This is the journal of Harold Spencer, found next to his body on the afternoon of August 8th, 2010.

August 13th, 2009

Emily gave me this journal today, saying it might be good for me to write stuff down, so I'm doing that.

I guess I'm supposed to write about my day... It's weird putting my thoughts on paper, but it might be easier to think of this as writing a letter to a friend. Yeah, that'll work.

Emily and her kids came over today because it's my birthday. James and Maria are growing so fast; I wish they could visit more. People always say you get lonelier as you get older, and they're totally right. Even with Rose and Elliot around, I miss everyone else a lot.

After Emily and the kids left, I went to the garage to work on my new project. I'm making a small chair for Maria, but I hope she doesn't get too big before I finish it. The weird thing is I couldn't find my screwdriver, and I looked everywhere. I always keep my tools in the same spot, so it's strange.

I decided to call it a day on the project and went upstairs to watch a new TV show with Rose. It was pretty cool... about a chemistry teacher. I can't remember the name right now, but I'll figure it out. Aging can be a bitch.

October 23th, 2009

My silent confidant, dealing with Elliot lately, has been a real challenge. On top of him being out of work for over a year, he's started nitpicking and arguing with me about the silliest stuff.

I was hunting around for the house keys today, and he jumped in to help. Naturally, I said yes because it's such a small thing, right? I mean, everybody misplaces their keys all the time.

But Elliot found them super fast, right on my nightstand, of all places. It could've been a funny, "Oh, look at that" moment, but no, he had to make a big deal about it and acted like I was being forgetful or something.

It was just a key!

And, of course, I didn’t just let it slide. I stood up for myself because, well, I had to. I’m an 80-year-old veteran, for crying out loud. I’m allowed to forget things from time to time. I won't stand for being disrespected in my own house, especially not by my son.

Sorry for the rant, trusty journal. I just needed to get that off my chest.

Maybe I should make peace with Elliot, though. Despite it all, he's a good kid.

December 24th, 2009

I'm at a loss for why Rose acted the way she did.

I've been mulling over this morning's incident all day.

Just yesterday, I picked up a gift for Elliot: a shiny new phone, one of those high-end ones. Now, I don't usually splurge like that, but here's the thing: Elliot's diving into a new venture, making use of my old carpentry tools, and selling some woodwork (proud to see the little bastard finally tapping into the family talent).

I caught a segment on TV about how the internet's all the rage now, with folks selling all sorts of items online. That got me thinking—what if Elliot had a phone with a camera? He could interact with clients and snap photos of his work from one device.

I didn't loop Rose in on the plan. I just headed to the store and bought the phone. But oh, she was not happy. Not one bit. She continued about how it was too pricey and reckless and questioned if I could take it back.

I stood my ground, though. I insisted it was a thoughtful gift and that Elliot could benefit.

She didn't push further, and that was that. I tucked the gift away in the wardrobe and went to bed.

But come morning, the gift had vanished. Not wanting another silly argument, I took up the search myself and found it tucked away under our bed, hidden in a quiet corner.

What's Rose's angle in hiding it from me? I'm struggling to find any logical explanation. If I were the type to buy into ghost stories, I'd be getting scared right about now.

February 12th, 2010

I'm freaked out. Can you believe that? I'm actually scared. I woke up super thirsty last night, and Rose wasn't in bed. I thought she was probably in the bathroom, so I headed downstairs to get some water. But then I heard them talking in the kitchen, trying to keep their voices down.

"How long can we keep pretending?" That was Rose, talking so low she probably thought I couldn't hear.

"Not much longer, Mom. Things are bad. We gotta do something," Elliot said.

"He won't want to. You know how he is."

"We don't need him to agree, Mom. Soon, he won't even get what's going on."

"Elliot, stop! That's your dad!"

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I know, but... we're out of options. It's now or never."

"And he can't know."

"Does he still control the money?"

"Yeah, for now. But not if things go our way."

“It feels wrong… tricking him like this, mom.” Elliot sounded upset like he might cry.

I couldn't listen anymore. My heart was racing, so I snuck back to bed. What are they planning? Taking me to a doctor? I feel excellent.

But the part about money? That's stuck in my head. They could've just asked me. Why all the secrets? It's messed up, feeling scared of your own family. What a mess.

March 1st, 2010

I just woke up, it's like ten at night, and my door's locked. I got into a major argument with Rose earlier. She's pushing for me to see a doctor. Why, though? So they find some excuse for her and Elliot to snatch my savings? No way. I didn't tell her that, but I swear she could see in my eyes that I was onto them.

Honestly, I'm lost. And them locking me in my room? That's just not right... I can't handle this.

I just found the keys to get out.

They were in my pocket the whole time.

What's going on with me?

Maybe... maybe I should see that doctor with Rose.

May 12th, 2010

Today, I watched an exciting show on TV. It's about a chemistry teacher who starts breaking the law to help his family. This story really hit close to home. I wish I'd seen it sooner.

The main character made me think much about my dad, and I got pretty emotional. My dad was the one who taught me all about carpentry. He gave me my first screwdriver, the same one I can't seem to find anywhere now.

I miss him more than I can say.

That feeling grew stronger tonight when I was looking at some old family photos before settling down to write. There was something odd about the pictures, like a shadow hanging over us all, getting darker when it came to me.

The TV was still on, but I'm sure I heard a voice. It sounded like my dad, but what it told me to do... Maybe I shouldn't write that part down.

Some things are better left forgotten.

August 5th, 2010

They're messing with my medication.

I caught Elliot in the act right there in the kitchen. He thought he was being sly, but I saw everything.

He slipped in an extra pill, a red one. I've always taken three pills daily: two white and one blue. They're for my diabetes and heart condition.

But a red one? Never taken that one before. So, I pretended to swallow it, then discreetly spat it out in the bathroom a few moments later.

My own son, trying to poison me with who knows what. I can see the remorse in his eyes, but that won't save him from divine retribution. Did I raise him so well, all of them, to be treated like this at the end of my life? No, thank you. I need to do something to protect myself.

August 6th, 2010

I'm not sure how, but Elliot is changing our family photos. There's a man in every picture sitting next to Rose, and that man isn't me. I recognize my own reflection, and this person is a stranger.

I only started realizing it today, my friend. He modifies every photo to include this repulsive man with a twisted face. His features are grotesque, his eyes a sinister black, peering into my very soul. He's after my family. In fact, in the photos, it seems he's already part of it.

Why would Elliot do this to me? And why is Rose going along with it? It's beyond my comprehension.

They're trying to make me appear insane, unhinged, perhaps to seize the house and drain my bank account. But I won't let that happen. I'll confront them sooner rather than later. I'm a veteran, for heaven's sake; I must take action before it's too late, before they plot my end. Honestly, my silent friend, I’m afraid of what Rose will say to me.

Now that I'm putting this down on paper, a memory resurfaces. I overheard Rose and Elliot mentioning someone coming to fetch us on the 8th. That means I have two days to formulate a plan.

August 8th, 2010

Oh, God! I feel like I'm losing my mind. I can't believe this... I’m sick in the head.

Everything makes sense now. It's ten in the morning, and I've just talked with Rose. She revealed all that's happening over the past few months. She showed me a video about dementia, her eyes filled with tears as she apologized. Elliot was there, too, crying nonstop.

They urged me to read through my journal, and I've just done so.

The horrendous things I wrote down... How could I have failed to connect the dots? They were merely trying to assist me. My memory is like Swiss cheese, full of holes, but I've managed to piece together some parts and feel a bit more grounded.

An ambulance is scheduled to arrive later today, in the afternoon, and I'll be on my way to consult a doctor. Soon, I'll regain my health, start my medication, and resume my role as a caring husband, father, and grandfather.

I plan to keep this journal entry close at all times and revisit it from time to time. This way, I won't let myself forget again.

I’ll put it in my pocket. Yes, it seems wise.

I'm still scared, down to my very bones, but now I recognize that the loving care of my family surrounds me.

August 8th, 2010

The time's here. I can't wait any longer. If I don't do something now, they will kill me. What's next, replace me with the man in the photos? No way, I can't let that happen.

Today's probably the worst day of my life. It's three-thirty in the afternoon, and I'm just waiting for them to finish me off.

Right after lunch, Rose told me we had to get ready to go, that the ambulance was coming at four. I didn't agree at all. I never said yes to going to a hospital or anywhere, and now they're pushing me... but I know we're not going to any hospital.

After we talked, I wouldn't get up from my chair, so Elliot tried to make me. I showed him what I'm made of, though his face got the worst of it. But I couldn't hold them off for long.

He and Rose dragged me upstairs, both crying the whole time. But who'd fall for those tears?

And that wasn't even the worst part.

When they wanted me to shower, and I said no, they undressed me. That's when a piece of paper fell out of my pocket, and Rose quickly stuffed it into her pocket. They can’t stop hiding things from me. I ended up showering to avoid more embarrassment.

If today's my last day, I will face it like the soldier I am.

I just read all the previous entries and see how they plotted against me. Father is talking to me again, and now I’ll follow his command.

No one's taking my place, and no one's pushing me around in my own home.

I found my screwdriver, the one I'd been missing, on my nightstand.

I’ll make them pay.

August 8th, 2010. 5. pm. - Police radio

Attention all units: we've got a 10-34 in progress, severe family assault. Be on the lookout for an elderly white male with a thin build and white hair, wearing blood-drenched clothes. He's armed and dangerous, carrying a screwdriver, and appears disoriented, clutching a journal.

Last seen on foot, moving unpredictably through the midtown sector near Parkway. Approach with extreme caution. The suspect's mental state is questionable, making him highly unpredictable.

The perpetrator is involved in a gruesome attack at his family residence; He brutally assaulted the victims with a tool presumed to be the screwdriver in his possession. One nurse and one ambulance driver were also wounded. Need immediate backup in the area. Units responding, acknowledge and update status ASAP. Stay sharp out there. Over.