Grandfather's Three Prohibitions

Before his death, my grandfather left me three strict orders: Don't touch, don't ask, don't open anything in the old house. I didn't take it seriously until I pushed open the door and found everything was wrong. The wooden box in the main room opened by itself, and the diary inside read: When you see these words, I am no longer me. Uncle Wang stopped me from entering, saying that what my grandfather guarded all his life was not the house but what was inside. Uncle Li sat on the ground, his eyes vacant, muttering: It's awake... it's finally awake... The black-and-white photo of my grandfather on the wall, his mouth slowly curling up at me. I thought the old house was haunted, but only when I turned to the last page of the diary did I understand—the 'it' my grandfather wrote about had been by my side all along.