Loading the books into my bag, I knew that I was going to have the worst holiday in my entire life. Rather than a fun and carefree couple of weeks, I had an assignment to do. The lesson was centered around family and history, so the assignment was about the past. It was a reasonably simple task. All I had to do was research my family tree and find someone notable to talk about. The problem was that my family was as interesting as a blank wall.

Walking home would give me a lot of time to think about who I could ask for information. My parents were the obvious solution, but my grandmother was coming to permanently live with us so she was also a great option.

It started to rain as I walked down the street. I had a few more to go, and I'd be soaked by the time I finally got home.

My eyes narrowed as a familiar beaten-up Volkswagen bus approached. The tooting was loud as my crazy mother waved madly at me. It was like she thought I didn't recognize her and was the only VW in this town.

She pulled over, hitting the puddle I was standing nearby. Water sloshed over my jeans.

"Sorry, honey,"

I shrugged.

"Ready for an afternoon of fun unpacking grandma's things?"

"So, the move went well, I take it?"

Mum nodded and turned the car around.

"She's grumping at your father, making life lots of fun. I had to escape."

"And here I thought you cared."

Crumpling a smile, she patted my thigh.

"You know that I would have come to get you anyway."

"Yeah. I have to find a notable ancestor for an assignment."

"Well, there's not much on my side, but you could ask your grandmother. She knows a lot of history. If that fails, you could always research your father's family. They were one of the originating founders of this town."

I frowned, shifting on the seat to look at my mother.

"What do you mean, originating founders?"

"Your father is not interested in it, much like the giant waste of space next door. Your grandfather refused to talk about the past when he was alive, but I did hear your grandmother say a few things that made me curious. I think that there was a witch in the family."

"Get out of town," I gasped. "A real witch? That's so cool. I always thought we were boring."

"Boring is better than being a witch during the trials. Ask your grandmother if she knows anything. Don't bother with your father. He's never been interested in the family tree, and he's trying to deal with your grandmother. Keeping her occupied for a few hours will do him wonders."

Now I was actually excited and eager to start this assignment. I'd go back to school with an amazing piece of history in my fingers.

The car had barely stopped before I opened the door, itching to get inside. Mum shot me an incredulous glare as she turned off the engine.

Racing over the footpath, I burst in through the door with pure excitement. My grandmother, leaning on her cane, turned her head and smiled.

"My darling Maddison. Come here and give me a hug."

Dumping my bag, I gave her a hug.

"I'm on holiday now."

"That's wonderful, darling."

"But I have an assignment to work on. Mum said that you'd be able to help."

A wrinkled eyebrow raised at me, so I pulled out the task sheet and let her read it. With a sigh, she hobbled over to the lounge and sat down.

"I suppose you're referring to Winnie Grey."

Mum shrugged as she locked the front door.

"Let me tell you about Winifred Grey, nee Taylor."

I grabbed my notebook and a pen, hoping that this would be pure gold. Sitting down, I tucked my legs behind me and waited with burning anticipation.

"Winifred Grey, also known as Winnie to her friends. She married Edward Grey in sixteen-ten, and a few months later, their son was born. Their life was fairly ordinary. Edward was a man of value. He owned a fair amount of land in this area which had come from being the son of Edward Senior. The elder Grey had purchased the land as part of an agreement with other affluent families that would see this town created. The younger Grey was given a large section of his father's estate as a wedding gift. All was going well until out of nowhere, one of the other founding families pointed their finger at Winnie and said she was a witch. There was a horrid craze going around this country and all of Europe."

I was scrabbling to get the notes down.

My family was no longer the blank, boring wall. It had a witch.

"Edward kept a journal. I think it's somewhere in the boxes. I read it not long after your grandfather and I married. Pregnant with your fat headed father, I had to endure a lot of bed rest."

I giggled when I heard dad scoffing from the other room.

"Edward kept a thorough account of those days, and later, he recalled the night that they came for Winnie. He begged them to see reason, and he asked them what her crime was. There was no answer, just a solution. In the dead of night, Winnie was dragged to Lake Crowell, stripped naked and bound her wrists to her ankles. They put her in a rowboat, weighted her down and dropped her overboard."

I stared in disbelief.

"Seriously? No trial, not even a hint of what her crime was?"

My grandmother shook her head.

"To make matters worse, Edward protested but not a whole lot. He arrived at the lake with their son, but he did nothing to stop them. In his journal, he laments that they would not acknowledge him but I think that he didn't care. No son of Grey has ever cared."

Her head flicked to the wall next to the lounge. It's where my father was.

"Just like him. That giant patch of dirt is ours, yet what does he do with it? Mow it once a fortnight. He could do so much and he does so little, just like every Grey before him."

"Maybe they think it's cursed."

Her eyebrows raised with delight.

"Perhaps it is. Go and find the box marked WG."

The box was in the spare room that had been cleared out to use as storage until grandma sorted her rooms out. This was the original family home, and my grandmother opted to move out to a little cottage after my grandfather passed away. Now that she'd had a fall, dad ordered her back to this place.

Dumping the box at her feet, I grabbed a knife and opened it. Grandma shifted forward, rummaging through it until she found a few things to show me.

"This is all that your grandfather ever had from that time. Edward's journal and a key, but I don't know what it's for. There might have been more but I don't know. Your great-grandfather never said a word about it, leaving them to your grandfather in his will."

She looked at me with narrowed eyes.

"You know, I just realized that you're the first girl to be born into the Grey line. Rather curious."

Dad called out to my grandmother. She huffed and slowly got out of the lounge.

"Do with them as you please, Maddison. Your father was never interested, so they're yours now."

Grabbing my bag, I took the items upstairs to my room and began reading about my ancestor, Edward Grey.

I don't know why but I was a little outraged that Edward didn't do much to stop these people. It made me curious, and I wondered if my grandmother was wrong. Maybe he had tried to stop them but couldn't.

Settling in at my desk, I opened the diary and began reading. Flicking through, I came to the part where he wrote about that fateful night where he lost his wife. While I detected a hint of sadness and perhaps remorse, I could tell that Edward didn't really care. In the days after, he talks about a woman, Martha. He employed her to care for the son, but the words and tone he used was highly dubious.

"Cheater, cheater," I whispered. "Did you ask someone to accuse your wife so that you could get rid of her?"

Continuing through the book, I stopped when I found a small envelope tucked in between the pages. It was unopened with a wax seal keeping it shut. On the front of the envelope was the word maleficia. Looking the word up on the internet, the results showed a definition of maleficium, which I guess was close. The definition was that it was an act of witchcraft that resulted in damage, injury or harm.

Did this envelope have Winnie's crimes listed within? It was strange that no one had ever opened it. My fingers ran over the wax seal. Curiosity was getting the better of me.

Opening it, I pulled back the flap. At that moment, a crack of lightning boomed, rattling everything in the house. I looked up at the sky that should have been grey from the storm clouds. It was now black.

Lightning shot up from the clouds. High in the sky were black clouds but in the center was a myriad of purples. It was also where the lightning was coming from.

I didn't want to think it was a crazy coincidence, but the cloud formation just happened to be over Lake Crowell.

Something flew past the window, and I shrieked. It was a bird, another followed but it was the strangest thing. The bird was flying backwards.

The key on my desk began to rattle. It then began repeatedly hitting the wall like it was trying to go somewhere.

Pocketing the key, I felt it tug at my jeans. Grabbing the journal and the envelope, I began reading the piece of paper inside it. Well, I tried to. It was in another language.

"What is going on?" my mother shrieked.

She turned from the window, looking anxious.

"The world's gone mad out there."

Hearing a bump, I turned and watched my father walk out like a zombie in a trance.

"It's the curse."

I whirled around to see my grandmother leaning on her cane.

"You opened the letter, didn't you, Maddison?"

"Was I supposed to ignore it? You didn't say anything about it."

She smiled.

"Edward wrote that he heard his wife scream about a letter. He feared that his wife was truly a witch because she said it would appear when it was the time to do so. He was also worried that his descendants would be doomed by her hand."

"Do you know what this says?"

Francine took the letter and nodded.

"It's from Winnie. Curiously, it reads as if she was already dead when she wrote it. Whoever is the bearer of the letter and breaks the seal shall unleash my wrath upon the accusatory town and the family that has forsaken me. The sons of Grey shall come to my grave and join me in the afterlife unless I am freed from my eternal tomb."

We all turned and looked at dad, who was thumping himself against the door.

"If that door opens, he will be free. To save your father from what I assume is a watery grave, you will have to figure out how to free Winnie."

"Right," I grumbled. "A woman that's been dead for over four hundred years."

Dad groaned, and when I looked at him, I saw something white flash past the window. I raced over and gasped.

"Oh. My. God."

"Is that a ghost?" mum asked.

We looked at each other and then turned to my father, who was still banging his body against the door.

"I have no idea how I can fix this."

"Well, you have to figure it out. I'll keep an eye on your father. You can sneak out the back door."

The key was still trying to escape my pocket. One brief look at the mess I'd caused for my father and I escaped into the darkness.

Climbing onto my bike, I pushed it out to the street and began peddling fast through the streets.

Reaching Lake Crowell was not much of a task. The view of the place was usually picturesque, but now it appeared dangerous. Chaos around us but serene on the lake. It was like we were in the eye of a storm. Near the center was a ghost floating over the lake.

Something shifted in the corner of my eye, and I jumped with fright. I saw a skeleton and it was about to walk into the water.

"Sons of Grey shall come to my grave and join me in the afterlife. I would bet my allowance that it's my grandfather."

He would probably be the only one that was still formed like that. The others were part of the earth now. As I looked around, I saw a lot of ghosts floating towards the lake.

"All these souls will be unsettled."

And, of course, my father will be dead if I don't figure this out.

"I need to find a way to free Winnie."

The problem was that I didn't know where she was and if she was actually in this lake. I mean, the ghost hovering over the one spot was a good sign, but it didn't make any of this easier.

The key in my pocket was still pushing against the material. I pulled it out and felt the surge. It was dragging me to the water.

Removing my jacket, I left it with my bike then walked along the jetty.

Climbing down into the rowboat, I wrapped the twine around my wrist so that the key was free to point me in the right direction. It was a slow process, but I reached a section of the lake that was not quite the middle but close. The key began dragging my arm to the bottom of the boat.

Sighing heavily, I unwrapped the twine and held the key.

"Okay, Winnie. Be nice. I'm here to find your body and free you from the grave that you were so undeservedly given."

I thought about it for a moment and then smiled softly.

"I don't have much in my savings, Winnie, but if you like, I could pay for you to be buried in the cemetery. There might not be enough evidence to get a pardon for you, but I will try. So, how about it? Want to stop this craziness and rest peacefully?"

Winnie stopped, looking at me. My heart was racing the fastest it ever had. I held up the key that was straining in my fingers.

"If I go down there, will I find you?"

"Daughter of Grey," the wind whispered. "The first to care."

Yeah, that's me. All because of a stupid school assignment. If it meant that Winnie could rest in peace, then it was worth it. I hope.

Climbing over the edge, I took a deep breath and plunged into the cold water. It was dark, and I had no idea where to go. Winnie illuminated the area as she joined me under the water, guiding me to where she died.

I didn't expect to see a four-hundred-year-old skeleton in such perfect condition but it was. Like grandma said, her wrists were bound to her ankles. I thought they would have used rope but it was chains and one lock kept them tight. Holding out the key, I pushed it into the lock and turned it.

Despite it being underwater for four hundred years, it too was in perfect condition. As the latch opened, I pulled the chains out and loosened them enough to pull the bones free. Slowly the skeleton began to rise, remaining in perfect formation.

I followed it up, gasping for air when I surfaced. Winnie's remains floated on the surface. Gently I guided it to the boat and lifted it over the edge. I tried to be as respectful as I could because I was dealing with one powerful witch. Because yes, Winnie was clearly a witch.

Climbing into the boat, I began to row back to the jetty. Winnie was still hanging around, but the other ghosts and the skeleton were gone.

Hearing tires screech, I looked up and saw my parents and my grandmother. They were stunned. Thankfully though, my father was no longer a death seeking zombie.

"Winnie needs to be buried in the cemetery."

"Uh, okay." my mother said.

"We have plots available, Allison. We'll take Winnie there and get it organized."

The ghost moved around me, rushing to my father. His eyes widened as she analyzed him.

"Son of Grey. One who cares." the wind whispered.

Dad nodded, looking a little ashamed.

"It was time to break the cycle."

We carefully wrapped the bones in a blanket and placed Winnie in the back of the car. The sky began to return to the dull grey sky, and the craziness settled. Winnie had been freed and now she would spend her days and nights resting peacefully.

I will write my assignment about Winnie. I will also petition for her to be pardoned from the crime that was never stated and the accusation of being a witch. I might even try to get a formal apology for her while I'm at it.

It was likely that no one would believe that this chaos or the paranormal activity was real and caused by my ancestor but that was okay. I knew that it was the truth.

Winnie was free from her watery grave, and that's all that mattered.