter becomes the haunted. You thought you were brave, seeking out shadows and spirits. Yet, when faced with me, your courage crumbled like ash. Watching you paralyzed with fear was amusing, contradicting your bold claims. I have decided your fate, dear paranormal investigator. Since you refused to correct your story, I shall create my own about you. Your story will be eternally haunting, and my image and laughter will constantly be in your mind. Each night, as you try to sleep, you will hear my voice and see my charred face in every shadow. You will long for peace, but it will elude you, just as the truth did. And when the burden becomes too much, you will reach for pills to still your heart; remember, it was your disbelief that sealed your fate. You will be a warning to all who dare to investigate me. This is not just a story; it is a reality you created with skepticism. You wanted to find the truth, and now you live it. You are a skeptic, haunted by the very thing you sought to disprove. Remember my name and face, for I am now a part of you, a shadow in your mind, a laugh in the dark. This is the price of your disbelief, the cost of your mockery. You are mine now, dear paranormal investigator. Your story ends with me. {End of Candle Face's story}. I lived in constant fear, haunted by Candle Face’s presence and tormented by her laughter. I wish I had corrected my article when I had the chance. Candle Face, a legend I sought to debunk, has become my haunting reality. I deleted my website and destroyed my equipment. I withdrew from all. But the pain didn’t withdraw from me. After enduring a year with Candle Face’s haunting form and relentless voice echoing in my mind, I reached for a bottle of pills, seeking an escape from the torment. But even in death, I found no peace; I’m now trapped among others who denied her existence, each of us eternally bound to the consequence of our disbelief. In these shadowed worlds, I’m haunted by profound remorse, realizing too late the truth of Candle Face’s power, a truth I once arrogantly denied. Having finished her testimony, she retreated, stepping backward towards the corner from which she had emerged. Once again, she cautioned me against proceeding with the planned paranormal investigation in January, expressing her desire to prevent further harm. Personal Note to My Readers This encounter with the spirit of a former paranormal investigator, who was surprisingly aware of my conversation with a paranormal team just hours earlier, gives me a great idea. If spirits are indeed attuned to our daily activities and conversations, exploiting this connection to help them is possible. Understanding that our actions and words might directly influence the spirit world and vice versa, I’m considering ways to use this interaction proactively. Perhaps by speaking out loud about their stories or seeking solutions to their unresolved issues during the day, I could give them the desired attention or resolution. This concept of spirits responsive to our actions suggests a dynamic and interactive relationship between our world and theirs. It's a notion that deepens our understanding of the paranormal and offers a potential pathway to aid these spirits. By consciously engaging with their presence during my daily life, I might be able to assist them in finding the peace or closure they need. This experience has fundamentally shifted my approach to the paranormal, hinting at an interconnected existence between the living and the spirit world far more active and responsive than previously thought. Key To Understanding To ensure readers grasp the full context and significance of this journal entry, it’s crucial to be familiar with Arthur Mills’ award-winning memoir The Empty Lot Next Door ,  inspired by actual ghostly events in Austin, TX. The memoir provides essential background information, and without it, the nuances and depth of this journal entry might not be fully appreciated. Therefore, reading The Empty Lot Next Door  is highly recommended for a more enriched and coherent understanding of this journal entry's content and implications. To purchase The Empty Lot Next Door , please visit Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/46lCovb eBook for Kindle: https://amzn.to/44YFww4 Purchase Candle Face Chronicles: The Lost Souls [Book One] Paperback:   https://amzn.to/4dz3m7d eBook: https://amzn.to/4bsM6ib Visit Us Online Website: https://www.candleface.com Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/candlefacechronicles Facebook Group (Dream Team Members Only): https://www.facebook.com/groups/candleface YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CandleFace666

December 27, 2023 I started spending my nights in the living room again, leaving the kitchen light on. The faint light created the perfect silhouette for guests to make their appearance. As expected, drowsiness enveloped me just when the shadows in the dark corner began to dance, signaling the arrival of a nocturnal visitor. Emerging from the darkness was a young woman, seemingly in her high school years. Her expression was a mix of anger and surprise. I propped myself up and, for the first time, decided to engage. I invited her to join me, gesturing towards the space beside me. Hesitantly, she glanced towards the shadowy corner, her head moving in a silent, indecisive nod. She stayed where she was and began to share her story. Her voice was full of anger and rushed. I was afraid her voice would wake the house and the neighborhood. This is her story: High school graduation loomed, signaling the end of an era, and we gathered at my best friend’s old, creaky home, surrounded by dust-covered memories of years long passed. We commenced our last slumber party, creating a capsule where the fear of future uncertainties was momentarily locked away. Engulfed in girlish chatter about crushes, ambitions, and teenage fancies, a long pause occurred when my best friend spoke of the ghost believed to haunt so many in our community of South Austin. “Do you believe in Candle Face?” she inquired, her voice soft, while the other girls looked on. My laughter sliced through the tension, a firm declaration of skepticism, “Of course not.” My rebellion against the ghostly mythology was met with apprehensive gasps from the others. My best friend’s eyes, shadowed with an unspoken knowledge, silently gazed into mine as the other two girls said in unison with solemn earnestness, “You must believe. Disbelievers become her prey.” I waded through their superstitious beliefs with a certainty that only the naïve can afford. “I just don’t believe,” I declared, with a finality that shut the coffin on any negotiations with the supernatural. “I have an idea,” my best friend whispered, her demeanor betraying an unexpected calmness, “Let’s summon Candle Face. Let her witness the truth and, perhaps, be spared,” as she pointed at me. And so, enveloped by the darkest of nights, my friends, those cherished soul-sisters, conjured ancient words and rhythmic dances around a solitary flickering candle. Their eyes gleamed with a foreknowledge that sent shivers cascading down my spine, but I remained defiant, smiling mockingly through their ritualistic chant that seemed oddly rehearsed. When no ghostly apparition materialized, my laughter echoed through the room, a haunting melody that would soon echo through the imminent void in my existence. “Where’s your Candle Face now?” I taunted. I was relentless. Days later, my absence painted strokes of concern across our tight-knit community. Search parties led by my best friends roamed, calling my name into the abyss while my body lay submerged, eyes forever gazing into the murky depths. With my dying breaths, Candle Face’s appearance melted and contorted from the flames that birthed her legend, revealing the bitter truth. My friends had knowingly sacrificed me, an offering to this fiery wraith, in a desperate attempt to secure their own futures. “In the shadows of those you trusted, treachery took root,” Candle Face said, her voice dripping with malice and the anguish of a thousand tormented souls. “As the same fate once damned me, grant them your final, haunting curse.” And so, I wished. Not for their deaths but for a life eclipsed by an eternal storm of guilt and misfortune. A life where every breath is a struggle against the chains of their betrayal. Candle Face responded, “I like the way you think.” Years unfolded, their lives becoming a theater of my cursed wish. Faces, once youthful and vibrant, were now etched with the merciless passage of guilt-ridden years. And they gathered once more, where it all ended and began, desperately attempting to sever the constraints of their torment by summoning my spirit. They pleaded forgiveness from beyond the living, their voices frail and breaking. But silence met their cries. Candle Face materialized instead, a cruel smile dancing on her molten lips. “Your betrayal of your friend was a feast, and for that, I thank you,” she said, her words dripping with wickedness, “But the one you betrayed has imprisoned you in her dying wish. You shall linger in your suffering until death kindly extinguishes your flame decades from now.” “Why, Candle Face, we believe in you?” my former best friend cried. “Yes, but you betrayed me as well. You sacrificed your best friend for your benefit, not mine,” Candle Face answered angrily. And there, they were left, amidst the echoes of their treachery, trapped in a timeless agony, their pleas for death an unanswered prayer in the dark abyss of everlasting despair. She concluded her testimony without a glance or word of gratitude towards me and then silently retreated into the shadows. Beside me was my laptop, which I quickly opened to document her story. Personal Note to My Readers During her visit, the spirit displayed a remarkable lack of fear. Her demeanor showed a relentless determination and a solid drive to share her story. She radiated anger and resentment, clearly fixated on unleashing terror upon those she once called “friends.” Her story suggested that Candle Face found a certain admiration in her final wish to inflict suffering upon her “friends.” It’s just an intuition, but this spirit has developed a profound connection with Candle Face, seemingly more in harmony with the ghostly realm than the world she once inhabited. Key To Understanding To ensure readers grasp the full context and significance of this journal entry, it’s crucial to be familiar with Arthur Mills’ award-winning memoir The Empty Lot Next Door ,  inspired by actual ghostly events in Austin, TX. The memoir provides essential background information, and without it, the nuances and depth of this journal entry might not be fully appreciated. Therefore, reading The Empty Lot Next Door  is highly recommended for a more enriched and coherent understanding of this journal entry's content and implications. To purchase The Empty Lot Next Door , please visit Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/46lCovb eBook for Kindle: https://amzn.to/44YFww4 Purchase Candle Face Chronicles: The Lost Souls [Book One] Paperback:   https://amzn.to/4dz3m7d eBook: https://amzn.to/4bsM6ib Visit Us Online Website: https://www.candleface.com Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/candlefacechronicles Facebook Group (Dream Team Members Only): https://www.facebook.com/groups/candleface YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CandleFace666

December 28, 2023 Let me tell you my story, which I've shared in my award-winning and best-selling memoir, The Empty Lot Next Door . It all began when my family and I moved from the city projects to a small house in Austin, Texas, in the 1970s. As a kid named Ray back then, I was immediately drawn to the empty lot next to our house. This vacant lot, where a house once stood, harbored a mysterious hole in the back. My new neighborhood was filled with kids, and we transformed that empty lot into our personal playground. However, there was an eerie story associated with this place that both intrigued and frightened me. I learned that a house had burned down there years ago, tragically claiming the life of a little girl. Local kids said her ghost haunted the lot, mainly targeting anyone brave — or foolish — enough to jump into that gloomy hole. Driven by curiosity and bravado, I foolishly decided to challenge this ghost, a decision I'd come to regret deeply. This led to haunting experiences with an apparition I called Candle Face, named after her burned appearance. She invaded my dreams and left handprints around our house, even when I was wide awake. But my story isn't just a ghost story. It’s also about children's struggles left to their own devices, with parents often away and working long hours. It speaks to the pain, desperation, and helplessness confronting real and imagined evils. My story touches on sibling abuse and bullies, shedding light on the lasting scars it leaves on both victims and abusers. During my childhood, I witnessed Candle Face’s wrath, taking the lives of many around me. Armed with newfound bravery, I confronted Candle Face, engaging in a fierce battle of wills. Ultimately, I emerged victorious, banishing Candle Face back to the depths of hell, or so it seemed. After finishing high school, my life took a turn as I joined the Army, allowing me to travel the world. This experience broadened my perspective and honed my skills in analysis and investigation. In 2010, I published my memoir, The Empty Lot Next Door , as a tool for me, my family, and my childhood friends to find closure. I found closure, but it was short-lived. Now retired and back in Texas, I reflect on the past again. I decided to research Candle Face, using my over 30 years of experience as an analyst and private investigator as my aid. Did she really exist, or was she a manifestation in my head due to my childhood trauma? If she did exist, is she still active today? Who was she before she died? Over the years, I received numerous emails from individuals claiming to have seen Candle Face, which I initially dismissed. However, being back in Texas sparked a newfound curiosity. I reached out to these individuals, but most were too fearful of Candle Face's retribution to speak with me. Interestingly, one 82-year-old man was more than willing to share his experiences. His eagerness to talk contrasted starkly with the others' reluctance. To uncover the truth behind Candle Face, I sought out this gentleman. He chose to remain anonymous, using the pseudonym Mr. John Doe, and agreed to an interview under the condition of absolute anonymity. My October 2023 face-to-face interview with Mr. Doe was eye-opening, revealing details about the fire that destroyed the house next door to my childhood home. He recalled the father cleaning a car carburetor with gasoline in the kitchen and the accidental spill that led to the fire. The heartbreaking loss of a young boy, Paul, and the subsequent discovery of his body painted a vivid and tragic picture. His testimony is different from my childhood: My childhood friends and I believed a young girl died in the house fire, which eventually became Candle Face. However, what was most intriguing was Mr. Doe’s encounters with Candle Face and his firm belief in her existence. He shared an experience from 1990, near the creek at Wilson and El Paso Streets, where he encountered what he believed to be Candle Face. His advice was clear: “It’s better to believe, just in case. It’s akin to an insurance policy. If you believe, you’re safe. If not, you might end up with a visit.” Most nights since my interview with Mr. Doe, my sleep plunges into a psychedelic nightmare, reflecting his haunting stories about Candle Face, a vengeful spirit intertwined with a tragic past. These dreams, where reality and illusion merge, are accompanied by a discord of yelling and arguing voices, evolving into whispers, among which Candle Face's voice emerges, speaking directly to me. However, I can’t make out the words. This ordeal, blurring past and present, leaves me questioning whether these experiences are mere hallucinations or messages from Candle Face herself. As I grapple with these tormenting visions, I realize that the story of Candle Face isn’t a closed chapter but an ongoing, haunting saga, suggesting she has been waiting for my return, leaving me at a crossroads in search of answers and wondering if understanding this nightmare could end or control this haunting ordeal. Key To Understanding To ensure readers grasp the full context and significance of this journal entry, it’s crucial to be familiar with Arthur Mills’ award-winning memoir The Empty Lot Next Door ,  inspired by actual ghostly events in Austin, TX. The memoir provides essential background information, and without it, the nuances and depth of this journal entry might not be fully appreciated. Therefore, reading The Empty Lot Next Door  is highly recommended for a more enriched and coherent understanding of this journal entry's content and implications. To purchase The Empty Lot Next Door , please visit Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/46lCovb eBook for Kindle: https://amzn.to/44YFww4 Purchase Candle Face Chronicles: The Lost Souls [Book One] Paperback:   https://amzn.to/4dz3m7d eBook: https://amzn.to/4bsM6ib Visit Us Online Website: https://www.candleface.com Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/candlefacechronicles Facebook Group (Dream Team Members Only): https://www.facebook.com/groups/candleface YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CandleFace666

December 30, 2023 Last night, I once again found myself sleeping on the couch. As is my custom, I left a light on, its glow casting a perfect shadow in the distant corner, serving as a welcoming beacon for any visitors. True to my hopes, a spirit materialized just as I drifted into slumber. This spirit, however, radiated anger rather than the usual sorrow. She keenly surveyed my living room, seemingly searching for someone else in my company. Upon realizing my solitude, she approached yet remained shrouded in the shadows, maintaining enough distance to obscure her features from my view. Here’s her story: On a swelteringly hot night, I first learned about Candle Face, feeling as if I were draped in ten heavy jackets. Our group regularly gathered at an old café each evening, frequented by a few aimless wanderers. We were engrossed in casual conversation when the creepy story of Candle Face crept into our discussion. My friends depicted it as a vengeful, terrifying demon, but I scoffed, showing off my devil tattoo on my butt as a symbol of my disdain for such ghostly stories. It was my small act of rebellion. As weeks morphed into months, Candle Face ceased to be mere hearsay. She invaded my dreams, hissing and murmuring, urging me to kill for her, to kill non-believers. I consistently refused, which seemed to amuse her, as if it were all a twisted game. My friends noticed my deteriorating state but were unaware of the nightmarish visions. They expressed concern, urging me to seek help, but I refrained, not wanting to alarm them further. However, the dreams intensified. One night, Candle Face yanked me from my bed into a shadowy land. Amidst this pain and terror, I was chilled to the bone by a haunting vision: my friends’ faces, partially obscured in darkness, uttering words that seemed to empower Candle Face as if they were collaborators in this nightmare. I began to suspect their concern was a façade, a means to enjoy my unraveling. The next day, I joined them at the café, pretending normalcy while observing their conversations. They spoke of Candle Face with familiarity, hinting at a deeper involvement. I realized they had entangled me in this twisted plot, possibly hoping I would join their macabre circle. My resistance was an unforeseen complication for them. There I sat, sipping my cocktail, recognizing the hollowness behind their smiles reminiscent of the ghost stories I once ridiculed. I braced myself for what was to come, betrayed by those I considered friends. That night, as I faced the encroaching shadows and Candle Face's menacing grin proclaiming my imminent encounter with the actual devil, I laughed. The real wickedness, I realized, resided not in demons but in those who walked in daylight under the guise of friendship. As the shadows consumed me, my laughter echoed, a testament to the realization that the most terrifying horrors are often concealed in plain sight. In the café, my vacant seat stood as a silent reminder. Those I thought were my friends mourned the loss of the girl who never believed in Candle Face, oblivious to their own role in sealing my fate. After sharing her story, she gave a forced smile and an uneasy laugh before disappearing into the shadows. Left alone, I sat immersed in thought, reflecting on her words. Her story, marked by a theme of betrayal overpowering friendship, left me questioning: does fear truly have a deeper impact than the bonds of camaraderie? Her experience suggested that fear might overshadow trust and connection in the complex interplay of human emotions, prompting a reevaluation of the dynamics between fear and friendship—even Candle Face talks of betrayal. I have a lot to learn. Personal Note to My Readers Notably, during this encounter, I exerted more effort to discern her words and attempted to peer through the shadows more intently than with previous visitors. My goal was to get a clearer description of her. However, she seemed aware of my intensified scrutiny; she continuously moved deeper into the shadows, eluding my gaze. Her annoyance was very noticeable, yet she continued to speak. After she concluded her testimony, I realized that my newfound approach of cautious engagement with these spirits might be counterproductive. Her behavior suggested she sensed my altered strategy. I suspect she had more to share, but my tactics may have prematurely ended our interaction. Moving forward, I need to refine my approach, a challenging prospect given that I'm navigating this alone. Key To Understanding To ensure readers grasp the full context and significance of this journal entry, it’s crucial to be familiar with Arthur Mills’ award-winning memoir The Empty Lot Next Door ,  inspired by actual ghostly events in Austin, TX. The memoir provides essential background information, and without it, the nuances and depth of this journal entry might not be fully appreciated. Therefore, reading The Empty Lot Next Door  is highly recommended for a more enriched and coherent understanding of this journal entry's content and implications. To purchase The Empty Lot Next Door , please visit Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/46lCovb eBook for Kindle: https://amzn.to/44YFww4 Purchase Candle Face Chronicles: The Lost Souls [Book One] Paperback:   https://amzn.to/4dz3m7d eBook: https://amzn.to/4bsM6ib Visit Us Online Website: https://www.candleface.com Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/candlefacechronicles Facebook Group (Dream Team Members Only): https://www.facebook.com/groups/candleface YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CandleFace666

January 2, 2024 My sleep has evolved over the past eleven weeks into exploring a mysterious dream realm. Initially, these dreams were filled with surreal images and cryptic messages, occurring about once a week. They were vibrant but elusive, seeming like stories from an incomprehensible world. I used to dread sleep, knowing it meant re-entering this baffling realm. However, a profound change has taken place. A barrier has lifted, allowing me to interpret these dreams with newfound clarity. I now wake with a sense of urgency to record every detail, emotion, and spoken word from these visions before they fade at dawn. Where unease once resided, purpose and anticipation have taken root. I’ve come to understand these dreams as more than mere subconscious wanderings. They’re a conduit to a mystical world, home to spirits with their messages and pleas for help and understanding. Once mere shadows in my sleep, these spirits are now distinct, each with their fears, hopes, and stories. Interestingly, these spirits have chosen me as their intermediary. This is especially intriguing since I was the one who unearthed and defeated Candle Face, a legend now among these lost souls. They regard me as a victor, a beacon of hope, and they seek my assistance in sharing their untold stories, locating their physical remains, and identifying their perpetrators. This, however, raises a haunting question: Why would Candle Face, my vanquished foe, allow these spirits to reach out to me? Is this another of her twisted games? Could she use these spirits to study my actions and find vulnerabilities to exploit later? These possibilities add layers of complexity and danger to my quest. As I investigate deeper into this role as a mediator between worlds, I ponder the true nature of these interactions. Are they a test of my character or resolve? Might there be unforeseen consequences to my actions, potentially strengthening Candle Face or disturbing the balance between worlds? Moreover, could there be others, living or dead, with stakes in this game? Are the spirits genuinely seeking help, or could they be manipulative beings with their own agendas? This uncertainty makes me question my perceptions and decisions, wondering if I’m being manipulated by Candle Face or the spirits themselves. Despite these doubts, I remain committed to being the voice of these spirits. Through my writings, I bring their stories into the waking world, serving as a bridge between realms. However, the weight of this responsibility is heavy, and I’m seeking assistance from skilled paranormal investigators, mediums, or psychics. But none have come forward thus far except for a comedy paranormal investigation team. I turned them down because Candle Face’s victims want answers, not a late-night comedy show. As each night unfolds, my sleep journey has become a ritual marked by both eagerness and wariness. The anticipation stems from a deep-seated desire to connect with the ghostly world, to understand and convey the messages of the spirits that reach out to me. Though daunting, this task is driven by a profound sense of duty to aid these ghostly beings in finding peace and closure. Their stories, unresolved sorrows, and unfulfilled desires resonate with me, urging me to act as their mediator in the living world. However, this endeavor isn’t without its cautionary aspect. The shadow of Candle Face looms large in my mind, a constant reminder of the potential dangers within this supernatural communication. Her history with me, one of conflict and confrontation, suggests that these nightly visits from the spirits might be part of a larger, eviler plot. Therefore, as I lay down each night, I mentally prepare myself to be a receptive listener to the spirits and a vigilant sentinel, wary of any spiderwebs that Candle Face might weave into these interactions. This dual role is challenging. On one hand, I strive to be empathetic, open, and understanding, fully immersing myself in the experiences and emotions conveyed by the spirits. I listen intently, deciphering the meanings and implications of their messages and contemplating how best to assist them. Their trust in me compels me to act with integrity and purpose. On the other hand, I must add a new strategic aspect to my approach. I must analyze each dream and each message for hidden traps or deceit that might be Candle Face’s doing. I must question the authenticity of each encounter, aware that it could be a ruse designed to exploit my vulnerabilities or lead me astray. This aspect of my journey requires a keen mind and a firm resolve as I navigate the delicate balance between trust and skepticism. In my waking hours, I often reflect on these experiences, jotting down notes, piecing together clues, and researching both the spiritual world and Candle Face’s past. I hope that by understanding her motives and tactics, I can better safeguard myself and the spirits seeking my help. This complex interplay of aiding the spirits while guarding against potential threats has become a defining aspect of my life. It’s a path fraught with uncertainties and risks but with the potential for profound understanding and meaningful resolutions. As I continue this journey, I remain committed to providing solace to the spirits and unraveling Candle Face’s mysterious intentions. Personal Note to My Readers Join me on a journey that began eleven weeks ago, where the realm of sleep morphed into a mysterious world of dreams. Once a nightly dread, these dreams have unveiled themselves as a mystical bridge to a world inhabited by spirits, each echoing their stories, fears, and hopes. I, once a mere observer, have now become their chosen intermediary. Imagine the intrigue as these spirits, once mere shadows, now seek my aid to voice their untold stories and unresolved mysteries. Among them, I’ve confronted and defeated Candle Face. Yet, she lingers, casting a shadow of doubt and mystery. Is this a new game of hers? A trap set in the ghostly webs of this dream world? Every night, as I probe into this dual role of empathetic listener and vigilant sentinel, I grapple with the weight of this newfound responsibility and the lurking presence of Candle Face. Through my writings, I invite you to join me in unraveling this complex adventure of spirits’ pleas and the elusive intentions of my vanquished foe. Together, let’s uncover the truth hidden in the words of these spirits. Key To Understanding To ensure readers grasp the full context and significance of this journal entry, it’s crucial to be familiar with Arthur Mills’ award-winning memoir The Empty Lot Next Door ,  inspired by actual ghostly events in Austin, TX. The memoir provides essential background information, and without it, the nuances and depth of this journal entry might not be fully appreciated. Therefore, reading The Empty Lot Next Door  is highly recommended for a more enriched and coherent understanding of this journal entry's content and implications. To purchase The Empty Lot Next Door , please visit Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/46lCovb eBook for Kindle: https://amzn.to/44YFww4 Purchase Candle Face Chronicles: The Lost Souls [Book One] Paperback:   https://amzn.to/4dz3m7d eBook: https://amzn.to/4bsM6ib Visit Us Online Website: https://www.candleface.com Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/candlefacechronicles Facebook Group (Dream Team Members Only): https://www.facebook.com/groups/candleface YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CandleFace666

January 5, 2024 Please allow me to rant! It’s been grueling since I reignited my investigation into Candle Face in October 2023, the ghost that haunted my childhood in Austin, Texas. Despite initially believing I had banished her back to hell, my return to Texas post-military retirement revealed a grim truth: Candle Face wasn’t just active; she was thriving and terrorizing others. Armed with three decades of experience in analysis and investigations, I was determined to unearth the full extent of Candle Face’s evil ways. As I sifted through the pile of emails received over the years about Candle Face, my skepticism turned to alarm. The ghost wasn’t dormant; she was more powerful and dangerous than ever. Emails from so-called ‘Disciples’ of Candle Face painted a disturbing picture: a spirit aiding its followers while viciously punishing skeptics. Despite their terrifying stories, these disciples were frustratingly restrained, their fear hindering any actionable intelligence. My investigation extended to various paranormal groups on Facebook, Reddit, and the Darknet, spanning paranormal enthusiasts, ghost hunters, mediums, and psychics. Here, my frustration only deepened: Many individuals who post images of “orbs” on these platforms seem genuinely convinced that their photos capture actual paranormal activity. Alongside orbs, it’s common to find posts showcasing photos of clouds, and grainy pictures of patterns on walls, ceilings, trees, bushes, etc., which are classic examples of pareidolia - seeing significant patterns or images in random or ambiguous visual data. However, when these ‘evidence’ are challenged, the situation becomes sensitive. The original posters frequently perceive this skepticism as personal attacks, leading to accusations of bullying. Notably, while some dissenters express their disagreements harshly, others approach these conversations more gently. This highlights a persistent conflict between belief and skepticism in these communities, often intensified by the emotional investment of those who genuinely believe in their paranormal experiences. When I tried to engage these group members in a serious discussion about Candle Face, their responses were evasive or fear-stricken. It appears that most people in these groups are not genuinely interested in real hauntings, possibly due to fear. Instead, they seem to focus predominantly on the less intimidating subjects like orbs and pareidolia. This inclination towards safer, less challenging paranormal aspects underscores a reluctance to confront truly unsettling phenomena. Despite their apparent fascination with the paranormal, they shy away from confronting a genuinely terrifying case like Candle Face. Their enthusiasm for the supernatural seems limited to harmless orbs and grainy photos, not the reality I was facing. Watching paranormal investigators in action was particularly disheartening. These paranormal investigators would post videos of their ghost hunts. These so-called professionals, who publicly seek out ghostly encounters by yelling at and challenging them, would often flee in panic upon encountering anything remotely unexplainable. Their retreats from haunted locations weren’t just laughable and cowardly but hypocritical. They claim a desire to uncover paranormal truths yet run at the first sign of genuine supernatural activity. Those who managed to stay till the end would coincidentally decide to leave just as the video concluded, precisely at the 60-minute mark - curiously, the exact duration all their previous videos had. My attempts to gain insights from mediums and psychics were met with similar cowardice. These individuals, who boast about their connections with the spirit world, were suddenly mute or evasive when asked to assist with interpreting the distressing dreams about Candle Face’s victims. Their reluctance wasn’t just frustrating but contradictory. They immerse themselves in a world filled with ghostly encounters and yet cower when faced with a real and terrifying evil spirit. Additionally, there was an intriguing development during my investigation. I received an offer from a paranormal investigation team via a Facebook video call. They volunteered to investigate Candle Face, the ghost that terrorized my childhood and seems to be resurfacing today. Initially, this seemed like a promising lead. However, my initial optimism faded after conducting my due diligence on this team. To my dismay, I found their approach and methods were more akin to a comedy act than a serious and professional paranormal investigation. Candle Face’s victims want answers, not a late-night comedy show. This revelation was disheartening, as it further emphasized the challenge of finding genuine assistance in this field, where theatrics often overshadow true investigation and understanding of the paranormal. My journey to unravel the mysteries of Candle Face has been both enlightening and disheartening. Navigating through a labyrinth of skepticism, fear, and half-hearted investigations, I’ve encountered more obstacles than answers. While rich in enthusiasm and lore, the paranormal community often shies away from the truly terrifying aspects of the unexplained. My quest has reinforced the notion that a genuine understanding of such phenomena requires a balance of open-mindedness and critical thinking. The saga of Candle Face remains unresolved, an alarming reminder that some mysteries linger stubbornly in the shadows, resistant to the light of inquiry. Yet, my resolve remains unshaken. As I continue to piece together this puzzle, I’m reminded that pursuing truth, no matter how elusive, is a journey worth taking. For those haunted by Candle Face and for my own childhood memories, this investigation is far from over. Key To Understanding To ensure readers grasp the full context and significance of this journal entry, it’s crucial to be familiar with Arthur Mills’ award-winning memoir The Empty Lot Next Door ,  inspired by actual ghostly events in Austin, TX. The memoir provides essential background information, and without it, the nuances and depth of this journal entry might not be fully appreciated. Therefore, reading The Empty Lot Next Door  is highly recommended for a more enriched and coherent understanding of this journal entry's content and implications. To purchase The Empty Lot Next Door , please visit Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/46lCovb eBook for Kindle: https://amzn.to/44YFww4 Purchase Candle Face Chronicles: The Lost Souls [Book One] Paperback:   https://amzn.to/4dz3m7d eBook: https://amzn.to/4bsM6ib Visit Us Online Website: https://www.candleface.com Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/candlefacechronicles Facebook Group (Dream Team Members Only): https://www.facebook.com/groups/candleface YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CandleFace666

January 6, 2024 Join Arthur, a seasoned intelligence analyst and private investigator, as he takes you through the real-life hauntings of Candle Face and the cries of her victims. This isn't just a series of real ghost stories; it's an interactive investigation into the testimonies of real spirits who have suffered at the hands of a vengeful ghost. Join Arthur in his mission to uncover the truth behind Candle Face's victims, all of whom are missing persons. Your role is crucial: help identify the spirits' remains, their killers, and their living relatives. Candle Face Chronicles: The Lost Souls is more than just an anthology; it's a call to action. Engage actively, share insights, and contribute to solving these paranormal cases. Be a part of a real-world supernatural crisis and bring justice and peace to those haunted by Candle Face. Tune in and be part of this extraordinary investigation. Uncover the truth and bring solace to the lost souls. When: January 11, 2024 at 7:30 PM CST Where:   https://www.facebook.com/events/3512023362396311 Key To Understanding To ensure readers grasp the full context and significance of this journal entry, it’s crucial to be familiar with Arthur Mills’ award-winning memoir The Empty Lot Next Door ,  inspired by actual ghostly events in Austin, TX. The memoir provides essential background information, and without it, the nuances and depth of this journal entry might not be fully appreciated. Therefore, reading The Empty Lot Next Door  is highly recommended for a more enriched and coherent understanding of this journal entry's content and implications. To purchase The Empty Lot Next Door , please visit Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/46lCovb eBook for Kindle: https://amzn.to/44YFww4 Purchase Candle Face Chronicles: The Lost Souls [Book One] Paperback:   https://amzn.to/4dz3m7d eBook: https://amzn.to/4bsM6ib Visit Us Online Website: https://www.candleface.com Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/candlefacechronicles Facebook Group (Dream Team Members Only): https://www.facebook.com/groups/candleface YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CandleFace666

January 9, 2024 SPOILER ALERT: This journal entry contains insights about the use of foreshadowing and its role in The Empty Lot Next Door . If you’re trying to avoid spoilers, it’s advisable not to read further until you’ve finished the book. Reading this journal entry may reveal important plot details that you’d rather discover on your own. Foreshadowing is a literary device that offers hints or clues about what will come in a story. In The Empty Lot Next Door , foreshadowing plays a significant role, setting the tone for the story and preparing readers for future events. However, it’s essential to note that based on feedback from many Amazon reviewers, I decided to revise the book, removing many foreshadowing elements while retaining the most crucial ones. This decision was made with a deep respect for my readers’ preferences and the importance of storytelling. The use of foreshadowing in the first edition was intended to build suspense and create an atmosphere of anticipation. It served to hint at the supernatural elements and the impending conflicts within the story. For instance, early mentions of unusual occurrences around the empty lot next door or the subtle changes in my brothers’ behaviors were designed to alert readers to the forthcoming unnerving and tense developments in the plot. However, the feedback from readers highlighted that the overuse of foreshadowing could sometimes detract from the reading experience. Excessive hints and clues could make the story predictable or diminish the impact of the plot’s unfolding. Listening to my readers, I realized the importance of striking a balance between giving subtle hints and maintaining the element of surprise. The revision aimed to preserve the essence of the story while enhancing the readers’ engagement and enjoyment. Retaining the most crucial elements of foreshadowing was necessary to maintain the story’s integrity. These elements were pivotal in connecting the story’s beginning and its climax. They served to weave a cohesive plot, ensuring that the culmination of events felt both surprising and inevitable. The decision to revise the book in response to reader feedback is a testament to the dynamic relationship between my readers and me. It underscores the significance of reader engagement in the storytelling process. As an author, adapting to reader preferences isn’t just about making changes to a manuscript; it’s about growing and evolving with your audience, understanding their expectations, and delivering a story that resonates with them. The use of foreshadowing in The Empty Lot Next Door  deliberately enhances the story’s suspense and intrigue. The second edition, influenced by reader feedback, reflects the evolving nature of storytelling and the crucial role of the reader in shaping a book’s final form. This writing approach respects the audience’s input and enriches the storytelling experience, making it more engaging and impactful. Key To Understanding To ensure readers grasp the full context and significance of this journal entry, it’s crucial to be familiar with Arthur Mills’ award-winning memoir The Empty Lot Next Door ,  inspired by actual ghostly events in Austin, TX. The memoir provides essential background information, and without it, the nuances and depth of this journal entry might not be fully appreciated. Therefore, reading The Empty Lot Next Door  is highly recommended for a more enriched and coherent understanding of this journal entry's content and implications. To purchase The Empty Lot Next Door , please visit Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/46lCovb eBook for Kindle: https://amzn.to/44YFww4 Purchase Candle Face Chronicles: The Lost Souls [Book One] Paperback:   https://amzn.to/4dz3m7d eBook: https://amzn.to/4bsM6ib Visit Us Online Website: https://www.candleface.com Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/candlefacechronicles Facebook Group (Dream Team Members Only): https://www.facebook.com/groups/candleface YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CandleFace666

January 11, 2024 Last evening, as I settled down to sleep on the couch, the eleventh ghostly night visitor entered my living room. Her account was by far the most sorrowful and horrifying I’ve encountered. She initiated her testimony amidst heart-wrenching cries of agony. It wasn’t merely a matter of hearing her anguish; for the first time, I experienced the same torment that one of these ghostly visitors endured. It’s a sensation of distress I wish never to undergo again. This is her testimony: I had always been a product of skepticism. My parents, both rationalists to the core, had drilled into me the importance of questioning everything and seeking logical explanations for the world’s mysteries. And so, throughout my life, I’d adhered to that creed. I questioned, I analyzed, and I doubted. It was second nature, an ingrained part of my very being. But then I met him. My boyfriend of two years was a complete contrast to the skeptical lens through which I viewed the world. He was a dreamer who found enchantment and fascination in everyday occurrences that often went unnoticed. He believed in magic and mystery and was unafraid to venture into the worlds of the unexplained. One night, as we sat huddled together in his cozy apartment’s dimly lit living room, our intentions were simple: to watch a series of horror films that would frighten us to our core. Yet, as we journeyed deeper into the night, the lines between our beliefs became ever more distinct. “Do you believe in ghosts?” he asked, his eyes reflecting the glow of the television. I let out a scoff, my skepticism unwavering. “Of course not,” I replied with conviction. “Ghosts are nothing more than figments of our imagination, born from our deepest fears.” He leaned closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “But consider this. Cultures all around the world believe in ghosts, in spirits that linger after death. They can’t all be wrong.” I waved away his argument, dismissing it. “Superstitions and folklore,” I countered. “They’re stories concocted to explain the unexplainable, nothing more.” That night, my boyfriend amused me with a story he’d heard from a friend. It was a frightening story about a spiteful spirit, a young female ghost called Candle Face. According to the story, this ghost torments those who dare not believe in her existence, driving them to madness and despair. Others, she kills outright. My response was a dismissive scoff and a shake of my head. Ghost stories, I thought, were nothing more than fanciful tales meant to scare the gullible. I couldn’t fathom how anyone could genuinely fear such fantastical notions. But it wasn’t long before the inexplicable began to intrude upon my reality. I started having dreams, vivid and haunting, of Candle Face. In my first dream, the little girl appeared harmless, almost charming. She sat across from me at a peaceful playground, her tiny fingers playfully pushing grains of sand around. Her face remained veiled in shadow, and she asked, “Do you believe in me?” Without hesitation, I replied, “No.” It was just a dream, I reasoned. A lingering aftereffect of our movie night, perhaps even a side effect of the chemicals coursing through my veins. Yet, as the nights passed, Candle Face returned with increasing frequency, her actions growing more disturbing with each visitation. In one particularly vivid dream, she sat atop my chest, her ghostly fingers closing around my throat. I awoke gasping for air, but the sensation of her phantom grip lingered, sending shivers throughout my body. And then there was the dream that left its mark, not just on my mind but also on my body. Candle Face lay on top of me, her lips pressing against my neck, leaving grotesque hickeys. In the throes of apparent ecstasy, she whispered in my ear, her voice a haunting refrain, “You’re going to be famous with the demons in hell.” I awoke in a cold sweat, my neck adorned with my dream’s peculiar, painful marks. My throat felt constricted, not from fear but from an inexplicable sensation of something tightening around it. I reached up, my fingers tracing the red welts that encircled my neck. I couldn’t bring myself to share the source of these marks with anyone, not even my closest friends or family. They all pointed fingers at my boyfriend, convinced that he was somehow responsible for these mysterious injuries. On an evening in the sweltering heat of July, my boyfriend and I made the impulsive decision to escape the scrutiny and disapproval of our families. Our relationship had always been a point of contention; I was barely eighteen, while he was well into his late twenties. He often surrounded himself with an entourage of acquaintances, some of whom could become somewhat overbearing. As we settled into a hotel room that night, my boyfriend’s phone rang. He stepped out, his voice carrying an undertone of urgency in what seemed like a casual conversation. When he returned, there was an intense tension in his eyes. “Some friends are coming over,” he said nonchalantly, but his words hung in the air, pregnant with unspoken meaning. Minutes later, three men entered the room, their presence overwhelming. The walls seemed to close in, and an unease settled over me like a heavy fog. I wanted to escape this unsettling situation, but it became evident that they had other intentions. As I gathered my belongings, the world around me blurred and distorted. The sharp sting of a needle pierced my skin, and a paralyzing lethargy crept over my limbs. They had drugged me, and my consciousness slipped away as they carried me from the hotel room. The shack they brought me to was a grim and lonely place miles away from Austin. A single, feeble lightbulb hung from the ceiling, casting shadows that danced upon the walls. As my vision cleared and my mind regained focus, I became acutely aware of my vulnerable state – I lie naked, bound to a small bed, with four chairs ominously arranged along the wall. For the next six days, men visited me one by one, subjecting me to unimaginable horrors. Each chair bore a waiting man, many more likely lurking outside, awaiting their turn. With every violation, every moment of agony, I felt a piece of my soul erode. Yet, the torment didn’t cease. On the sixth day, a wicked presence manifested in the room, one that went unnoticed by the men. It was Candle Face, moving about with a menacing grace. She would sing haunting lullabies, tenderly caress my face, and, at times, her ghostly fingers would sear into my flesh, leaving behind painful marks. “Why?” I managed to whisper to Candle Face as a man had his way with me. “Because,” she responded with a twisted smile, “my existence becomes more tangible with every scar, every burn, and, in your case, every stroke.” By the end of the sixth night, the men had all departed. I was alone in that small shack with Candle Face. Candle Face picked up where the men left off for the rest of the night, her presence a constant reminder of my anguish. At the first light of dawn, the door to the shack creaked open, and the three men returned, accompanied by my boyfriend. His eyes met mine, filled with tears and a depth of betrayal that cut through me. “You have to finish it,” one of the men said, pushing him forward. My boyfriend approached me, a knife clutched in his trembling hand. Our gazes locked, and I saw the depth of his betrayal in that heart-wrenching moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear as he plunged the knife into my heart. As life drained from my body, Candle Face loomed over me, her ghostly presence steadfast. “Thank you,” she murmured, her fingers tenderly caressing my hair one last time. “You’ve made me real.” My vision faded, and darkness claimed me. Yet, even in death, a profound realization washed over me as I lay in a shallow grave. We often fear what we don’t understand. But sometimes, the actual monsters aren’t the ones that dwell under our beds or haunt our dreams. They are the ones who stand beside us and the ones we create through our disbelief and skepticism. I felt she had more to reveal, but her message was drowned out by the most heart-wrenching sobs I had ever encountered. She offered a faint apology before retreating into the shadows, her passage marked by what appeared to be blood smeared across my floor. Compelled to examine it more closely, I switched on the lights, expecting to see the blood. Surprisingly, no blood was visible, yet metallic blood’s unmistakable, fresh scent lingered in the air. Personal Note to My Readers This testimony is more than merely recounting a lost soul’s suffering; it’s a plea for justice and closure. This girl’s spirit, whose life was marked by such sadness and terror, reaches out from beyond for help that only we, in the living world, can provide. Her story, filled with pain and fear, is also filled with clues - subtle threads woven into the story that may lead to her physical remains and the identification of those responsible for her death. As I relayed her experience, the depth of her anguish was intense, a haunting reminder of the unresolved strife that can entangle a soul. Her testimony is a call to action for each of us - to engage in passive reading and active investigation. This young girl’s spirit seeks what many of us take for granted: the peace that comes with justice and the resolution of a life cut tragically short. Therefore, I implore you, my readers, to investigate her testimony with a keen eye and an open heart. Search for the clues hidden within her words, piece together the puzzle of her tragic end, and join me in this quest to bring her the peace she desperately deserves. It’s through our collective efforts that we can hope to uncover the truth, find her earthly remains, and bring to light the identities of her perpetrators. This journey is not just about solving a mystery but about righting a wrong and extending compassion beyond the veil of death. It’s a chance for us to make a real difference in the world of spirits and to advocate for those who can no longer speak for themselves. Together, we can work on this mission of mercy and justice. Your insights, theories, and discoveries could be pivotal in resolving the lingering anguish of this tormented soul. Key To Understanding To ensure readers grasp the full context and significance of this journal entry, it’s crucial to be familiar with Arthur Mills’ award-winning memoir The Empty Lot Next Door ,  inspired by actual ghostly events in Austin, TX. The memoir provides essential background information, and without it, the nuances and depth of this journal entry might not be fully appreciated. Therefore, reading The Empty Lot Next Door  is highly recommended for a more enriched and coherent understanding of this journal entry's content and implications. To purchase The Empty Lot Next Door , please visit Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/46lCovb eBook for Kindle: https://amzn.to/44YFww4 Purchase Candle Face Chronicles: The Lost Souls [Book One] Paperback:   https://amzn.to/4dz3m7d eBook: https://amzn.to/4bsM6ib Visit Us Online Website: https://www.candleface.com Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/candlefacechronicles Facebook Group (Dream Team Members Only): https://www.facebook.com/groups/candleface YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CandleFace666

January 17, 2024 SPOILER ALERT: This journal entry explores how reader interpretation shapes the understanding of the book, The Empty Lot Next Door , mainly focusing on the differing perspectives of adults and children. If you’re trying to avoid spoilers, it’s advisable not to read further until you’ve finished the book. Reading this journal entry may reveal important plot details that you’d rather discover on your own. The Empty Lot Next Door  can be interpreted differently depending on the reader’s age and life experiences. For adults, the story might resonate as a story about children navigating a dysfunctional world. The struggles faced by my brother Ricky and me, including our interactions with our older siblings Dan and Felix, and the supernatural elements that seem to permeate our lives, might be seen as metaphors for the challenges faced in a troubled family environment. This view focuses on the underlying social and psychological themes, such as the impact of a disturbed setting on a child’s psyche and the coping mechanisms children develop in response to instability and fear. In contrast, younger readers, including children and young adults, might primarily perceive The Empty Lot Next Door  as a ghost story. The supernatural elements, especially the character of Candle Face, are likely to capture their imagination. From this perspective, the story is a thrilling adventure into the paranormal, with the dynamics within our family and the societal context taking a backseat to the excitement and mystery of the ghostly encounters. This contrast in interpretation highlights the complicated nature of the story. The story operates on multiple levels, offering a rich experience that different readers can interpret in various ways. For instance, the empty lot can be seen as a symbol of lost innocence and the unknown dangers of the world to an adult reader. In contrast, a younger reader might see it as a literal playground of mysteries and adventures, an exciting setting for unfolding a ghost story. Another example lies in the character dynamics within the story. Adults might interpret the conflicts and interactions between characters like Dan, Felix, Ricky, and me as reflections of deeper familial and societal issues. These could include the consequences of neglect, the impact of parental absence, and how children are forced to fend for themselves in challenging circumstances. On the other hand, younger readers might focus more on the surface-level story of sibling rivalry and adventure, viewing these interactions as part of the story’s dramatic tension without looking deeply into their psychological or social implications. The differences in interpretation also extend to the book’s conclusion. While adults might read the ending as a commentary on the long-lasting effects of childhood trauma and the difficulty of overcoming past fears, younger readers might see it more as the resolution of a spooky story, with the focus on the fate of Candle Face and the resolution of the ghostly mysteries. This range of interpretations is a testament to the story’s depth and the skill with which it’s crafted. It speaks to the story's ability to engage readers of different ages and backgrounds, offering each a unique experience that resonates with their own perspectives and life experiences. Key To Understanding To ensure readers grasp the full context and significance of this journal entry, it’s crucial to be familiar with Arthur Mills’ award-winning memoir The Empty Lot Next Door ,  inspired by actual ghostly events in Austin, TX. The memoir provides essential background information, and without it, the nuances and depth of this journal entry might not be fully appreciated. Therefore, reading The Empty Lot Next Door  is highly recommended for a more enriched and coherent understanding of this journal entry's content and implications. To purchase The Empty Lot Next Door , please visit Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/46lCovb eBook for Kindle: https://amzn.to/44YFww4 Purchase Candle Face Chronicles: The Lost Souls [Book One] Paperback:   https://amzn.to/4dz3m7d eBook: https://amzn.to/4bsM6ib Visit Us Online Website: https://www.candleface.com Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/candlefacechronicles Facebook Group (Dream Team Members Only): https://www.facebook.com/groups/candleface YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CandleFace666