Friday, August 28, 2015
I should of said, "No". We should of said, "No". I wish we could take it back.
We didn't even know them.
It's so dark. I can't see anything.
I can barely move.
I don't know how long I've been in here.
I think I urinated on myself.
My fingers are raw, and throbbing. I can smell blood.
It's such a small box. Laura is beside me. She stopped breathing. She is getting cold.
The air is getting thick.
I want to go home. I want to hear my brothers fighting. I want my mom to yell at me for not cleaning my room. I want my dad to ground me.
Help me please.
I want to go home.
Friday, August 21, 2015
A magician's bag.
It's full of tricks.
My uncle left me his. It's been passed down for generations.
When I was little, my uncle would pull out a set of teeth on hinges from the bag. He would chase me, trying to bite me with them.
They were made out my grandfather's teeth. They took them out after he was dead.
When I opened the bag, they were in there.
I threw them away. I don't want them near me.
I think he wants them back.
He's here right now.
He's been pulling out my hair when I sleep. There are bunches missing. I wake up screaming from the pain.
It's gathered into piles. It's on top of the fridge. I found it yesterday when I was cleaning.
I don't know how to give him his teeth back. I took them out of the garbage, and put them back into the bag.
In the morning I will find where he is buried. I will put them in the ground with him.
Maybe then, he will leave me alone.
Friday, August 14, 2015
They're not suppose to move.
They're not suppose to be alive.
This one is.
I bought an old busted up mannequin from a thrift shop. I wanted to scare my roommate on our camping trip. I got here a couple days before her, so I could set it up.
It's alive. I know this is crazy, but it's true.
Last night I found it whispering in my ear. It was inside my tent. I pushed it away from me.
I ran to my car, but it won't start. It did something to it. I know it.
Running away, I fell down a hill.
My leg is busted. I see bone.
It's dark out here now. I hear it coming.
It walks like a spider. I see it getting closer in the moonlight.
I don't want to die.
Friday, August 7, 2015
I've locked all the doors.
I've locked all the windows.
I must not get out. I can't let anyone in.
The old man at the end of the road finally got sick of me cutting through his property. I never believed the stories that he practiced voodoo. But, now I do.
He cursed me.
For the first time I saw him smile. He acted like he was biting me, then laughed long and hard as I ran.
The last few days I have woken up with blood in my mouth. Pieces of flesh in my mouth.
I must be doing it when I am asleep. It's bad. Pieces of me are missing.
I can't fall asleep.
It's the curse. Curses are real.