Diary of a Dead Girl?
I want to start off by saying that what you’re about to read you probably won’t believe. And that’s fine. Really. I don’t know if I’d believe it either if I were you.
But it’s the truth.
I’ve been in my new house for less than one month. It took me awhile to unpack and get organized, and I’ll admit that I put some of it off. I did my best though and just hadn’t gotten the chance to clean out the attic until recently. In California, where I live, attics aren’t normally used for storage like you see in movies. Most of us don’t have attics full of old family heirlooms, including a dusty old trunk full of vintage clothes. I hate to tell you, but here in California, attics are used to collect nothing more than dust and mice.
So I was more than surprised when I found a diary up there. It sounds so cliche! I only went up there to put down mice traps as a precaution. As soon as I lifted the hatch, I saw it. A white diary with a keyless lock. It took me only a few minutes to break it open (don’t judge me!). I kind of wish I hadn’t though.
Even though I’m actively writing my stories that I post on Wattpad (@elle_wrote_it), I think this diary needs to be shared. For a horror lover like myself, it’s just too good not to share! Plus, I could use some opinions and thoughts on it, in all honesty. I really don’t know what to do.
The pages that follow are excerpts from the diary. I haven’t read it all the way through yet; not even close. Between settling into the house, working full time, writing, etc., I barely have any free time as it is. But this diary has started to claim the few moments of free time I do have, let me tell you. The more I read, the more in fear I become that this diary is real. If it’s not, why go through all the trouble writing it and then hiding it where no one would normally find it?
Anyway, I don’t care if you believe me or not. I found this strange diary and I intend to read it to the end and figure out if this is real, fake, and most importantly, if there is really a girl out there somewhere who’s in serious danger. You’ll see why I think that as soon as you start to read it.
Please let me know what you guys think. I’ll continue to post pages as much as I can. Comment your thoughts and feel free to ask questions. Maybe together we can solve this? Either way, I need your help. I need to know what happened to this girl if this is, in fact, the diary of a dead girl.
Dear Diary, Well, I guess I should introduce myself, huh? My name is Jenna, but you can call me Jinx, everyone else does. I’m seventeen and completely ordinary in every way – other than the fact that I am totally jinxed.
I’m not exaggerating, ok? I’m cursed, doomed, or hexed. I have been jinxed for the past year and I don’t know how to stop it. My best friend Cash is the one who came up with my nickname after he witnessed firsthand how my luck took a turn for the worst. And now everyone calls me Jinx. I actually kinda like it. Anyway, at first, he only agreed to help me because he thought I was either lying or completely crazy. But then he realized that I was neither. I was telling the truth.
Now he and I set out to try to break this curse of mine. Whether we run into ghosts, monsters, demons, and everything evil that you can imagine, Cash and I have promised to stick together. I’m glad I don’t have to go through this alone anymore.
When this first started I decided to start documenting everything by writing it down in a journal. I like writing and have always written stories and stuff, so I figure this is a good way to practice writing, if nothing else.
The pages are a bit out of order, but that’s okay. I figure if anything ever happens to me, someone will read this and know what happened. Until then, this journal is kept hidden safely in the attic. My parents don’t even know. They would think I was crazy if I told them.
IMPORTANT: I guess if you’re reading this then that means something has happened to me.
TO THE PERSON WHO FINDS THIS: Hopefully you can figure out what happened to me and if I need help. I’m probably dead, but please don’t give up until you know that for sure.
Please call my best friend Cash: (310) 776-XXXX (Sorry guys, had to block out some of the numbers!)
If you can’t find him, then he’s probably with me. Please help us if you can. If we’re gone, it’s for a very, very bad reason.
My hands are still shaking so much. They were worse earlier. It was so hard to keep them steady. I drew in a deep, cool breath and released it into the night air, aimed my gun, and pulled the trigger. The shot rang through my ears and I flinched backwards. He dropped to the ground, his body now slumped on the wet asphalt.
Did I kill him?
You probably think I’m a murderer. What else do you call it when you shoot someone and they die? Maybe you’re right. I’m not even sure anymore. I used to tell myself it was self defense.
I’m never able to get used to staying home alone. I mean, one night wouldn’t be a big deal. But three weeks? It was a lot longer than I first thought. My parents are on vacation, leaving me home alone for the first time. I’m old enough and can definitely take care of myself, so it wasn’t a big deal. I’m a responsible girl.
The first few nights I had parties and sleepovers with a few girls from my Chemistry class. But after that, the excitement of not having my parents around wore off. Plus, my house was a mess! I grew tired of all the constant cleaning. (I’m kind of a neat freak). The pizza delivery guy had memorized my order, too. I craved a home cooked meal and some peace and quiet. Ugh I’m such an old lady, right?
Tonight, I made dinner and then decided to take a shower before changing into my pj’s and watching a movie. My bathroom mirror started to fog up with steam as I undressed. The hot water of the shower ran over me and I closed my eyes as it drenched my long hair down my back. But right as I opened my eyes, I could swear there was someone standing in front of me. I screamed and almost slipped from jumping in fright. My heart was pounding.
No one was there.
Figuring my eyes were playing tricks on me, I poured shampoo into my palm and lathered it on top of my head. Leaning my head back, I rinsed the suds out. Next was conditioner, so I opened my eyes again. This time I was certain I saw someone. A tall, gawky man stood in front of my face. He was dressed in all black, with a black knit cap on his head. And his face…I don’t know how to describe it. His eyes were like black holes. His nose was crooked and swollen, the tip red as blood. I’ll never forget his mouth either. Pale, chapped and cracked lips that parted to reveal his jagged teeth. I expected him to snarl. It was horrifying.
I jumped back against the shower screaming. He was gone. My body trembled as I shut the water off, grabbed my towel and ran. I locked my bedroom door and got dressed. I was shaking. The bathroom had been so quiet. I hadn’t heard anyone come in or out. Even with the water running, I could still hear if someone else had been in there with me. At least, I thought I could.
I know I saw him. I know I did! It sounds crazy, but it’s the truth. A terrifying monster of a man stood inches from me when I opened my eyes in the shower. Then, in a flash, he was gone. Minutes later, he had returned. And like the first time, he disappeared within seconds. I sat on the edge of my bed and shook my head in confusion.
I’m too scared to close my eyes in the shower ever again. I don’t know how I’m going to wash my hair. I’m too embarrassed to call my parents. Plus, I don’t want to ruin their vacation. They’d never leave me home alone again.
So, I convinced myself that it was all in my head. I struggled to fall asleep, tossing and turning in my bed. Just as I was dozing off, my room got really cold. Like freezing. I could feel the cold air fill my lungs when I breathed. And then I felt a warmth on my face. It was really quick, but I felt it. I opened my eyes and there he was again. The scary man that I know I saw in the shower earlier. His face was suspended above mine. When I looked into his eyes, it was like looking into dark holes in the ground. It reminded me of dug up graves. I could feel his breath on my face, hitting my nose and cheeks. I screamed and tried to get up, but a force of some kind was holding me down. He smiled and his lips cracked and started bleeding. I was so scared that I couldn’t even cry. I just squeezed my eyes shut and waited.
And then…nothing. He was gone. I turned on every light in the house and then ran back to my bed. I decided to sleep in my parents’ room. My dad has a gun that he keeps in their closet, so I got it and placed it under the pillow. I’ve gone shooting with my dad a few times for target practice, but I wish I had taken it more seriously and learned how to really shoot. Still, even if my aim is bad, I was hoping the sight of the gun would be enough to scare this creep off.
I barely slept. Between fearing the man would come back and having all the lights on, I just laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. Finally, I decided to get up and watch TV. Then I called my best friend, Cash, and begged him to come over. He laughed at me and said I was scared of being home alone, but I told him that wasn’t it. He said he’d come over later that night since he was busy all day.
I went out and stayed out all day. Can you blame me? When I finally got back home, I was on high alert, but the house was quiet. I stayed in my parents’ room, waiting for Cash to come over. He texted and said he was on his way, much to my relief. As I waited, I used my parents’ bathroom and tried to rinse out my hair. I wasn’t ready to take another shower just yet, even though I know how gross that sounds. The water must have been a lot hotter than I thought it would be because their mirror filled up with steam pretty fast. I rinsed my hair quickly and grabbed my hair towel. As I stood up straight, I stared at their mirror. Someone had taken their finger and written on the steamed up mirror. It said “I’m watching you”.
I called out for Cash, but no one answered. I ran and got my dad’s gun and aimed it at the bathroom. No one came out. I jumped when I heard a knock on our back door, even though that’s how Cash comes over all the time. I was so relieved to think he was over that I made a mad dash for the door. Maybe I was going too fast, but I unlocked it and threw it open, expecting to see him there. Instead, I was just staring into our yard. It was a little foggy, but not as bad as it gets usually. Our property extends pretty far back – that’s the reason my parents bought this house. They said they loved the privacy and the quiet of not having any neighbors close by. I really hate them for that right now. I would love to have a neighbor next door! I still had the gun and aimed it into the fog. I wasn’t about to shoot though – I didn’t want to shoot Cash or an animal or anything. I called out for him and was answered by crickets. This was probably dumb, but I took a step outside after turning on the outside light. If it wasn’t so foggy, I could have seen clearly. I could’ve sworn I heard a moaning sound, like someone was hurt. What if that scary man hurt Cash?
I know you’re saying Call the police! and that’s great if you live anywhere near a police station. But we don’t. We’re out in the middle of nowhere. It would take the cops forever and a day to get here and Cash could be dead by then. At least if I could get to him first…
It wasn’t Cash. The fog grew really thick and I heard the moaning again. It was definitely a person. I couldn’t see anyone or anything. I had to go back inside, but I couldn’t. As I turned to run back into the house, the man was standing behind me. My entire body was trembling. I know he was going to grab me and drag me away. I could feel it. It was like I could tell exactly what he was thinking.
I spun around and ran as fast as I could. The man came after me – I could hear his heavy footsteps in our grass. I hadn’t been that far out on our property before. He was getting closer. I knew if he got me, I’d be gone forever and no one would ever know what happened to me. So, I turned around and as he came at me, I pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot was much stronger and louder than I anticipated. My ears were ringing. But I got him. Even with my poor aim, I hit him and he dropped to the ground. Cash heard the shot and came running. He was freaked out, as was I. I tried to explain what happened, but my story barely made any sense. He kept asking me, “Who did you shoot?” and all I could do was say, “the scary man” and point to where he had fallen.
Cash told me to stay where I was and went to go look. I tried to protest, but I was in shock, I think. When Cash went to find the man, he wasn’t there. He was gone. Cash thought I had lost my mind. But I know what I saw. I know I’m not crazy.