Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

I’m going to die today. Unfortunate, I know. I’ve recently finished reading this book, it was very interesting; fairly creepy as well. Did it give me the shivers? Yes, it really did. But now I’m going to die. Why can’t I live any longer? Well, that’s not for me to decide. It’s too late. I can’t escape now. If I turn around…I don’t even want to think about it. No, I really don’t. It’s that horrific. That terrifying. And it’s right behind me, breathing down my neck. Can I feel the breath? Yes, yes I can. It’s starting to really bother me, almost become a nuisance. There’s some crackling noise now…I know I can hear it. There’s no denying, I can definitely hear it. If I just listen close enough, if I just pay enough attention to the apparent silence…it will take control of me.

This book I read…it was really strange. It was almost as if something was…speaking to me. Telling me what to do, what to write down as I had a book of my own to finish. But this story was just so interesting, so entrancing. It was about a person, somebody, it was strange. I didn’t exactly know the person, it was just somebody. I know I didn’t like that person very much though. They had been looking into my secrets, trying to steal into what I considered precious and dearest. I managed to seal these secrets, though. Seal them deep down, somewhere safe. Somewhere where you’ll never find them.

Stop looking into my secrets, you fool. That’s right, I’m talking to you. Do you know me? No, of course you don’t know me. You know nothing about me. All I know is that you’re reading my diary. Why are you reading my diary? Are you trying to figure something out about me? Are you some sort of assassin, trying to kill me? Good luck. You won’t ever be able to kill me. It’s practically impossible. I will go on and on, doing what I do best. Are you simply curious about my life, a meaningless someone’s life? Somebody you’ll never meet in your entire life? Well, actually, I believe you have met me now that I think about it. You know me very well.

What do I sound like? Well, however you want me to sound like. What do I look like? Well, that’s up to you to decide. Because in reality, you created me. You formulated something in your mind to create my existence. How else can you read this and imagine that voice in your head speaking these words to you? Something about me exists. But still, I wonder. Why did you do that? Why did you create me? Are you lonely? In need of a friend? I can be your friend. I can be whatever you want me to be. Because you created me, you made me. But if you created me, how can you be invading my secrets? Does that mean that these are your secrets? Did you write this? I think you did write this. This diary, it’s yours, isn’t it? That’s pretty strange. Are you a good writer? Whether the answer is yes or no, it’s always good to proofread anything you’ve written. Go ahead, proofread. Go read this over again. Maybe you’ll notice something. Stop when you feel you’ve gotten the message.

Look out.