JUNE 12TH, 2019, 1:30PM
When I brought this journal to the register at Mark's thrift shop, he looked at me in confusion.
"You sure you want this bud?" He'd inquired, his eyebrows furrowing. I'd tilted my head to one side, wondering why he'd ask such a question.
"Yes, I'm sure, why?"
He'd then looked around, as if making sure nobody was listening...
"Well, I ain't that sure, but I've heard creepy things about that book.."
"Creepy things?" I'd urged him on, my eyes widening and my interest now piqued.
"The dude who brought it in was seriously messed up, I'd never seen him before so I assumed he was a tourist or something, but he looked like he hadn't seen the sun, or anybody for that matter, in weeks.. He threw the book on my desk like it would burn 'em if he held onto it any longer."
Mark then looked around once more, which I found strange because we were the only ones in the store.
"He told me, 'do whatever you want with it, but no matter what, don't bring it back to me, it's cursed man. It's cursed!' Then he ran outta here faster than wind in a hurricane."
Well, that sounded interesting, now I definitely wanted to buy it. Despite Mark's many warnings, I paid him the money and left his store with my new journal. As I walked home, I couldn't help but feel as if I was being watched.
When I got home later that day, I immediately sat down at my kitchen table and opened the book to look at its pages, as one does when one get a new book of some kind.
The pages were on the older side, I could see yellowing edges and curled corners, and some of the pages were ripped. Mark had said he tore out some of the pages, most likely the ones already written in, and the first few pages that were there, were blank..
Then, I turned to the fifth page.
—
Tuesday, June 13th, 2019, 9:15 PM
Today I went to the park, I decided to sit on one of the new benches and watch the children play. One father was holding his daughter up as she did the monkey bars.
When they got to the other side she was so satisfied with herself, her smile was as bright as the sun as her father grinned back at her. It was very heartwarming to watch-
—
I had to stop reading.. because something was wrong..
That looked like my handwriting, and I had been planning to go to the park sometime this week.
But-.. Today was June 12th..
How could this diary, that I'd just gotten today have an entry from tomorrow?!
Odd. Very odd.
I went to bed that night confused, as well as conflicted, wondering if this was the reason why the man had gotten rid of the book. This was the kind of situation that would surely freak most people out.
However, I am not most people.
———
Over the next few days, I continued to check the diary instead of actually using and writing in it, and every day without fail, there would be a new entry waiting for me, in my handwriting, usually dated for the next day.
Even more fascinating, all the entries were correct, down to the letter.
If the diary said that I would go to the cafe to get coffee the next day, that's exactly what I did. If it said that I would go visit Mark, who constantly questioned if I was okay, that's what happened.
It made me feel powerful, knowing what was going to happen before it happened. Although, it also took away a sense of surprise or pleasure of doing things, since I always knew it was going to happen beforehand.
My life became monotonous and boring. I know I should've stopped reading the diary, but for some reason, I couldn't.
So, I kept reading..
June passed, and then July.. and I kept reading..
Until one day, I read something that made me stop in my tracks.
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An entry. That was dated for today.
—
Wednesday, August 15th, 2019, 1:20 PM
I didn't mean for it to happen.. I tried to make it to town square in time but it was too late.
—
Then, the bone-chilling words.. Written in big, haunting letters at the bottom of the page, the letters dark and bold so they were impossible to not see:
"Everyone is dead."
In a panic, I rushed out of my living room and around the corner so fast I nearly broke my neck, then exploded through the door leading to my kitchen, scrambling to get a look at the clock on the wall.
1:10 PM.
I had exactly 10 minutes to book it to town square and warn everyone of their impending doom, and you'd better believe that's what I intended to do. I live in a small town, so I usually walked everywhere, but now I ran.
Not just ran, I flew.
I ran faster than I ever have in my life. Faster than when I ran the marathon for my High-school's track team and won with only a few seconds to spare. The wind slapped my face like lashes of a whip as I ran past Town's Cafe, the usually lit windows, aglow with warm light, now dark and cold.
I remembered the reason why everyone was at town square. August 15th was the day of our town's founding, and everyone was gathered to hear a speech given by the mayor before having a big festival.
I rarely attend, since I don't like crowds, but now I was determined to get there.
I ran, and ran, and ran, ran, ran, ran, faster, faster, faster, faster.
I skidded into the square, ready to scream my warning.
But then I saw the big clock tower in the center of town square..
1:21.
I was too late. By a minute.
One. Measly. Minute.
I looked up, and almost threw up from what I saw..
Everyone was dead...
Children, men and women, all lying on the ground, a stain of red on all their chests, right where their hearts would be.
Mark was one of them, his eyes wide open but not blinking, mouth also open, but no breath escaped from in between his pale lips.
He was dead. They all were.
For a second I couldn't do anything. I was too struck by fear and horror.
Then, a small voice began ringing in my head, it was familiar, the voice I used to think, and to read things.. But now, the voice sounded angry, very angry, it was saying only two words. Two words that would have haunted me for the rest of my days.
If I'd had any more days, that is.
'your fault YOur faULT. yoUr fauLT. yOUr FauLt. YOUr faULT. Your FAULT. YoUR FAULT. YOUR FAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULT-'
People say you can never change the volume of the voice in your head, no matter what you do, even if you make it scream, it doesn't get any louder...
That's a lie.
The voice in my head got loud. Very loud. Louder than the sound of a thousand jet engines at once. Louder than every sports game I'd ever been to.
I wailed, screamed, cried, clawed at my ears until I looked at my hands and saw blood, even then I kept clawing at my head, my face, my scalp, harder and
harder and harder and tearing the skin off my skull as the screeching in my head droned on like needles being pounded into my skull with a hammer.
The world began spinning around me as I began to run, I ran all around the square, all over town, through the empty streets as I screamed and wailed and scratched and dug at my scarred face, the screaming getting LOUDER.
'YOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULT'YOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAULTYOURFAU-
"I DIDN'T MEAN TO! I DIDN'T MEAN TO! I MADE A MISTAKE. A MISTAKE. PLEASE STOP, PLEASE!" I shrieked in tortured desperation, dropping to my knees as blood streamed down what used to be my face, how I could even move my mouth to speak was a marvel to me.
"IT HURTS, IT HURTS SO MUCH. I TRIED TO GET HERE. I TRIED TO MAKE IT IN TIME BUT I COULDN'T, AND NOW, NOW.." I paused my howls to stare at the empty, dark town, and then I raised my head to the sky and let out my loudest scream yet.
"EVERYBODY'S DEAD. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? ARE YOU HAPPY NOW THAT YOU'VE KILLED A TOWN, ROBBED HUNDREDS OF LIVES?"
When I got no response, which of course I didn't, I only got angrier.
"EVERYONE IS DEAAAAAAAAD!" I screamed. I screamed at the sky, at the world, at the dead townspeople lying motionless on the ground.
I screamed at whatever higher power had bestowed this horrifying misfortune on me.
I screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed..
Then, I lost control..
Finally, I lost control.
They say that you can still hear me. Screaming as I claw at my face, now a sheet of tattered flesh pulled over rotten bone...
Screaming in terror, as I wander my town, looking for anybody who's still alive.
As for the diary. I have no idea where it is. I don't wanna know.
But I hope nobody ever finds it.
Because when someone does..
Everyone is Dead.