December 14, 2010
By _iSHELBY_ BRONZE, Auburn, Alabama
_iSHELBY_ BRONZE, Auburn, Alabama
2 articles 1 photo 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"To wish you were someone else is to waste the person you are."

Monday October 25, 2004 3:14 am

Most people tell me I’m too paranoid, but they don’t know how it feels. I have had the same nightmare since the last new moon. The same rooms, the same hallways, and the same horrifying creature. I’ve been visited in my sleep every night. I wake up exhausted, like I’ve been running. Sometimes I reach over to hold my arm where I was bitten, but there’s nothing there. No scar, no blood, no bruise. Whenever I close my eyes I see… it. I can clearly remember that devilish grin, as if I’d seen it right in front of me.

Tuesday October 26, 2004 6:03 am

This is the first time I’ve slept until the alarm. It was there in my sleep again, but this time it did not come for me. It only watched me as I ran away. Nothing felt as real compared to others. I felt like the creature was fading, maybe these journals are actually helping. The warm sting on my arm was missing too.

Wednesday October 27, 2004 4:29 am

The blackest night of all. Nothing came to visit me. Its absence made me nervous. Now the absence of sleep is chasing.

Thursday October 28, 2004 3:11 am

Something was in my room last night. I don’t know who… or what. I tried checking the doors, windows, everything. Nothing has been moved or touched. The locks are still in place and I have no spare key. All I remember is waking up to a tapping sound. It sounded like something was under my bed, pecking. But when I reached for the light, it stopped.

Friday October 29, 2004 3:17 am

That same pecking woke me up again, not too long ago. Only this time, I could feel it. I tried not to be afraid, but it was too real. I knew I wasn’t dreaming when it got louder and more prominent. It wasn’t pecking, it was carving. Scratching into the underneath side of my mahogany bed frame.

Saturday October 30, 2004 3:12 am

‘Miss me Jane?’ My bed is now engraved with this one phrase. To whoever might read this, I’m not crazy. The carving wasn’t continued this morning so I took the silence as an advantage to check what had been done the night before. Of course I was acting like a child, too afraid to look, but curiosity beat me. No dream of mine could have ever included such vivid imagery. It, whatever it is, knows me.

3:15 am? When is this going to stop?

I rolled over on my side to face my laptop. This journal was going to have to wait. I scowled back at my alarm clock. I rubbed my arm where the burning had returned.

What was that?

Something was moving downstairs. It sounded like tapping, scratching? No, Carving. It was underneath me. All of the oxygen in my body escaped me. I pinched myself; that didn’t work. I tried harder to find some air, but nothing was happening. Whatever this thing was, it was not giving up. Just a few more seconds and maybe it’ll stop. Wrong. It’s still going. It doesn’t sound right. It sounds like this thing is trying to carve faster, like he’s angry. Okay, I’ll jump from the bed so it can’t grab my ankles and I’ll close the door behind me and make a run for the kitchen. I flew the covers back, raised myself up and leapt from my bed. I slammed the door behind me and ran for the stairs. I tried to be careful when I ran so I wouldn’t fall. It’d surely catch me then. I was running through my hallways. They seemed much longer than usual. Everything was dark and cold. The floor felt like ice on my fast feet. I reached the kitchen. I hurled myself at the knife drawer only to find that they were all gone. More scratching but when I turned around it wasn’t what I thought. This thing, whatever it was, was crawling. One arm after another, feet dragging behind. The halls were too dark for me to see the face. The body jerked and shook like a seizure but that wasn’t phasing it. Three arms, not two.

This can’t be happening. Oh, but it was.

I crossed the room in three long strides and found myself in the living room. The gun my father gave me was in the closet. It was still crawling after me, scratching one floor board at a time. I knew that in just a few more seconds, I’d be safe. I would’ve gotten rid of it and gotten help. My nightmares were real. They had all been so real in my head because they were. I’ve been unconsciously chased by this monster every night in my sleep and it was finally here, in my living room, coming after me with no reason but to hurt me. I knew how this story was going to end. The scratching became faster; it was picking up the pace to come get me. I reached the closet and fumbled through the coats and the boxes. It was gone. The stupid gun was gone. It was behind me again, ripping through my floor boards. A lamp and decorative box were to my left while a pillow was to my right. I picked up the lamp and threw it as hard as I could toward his deformed head, still no face. It paused and the anger shook him some more. The thing raised itself up and bit my right arm, where the burning had been. I ran to the door and swung it open. I needed to go get help. Ouch. I was too busy looking behind me to realize there were steps in front of my house. I fell down every single one. My legs were numb and blood poured down my face. It took all of my strength to pull myself up. When I reached my normal height, I felt breathing. I slowly turned to see that devilish grin from my nightmares. This was it; my life was nothing but a nightmare.

“Hello Jane.”

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This article has 2 comments.

on Dec. 26 2010 at 5:13 pm
_iSHELBY_ BRONZE, Auburn, Alabama
2 articles 1 photo 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"To wish you were someone else is to waste the person you are."

Ah I know, it was hard to try and fix without changing the story. but thank you!

Cuore GOLD said...
on Dec. 18 2010 at 10:18 pm
Cuore GOLD, Saint Augustine, Florida
12 articles 0 photos 33 comments

Favorite Quote:
Be the change you wish to see- Ghandi

Everything in this room is eatable, even I'm eatable, but that my dears is called cannibalism and is highly frowned upon in most societies.- Willy Wonka

Bright lights often blind those who can't see. ~

This is an awesome story! I like how you used jounal entries. There is some parallel construction (switching from past to present tense), but other than that great.


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