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15th June, 19XX:
7pm:
I finally did it. I left everything behind and moved to this old house in the middle of nowhere. Away from distractions. [M̷̧̮̱͓̈́̓̐Λ̶̧͖͓̦͆̽͝Я̶̟̊͜K̸̙̓̕͘] would have hated it— But honestly, [HE] didn't like my old house, being too creepy and such. But now, I have some space, some quiet. No more distractions.
I just want to heal.
To forget.
The house is fine—creaky floors and dusty corners, but I can work with this. I think I’ll be okay here. I can't wait to make more memories.
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19th June, 19XX:
10pm:
I’ve settled in well now. The isolation is easier than I expected. I’m starting to forget what it felt like to have someone around, which is probably for the best. Just me, and my thoughts.
There's an odd breeze every now and then. But this house is old, so it's nothing to worry about. Probably just some hole in the wall. I'll check where the breeze is coming from tomorrow. Today though, I'll rest.
I'm getting used to being alone.
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1st October, 19XX:
3pm:
I went to get a snack, but the living room lamp was on. I probably just forgot to turn it off, even though I usually check if everything is off. I'm probably overthinking.
I'll go back to bed.
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25th March, 19XX:
1am:
I heard a knock on the door a few minuted ago, but there wasn't anyone outside. I guess my mind is playing tricks on me. Is this what happens when you're alone?
2am:
I found a key on the floor of the kitchen. I've put it in my pocket for now.
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2nd April, 19XX:
I found his old book in the wardrobe. The pages are worn, but his name is still written on the cover. I can’t throw it away. It’s one of the only things I have of his left.
I miss him.
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5th May, 19XX:
1am:
Something’s in my house.
The boarded window was broken. I've boarded it again, but that won't save me. I've put a knife under my bed for now.
But I doubt it'll do anything.
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25th August, 19XX:
2pm:
There's eyes in my walls now. Literally. I woke up, and saw them staring at me.
I'm not safe.
I'm scared.
I keep the knife in my pocket. I have to check my wardrobes and drawers and check every room to see if anything is there.
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X September, 19XX:
The eyes are so disorientating. They made me dizzy, so I sleep in the spare bedroom, although it smells of dry blood. Also, I checked the wardrobes and the drawers...
There was nothing out the ordinary. But everything feels so off. The clocks stopped moving so I don't know what the time is.
Help me.
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X [DECEMBER?], 19XX:
I refuse to un-board the windows and the doors. I will keep them on. I must keep them on.
I woke up, as usual, and saw a noose hanging from the ceiling. It seemed familiar. Is it trying to give me a sign?
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[??], 19XX:
I had finally decided to leave the spare room to explore. I went to check the bathroom first, and it was as bad as I expected.
Thorns everywhere.
I got to the sink, and looked in the mirror. I stared at the reflection. It stared back. I was going to wash my face but the sink was infested with bugs, so I scratched the idea. I looked back at the reflection. It was me. I think. The only normal thing in this place. It was smiling. So I smiled back, and left. I went down the hallway, ignoring the walls staring at me, and to the stairs. They had holes all over them. I ignored it and went down, but they broke along the way, so when I got to the floor, I was in a bit of a mess. I felt the warm blood running down my head, but it's fine. I'm fine.
I was a bit dazed, so I decided to lay down on the living room couch. And today is going better. I don't think I can go to the first floor again.
Nothing in the wardrobes and drawers.
Yet.
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[E̷̪͔̟̓̓͐M̶̭̙̽̑̎ ̸̞̾̐P̵̠̿͊̈́L̶̮͇̋͆̕E̴̤̩͊H̶̠͖͙͋], 666:
The kitchen was horrible. I felt so hungry, so I opened the kitchen door, before being hit with suffocating heat. And the warmth in the room was so unbearable, it burned my hand, leaving it red, raw and definitely stinging. Luckily not my dominant hand, so I can still write this. The living room has mannequins facing the couch. Which wasn't something that I wanted to see every morning, so I threw them into the kitchen. They're gone now. But I've been starving. I'm so hungry, but there isn't much to eat that's actually edible. And my door is boarded up anyway. I'll have a look around.
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[??]:
My head still hurts from the stair incident, and the burn mark is still there. I don't think I can use it ever again. But it's fine. I'm fine.
I checked around the place, and found out that the key lead to the basement, so I left the key in the lock.
I found a dead cat in the drawer below the TV. It smells horrible. But i'm starving.
Am I that desperate?
...
Yes.
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[??]:
I keep finding stuff in drawers now. I even found a gun. Honestly, I'm getting used to this life now.
I can get used to this.
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...
I woke up a few minutes ago.
And I had the photo in my hand.
Why does this have to happen?
I want to go back. To the old days. I want to hug him.
One last time.
I miss him.
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...
I heard knocking from the front door. So I got up to look out the window as best as I could.
I saw it.
I went to the basement door and turned the key. And now I'm here, sitting in the basement. I had locked the door behind me, and now I hear it knocking on the basement door.
It's coming for me.
But.
I'm not going to give myself up like that.
I think it's time.
The gun has a bullet in it.
If something or someone was going to take me down,
It would be me.