PARABOLICAL GRAFFITI

Quidditch. I need Quidditch.

Since arriving in this strange land known as Los Angeles, a woman at this library has been kind enough to teach me to work this machine. She tells me if I write in it, others will write back. I am not sure I trust her, or this machine, or anything that is here.

My name is Charlotte Lorena Doyle. I was born in 1818. I am fourteen years old and I am the captain of the Seahawk. That is all I am certain of anymore.

This definitely isn't Frell or Giantville or any part of Lamiere that I've ever seen. The buildings are made of...metal? And there are moving things on wheels that are apparently not afraid to run you over. There has to be some really strange magic here.

And, as if that isn't bad enough, MY CURSE IS BACK! I thought I'd gotten rid of the thing when I married Char, but no. It's back. And no matter how many times I order myself not to be obedient, it won't go away again. This is ridiculous! And...and...and...I don't know what to do. Mandy's not here and neither is Benny or Slannon. Areida's not here or Char. I'd even settle for Lucinda at this point!

All I can ask is...why me?

Um, hello. My name is Ella...Ella of Frell. Can anyone tell me where this is? Or more importantly, why there's no sun?