No, scratch that. It already feels silly enough doing this without addressing you like an actual person. I haven’t written in one of these since I was 12… Well, other than a brief fling with a blog that’s probably still floating around cyberspace, all three entries I actually bothered to write just waiting for the wrong person to stumble across them and get all offended. So I can’t promise a much longer life for you, little diary (or maybe I should call you a journal… I guess that sounds a little more mature) but fate seems to be pushing me to give it a try, so I guess I’ll give in.
And I suppose this is as appropriate a time as any to start - it sure beats unpacking. I could tell you all about the house, but I imagine you know more about it than me, since you were here first. Not sure how the realtor missed you, but you’ve definitely gone some miles. Part of me wishes you still had all your pages intact for me to snoop through, though honestly, you’re just as likely to have been a homework notebook as a diary (excuse me, journal) and I had enough geometry during my own sentence at high school, thank you very much.
All right, I’ve shirked my responsibilities long enough. Farewell for now, little journal! Perhaps I shall see you again… If not, I apologize to whoever finds you next for this pointless rambling taking up the first page of their notebook.
I bet you thought I’d abandoned you in that dusty drawer I found you in, didn’t you? No, not yet. I confess, I did forget about you for a few days, but as it turns out, insomnia is something of a memory aid for me, it seems. So let’s see if you can help me.
I can’t say anything terribly interesting has happened lately. I did finish unpacking, so yay for that! Well, mostly. There’s still a couple boxes of crap left, but they’re tucked away in the spare room so I don’t have to look at them until I have company. So that’s just as good, pretty much.
And… That’s all that’s really newsworthy in my life right now… So yeah… Not asleep yet. Thanks a lot, you’ve been a big help.
I guess I could write about why I can’t fall asleep. Other than just being in a house that’s still mostly unfamiliar, that is. The A/C decided to stop working, which was pretty exciting. They were supposed to be by today to fix it, so I took the afternoon off to wait for them, but they never showed up. I’m sure if Bailey found that out, she’d be all over herself to go screaming to the bigwigs that I left just to start my weekend early. I’m pretty sure they all know she’s jealous I got the promotion instead of her, so they wouldn’t actually listen, luckily.
Plus, it totally wasn’t for no reason - did I mention, I finished unpacking? Haha.
All right, it’s past midnight now, and you’re still not doing me much good. I’m just going to try the TV again instead. Maybe it won’t fail me. You’d do well not to do so again… The driveway’s plenty big enough to start a fire in, you know, mwahaha! Okay, yeah, really time to stop writing now… I’m such a dork when I need sleep.
I tried to remind myself yesterday that I was giving this whole journal thing a shot, but somehow I never quite found time to do anything about it, though I got close. Must have left you out on the kitchen table, and even that didn’t help, at least not until I got home from work today. Now I’ve got some chicken and potatoes roasting, and a minute or two to pay some attention to you while I sit here and bask in the delicious scent coming from my oven.
I could tell Bailey wanted to say something to me about leaving early Friday, but she managed to restrain herself. Everyone tells me she’s really a nice person; I dunno, she’s always seemed pretty focused on taking me down. Should I be flattered? Am I the only one she sees as a real threat? Obviously I got the job she wanted, but it’s not like she could have known I was going to back when I first started. Even my first day, she was running to the boss to report I wasn’t in perfect dress code. I bet she got called a tattle-tale a lot back in elementary school.
Oh! But speaking of leaving early (I totally did, half a rant ago) I got back home from grocery shopping yesterday, and the house was gloriously cool. Guess the A/C was just being bitchy Friday? It’s still not exactly right - it has spells where it makes the house cooler than I really want - just close enough for now. I don’t really want to deal with repairmen until I’ve been here at least a month. Maybe two. Of course, with my luck it’s going to die on me in the middle of the next heat wave, but I’m willing to take that risk. I’m sure I’ll be cursing my stupidity in about three pages, haha.
I’m feeling kinda annoyed at Abby right now. We were supposed to hit the bars Saturday, but her babysitter flaked on her, so we rescheduled for tonight, but with somewhat less alcohol, more food. Again, last minute, no babysitter. I don’t really need to be spending money going out anyway, since I just bought this house, plus my current meal is smelling better than whatever I would have gotten out, but even so… Actually, she’d probably a bit pissed at me, too, since she offered to come anyway, with her kid seeing as we weren’t going to be at a bar, and I said no. I have nothing against babies - I guess we need to keep them around - but I don’t really want to have to eat with one. Usually Abby respects that… She seemed a bit huffy when I said no today, though. I’ve always said I don’t have a maternal bone in my body. Guess she never listened, haha. She’s probably just going crazy being cooped up with the little thing. I know I would.
And on that note, my dinner’s ready, so I’m going to eat in peace. Which is, I’m sure, more than Abby will be able to do.
August 2 (2)
Just getting ready for bed, and the weirdest thing happened. I’d been watching the news and turned it off to, as previously mentioned, get ready for bed, but in the middle of brushing my teeth, I heard the TV turn back on. I grabbed the plunger, which I’m sure would have really intimidated anyone that had broken into my house, but I don’t exactly have a baseball bat or anything, and did a quick walk-through. Nobody there, or anywhere else in the house. The TV was just on. Maybe I have a ghost, haha. Or the remote fell and happened to land on the power button. Which, considering I’d left it on the edge of the sofa, and it was on the floor when I got there, is probably the more likely explanation. Too bad. Always kinda wanted to live in a house with a ghost. We could have wacky adventures and get our own sitcom, haha.
I think I’m getting used to this whole journal thing. Sat right down with it as soon as I got my green beans boiling on the stove. Still don’t feel like I’ve got anything important to tell you, but I guess that’s about par for the course. I mean, what great secrets do ten year olds have that they simply must write in their diaries? Do people even really keep diaries any more? Other than me? I know they still sell them at bookstores, but they’re always on clearance, which, to me, suggests they wouldn’t sell otherwise.
Guess I’m just hopelessly retro, haha. But only in the privacy of my own home. I keep meaning to mention you to Abby, and every time I try I stop myself. I’m not sure why - I’ve told her much more embarrassing things, and she’s told me even worse, yet I can’t bring myself to mention this. I guess because I think of you as something private, just for me… And you, I suppose, since I can’t stop myself from acting like you’re an actual being. Probably has something to do with that damn baby, too.
I know I’m acting stupid, at the very least for being surprised about it, but, despite Abby’s promises that we’d still be close after she had the baby, everything is different now. We still talk, but she always seems distracted, at least when I’m talking. And the only thing she talks about is the kid. On the rare occassions we’re speaking face to face, I can practically see her eyes glaze over when I talk about work, and I almost have to stop myself from asking whether or not I’d be more interesting to her if I was wearing diapers, haha.
It’s kinda silly, but I feel a
Sorry about that! Got lost in thought for a second, and then the beans were boiling over everywhere! Didn’t mean to knock you on the floor in my hurry to turn them down. Anyway, as I was saying, I kinda hate to admit it, but it really does feel good to have someone (something) to say (write) all this to (on?). I guess this is why diaries are so popular… If you don’t have a lot of close friends you can tell stuff like this to, it’s not a terrible substitute. Gah, I’m getting all sentimental. What a sap!
And I’ve only been doing this for like a week and a half! Imagine the breakthroughs I’ll be having a month from now, haha.
Missed another day! I guess it just slipped my mind… Was out later than usual yesterday, because the line at the tanning salon was longer than usual, so I just wound up getting some junk from Arby’s on the way home. No dinner to cook, so I wasn’t really in the kitchen, so I didn’t even think of grabbing you. Not a big deal, really, but I could feel a good streak getting started there.
And now I’m trying to get it started again, but… Not really much going on. Middle of the week, nothing too thrilling. Did have a freaky dream last night. I dreamt I was in my bed, trying to get to sleep, which, obviously, seemed pretty realistic. Then someone in a white skirt walked into my room and right past me. Freaked me out for a second so I couldn’t do anything, and by the time I sat up, there was nobody there. Writing it down doesn’t make it seem as creepy as it was, but I promise, it was unsettling. I was still jumpy this morning until I finally managed to convince myself it really was just a dream.
I keep meaning to get down to the basement and do something with it. It doesn’t really need cleaned, since I haven’t put anything down there yet… I guess I just want to get it set up so I can put stuff down there. There’s some fairly nice shelves down there along the walls. I might see about moving them up to the guest bedroom - won’t that be fun - to make it a guest bedroom slash library. Then the basement really would just be a bunch of empty space. When I was a kid, I always wanted a house with a pool in the basement. Maybe I should look into that, haha.
Oh, dear diary, I’m so sorry! I tried to betray you! And not just by neglecting you yesterday, yet again.
So, out of nowhere, Bailey asks if I want to get a drink with her after work last night. I’m not really sure what to think, but I decide to be nice and agree. Later on, she says it’s because she heard my birthday was coming up, and it was only my 22nd. She said she was shocked I was so young and… Yeah, I’m not sure what the point of the story was. I think there was one, but we were both a bit sloshed by that point. Pretty sure that, whatever the reason she mentioned for trying to patch things up, the real reason was that she felt even more threatened knowing I was so much younger than her and still beat her. Maybe she was looking for some tips, and wow, does that make me sound conceited. Especially since I have no real idea why I got the job instead of her, not that I’d let her know that.
Anyway, back to the story. We were out drinking - and I was not in my green mini, sadly, because I couldn’t find the damn thing. I hate moving. I think I already said it, but we got rather tipsy, me much more than Bailey, I have to admit. And for longer. I was totally okay to drive, but she’s one of those people that get way too hung up on stuff like that, and she insisted that she drive me home. She even buckled my seat belt for me when I took a little too long to do it myself!
She takes me inside, and, for whatever reason, I decide to give her a tour. And then I remember you, sitting out on the kitchen table. I don’t know what it was, but I decided I couldn’t let her see you - I guess I thought it would make me look even more childish in her eyes if I still wrote a diary, though that might make her even more jealous, which isn’t really a bad thing, at least not to me, haha - and I stumbled towards the kitchen to try to shove you into a drawer. I didn’t quite make it, however, because my feet got all tangled up, and I fell flat on my face.
That actually worked just as well (hopefully), since it stopped the tour while she helped me up and took me to my room. She took my shoes off and put me to bed, and then, I assume, went home, though for all I know, she read you and rummaged through all the rest of my stuff. Nothing seemed out of place this morning. Maybe she’s just really careful about putting stuff how she found it, though. Who knows? In summary, I guess what I learned yesterday was that Bailey isn’t an entirely terrible person, but apparently I don’t plan on getting completely drunk with her again, or else I wouldn’t be writing all this where she could find it when she takes me home.
Not a bad day overall, I suppose. Finally managed to catch up with Abby, though it was here and not anywhere fun. She had the kid with her, so I had to coo over it and say how much it had grown, how much it looked like her, etc. She also brought pizza, though, so I guess it evens out, haha.
She helped me move some of the shelves from the basement to the guest room - it’s a good thing I didn’t try on my own. For just being a bunch of old wood nailed together, they’re pretty heavy. We found what looks like a bricked up doorway behind one of the shelves. Abby said it probably just led to a part of the basement they never bothered putting down a floor and walls for and at some point in the past when it was up for sale, someone closed it off to make the basement as a whole look better. I don’t think the house really looks old enough to have come with a dirty basement originally, but what do I know?
The baby was surprisingly quiet after the first few minutes, at least up until we were done working and were sitting down for some pizza and wine. I tried to act amused at Abby acting like an idiot to pacify her child, even though I was really just getting into the pizza - she got it from that place that pre-makes them, but doesn’t bake them. I wasn’t really expecting anything much better than a frozen pizza, but it was really pretty good. I don’t know that she bought my act, or maybe she didn’t like that I kept changing the subject whenever she’d talk about how many hours the kids slept, or whatever, but she seemed a little annoyed by the time she left.
It’s not that I don’t want to hang out with her anymore, or even that I dislike the kid. I’m sure when it’s seven or eight, it’ll be awesome - that was when I met Abby, and she was always the coolest kid around. But that’s not all I want to talk about, and it’s kinda frustrating that it’s all she seems to feel like discussing anymore. Maybe it’s because I remember all the fun, random conversations we’d have to get us through the school days, or maybe I’m just scared that she seems so much like an adult as a parent, and I feel like it makes me look bad that I’m not anywhere near ready for that. And she totally smells like baby powder now. She used to be way into fancy perfumes, and now she doesn’t even bother.
Also, probably shouldn’t have said no when she asked if I wanted to hold it. Again, I don’t dislike it, but I’ve always been a little afraid about holding babies. Not really sure why… As far as I know, I’ve never dropped one, or almost dropped one, or even seen one almost dropped. It just makes me nervous. I guess I shouldn’t expect her to know that, though, because I can’t imagine we’d ever discussed it, as we never saw babies as one of the more interesting topics of discussion, which is part of why her sudden interest feels so odd, even if it does make sense seeing as she has one. I don’t know. Plus, I’d had a glass or two more than her, so I was a wee bit tispy.
I’m sure I sound like a total lush to you, but I promise I’m not! Gonna go to bed now anyway, though, even though it’s only like 9. Clearly, if I was really an alcoholic, I’d be drinking for another few hours before passing out. I do feel a bit like I’m passing out still, but gracefully, in my pajamas. And without waking up in a puddle of my own vomit and/or piss. Hopefully.
I may have liked Bailey more when she hated my guts. Does that make me a bad person? I mean, when I saw her then, she’d give me nasty looks like I poisoned her dog or something, but I’d only really have to deal with that a couple times a day. Now she’s apparently decided that we’re BFFs or whatever, from our one time drinkign together. Did I say something to her when I was drunk to make her think that? Or does she just take anything above cold indifference as an invitation to be pals?
I swear, she must have walked past my desk twenty times, and had to stop for a chat each one. No, I haven’t done anything interesting in the fifteen minutes since I last saw you - stop asking! And she decided to give me the hilarious gag gift of a pacifier. Yeah, I get it, I’m younger than you. Very funny. It has a strap on it, so I hung it on the edge of my monitor to make her happy. She flicked it a couple times whenever she stopped by to char. Can’t help but feel like she’s sending me conflicting signals… Clearly, she wants to talk more, assumedly in the form of a conversation, yet she gives me a present meant to keep kids quiet. I guess she just picked it because it was small, and cheap, but part of me feels a bit suspicious at the choice.
Wound up taking a bit of a nap earlier tonight. I didn’t mean to, but my bed looked so inviting as I go undressed from work that I just flopped down, and next thing I knew, it was 7:30. Probably won’t be able to fall asleep until 3 am tonight now because of that. Sigh. Had another weird dream, too. It started out the same as the other, with a pair of legs walking by, but a moment or two after they did, before I could sit up to see where they went, they came back, and I felt someone kiss my forehead. They whispered something, too, but it was that weird dream-speak that you understand in the moment, even though it’s just gibberish. I ran to the bathroom as soon as I woke up, like some dumb kid. No mark on my head, or course. Guess I’m only haunted in my dreams. It didn’t feel nearly as creepy this time, though. The whole thing felt almost soothing in a way, maternal.
I’m being lazy today and heating up leftovers for dinner. I also just got into my jammies after my nap even though, as I said, I probably won’t be back asleep for a long while. It was better than staying in just the underwear I napped in, at least. I can’t imagine I’m going to be doing much of anything the rest of the night, though, so why not? I’m feeling like popping Roman Holiday in the DVD player and eating dinner in front of the TV. Not sure why I’m being so lethargic so early in the week. Maybe moving those shelves took more out of me than I thought. Or maybe it was all that socializing I did today, haha. Hard work, that.
I think that’s the date now, anyway. The power must have gone out sometime, because the clocks are all flashing 12:00, and I don’t feel like hunting down my cell. It’s dark outside, though, and the movie’s back on the menu screen. My estimation was way off - I fell asleep again like half an hour into the movie, and had a hell of a dream. Feeling kinda frazzled right now, too. I know it was just a dream, but I was actually crying for a little while after I woke up. Maybe I’m getting sick.
There were no legs in my dream this time, but I still started in my bed. I got up and stumbled my way across the hall into the bathroom sleepily. I could tell the bathroom looked different somehow, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on how. Then I looked in the mirror and saw some teenager there, and realized I wasn’t dreaming about myself, so I guess it was this girl’s bathroom I was seeing. Still looked pretty damn similar to mine, though, which makes sense, since it came from my subconscious, which would explain why I saw you sitting on the desk in the bedroom, which for whatever reason didn’t strike me as odd at the moment even though I’ve never had you in my bedroom, and there isn’t even a desk in there. Anyway, I’d guess the girl looked sixteen or so - estimating ages isn’t exactly my forte - and kinda pretty, in a not quite conventional way.
She had the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. I could read in them just what she had in mind. I tried to talk to her, to tell her to stop and think for a minute, but there was no sound, no indication that she could hear me, or that she even knew there was another person watching from her eyes, even when I started to scream at her. I could only watch as she pulled open the medicine cabinet, dug through the bottles of aspirin and tubes of toothpaste to the very back, where she picked up the razor blade. It was old, flakes of paint caked around the edge, but still sharp enough. I thrashed around inside her, trying to make her stop, but I was just a passenger, and observer, no matter how hard I tried.
And then the worst part. She closed the cabinet, and looked into the mirror, right into her own eyes, although it felt like she was staring into mine. She stood there for a long moment, and I almost thought she’d heard me, or felt me, or something, that I’d broken through… Then she turned away, to the door, but instead of walking through it, she clicked the lock, then turned the water in the bathtub on, sat down in it, fully clothed. And she
I know it’s just a dream, but it really freaked me out. It just felt so real, and I was so helpless…. I’m scared to go back to sleep, and I know I’m just being a baby, but that doesn’t help. It’s times like this that I wish you could talk back. I guess that’s what a lot of people who keep diaries wish. I read somewhere once that diaries are written to be read, which always seemed kind of odd to me. After all, teenagers freaking out over younger siblings getting into their dairies is a total cliche. But then, they aren’t exactly the target audience. But who is? Some sensitive, mysterious, older guy who… what, happens to find it lost in the middle of the library (I guess if you were going to take a diary out of the privacy of your room, that’s not a bad place to go with it) and is so touched by the deep intelligence and tender heart evident in the words within that they just have to search for the author, like Cinderella’s prince or something. Makes sense in a way, though… If they were just writing to themselves, why would people be as flowery as they are? Or as I was, at any rate, in my first one way back when. I don’t know.
Don’t really know where I was going with this either, other than just not to sleep. I don’t want to go near that bathroom right now, and my bedroom is straight across the hall… I can totally see the mirror from my bed. I think I’ll sleep on the couch tonight. I’ll just sleep there, and pretend I made is straight through the night on it. I’ll pretend I never had that dream. The only evidence I did will be you. Since I haven’t actually read anything else I’ve written in you, that probably won’t be a problem… But then, just knowing this is here might make it harder to forget. Should I rip these pages out, throw them away, burn them? Is that why you were already missing so many pages when I found you? Did someone else have something they wanted desperately to forget?
August 10 (2)
As I’m sure you’ve gathered by the fact of still being intact, or as much so as I’ve ever seen you, I managed to… well, not exactly calm myself down, but at least fall asleep before doing anything drastic. I was still feeling a bit anxious when I woke up - I’m sure that had nothing to do with sleeping on a sofa instead of my real bed that was just half a house away - but I managed to throw on some clothes and get ready and go to work. I brushed my teeth with the medicine cabinet door open, however.
I didn’t stay in the bathroom long enough to take a shower, so I felt gross all day at work. And since I didn’t do that, I didn’t even think of changing my underthings, which I almost don’t even want to admit here, where nobody will even know about it, because it seems so stupid and… I don’t know, uncivilized. I felt that way most of the day, along with klutzy and dumb. I don’t know how many times I tried to pick up the receiver of my phone and sent it clattering across my desk, or how many times I had to chase my pen across the floor. I just couldn’t hold on to anything.
I apparently didn’t look too hot, either, because the first thing Bailey asked me was whether I was feeling all right. I know she was just salivating as she watched me struggle my way through the day, sure the pressure was too much for me already, ready to jump in as soon as I screw up something major and get demoted, or even fired. I think that’s the only reason I didn’t take a sick day halfway through, when it was obvious things weren’t getting any better.
And, since things weren’t bad enough, I got caught in a traffic jam on my way home. Abby called in the middle of it. Instead of just coming out and asking what she wanted, she acts all casual and wants to know what my plans were for the night, was I busy? Not really wanting to go into the train wreck the day was, I just tell her I was going home and staying there, so no, not busy at all. So she mentions that her babysitter, once again, couldn’t show up. Instead of getting the hint, I just say something about how she should hire someone else. Which, if I wasn’t half asleep and mostly stupid, I’d have realized was just what she was trying to do before she sprung it on me, and given myself at least a second or two to come up with something more convincing, or at least more filtered, than, “No way.”
I knew it was the wrong thing to say right away, of course, but what could I do? The only real way to save it would have been to agree, and I wasn’t about to do that. So she goes off on me about how I was a terrible friend, how I should be happy for her, how I was acting like more of a baby than her kid and being a total needy freak, blah blah blah. And I just sat there and took it, not even considering for half a second that I could just turn my phone off. Finally, she finished, and I couldn’t even think of anything more to say than, “I have to go, traffic’s moving again.”
Yeah, that’s where I am right now. Just now got home - finding out that I’d left the door unlocked this morning, though thankfully my TV and computer are still here - and I was too pissed to do anything until I wrote it all out. On the ride home, I was thinking that maybe my anger would give me something to dwell on other than memories of that goddamn dream, but I still don’t want to go in that bathroom, no matter how much I want a shower. Am I really going to have to drive myself to a motel to get cleaned up after I just bought a house?! It’s just a dream, stop being such a damn baby!
August 10 (3)
If you had a mouth, I’m sure you’d have laughed your spine off at my choice of words there, assuming of course that the mouth came with a pair of eyes that let you see whoever broke into my house and, of all the screwed up things, replaced my panties with diapers. Adult diapers. Seriously, who the hell would do that?! Who would even think of that?!?!? This is just… Words fail me.
August 10 (4)
Seriously, I don’t believe this. I’m pretty sure I must be dreaming. I read once that you can’t read anything in a dream, because that would use the part of your brain that is resting, or whatever; I can read my last entry, so I guess that means I’m still awake, though it doesn’t sound any less bizarre than it did ten minutes ago, before I tromped around my house like a mad-woman trying to figure this out.
It’s got to be Bailey. She thought that stupid pacifier was funny, but this is going too far. I’m going to march over to her desk tomorrow, and I’m going to… What? Scream at her in the middle of the office to give me my underwear back? Yeah, that won’t look weird and wrong on a few hundred different levels. I knew that whole being nice thing was just an act. I’ll show her she can’t mess with me. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll come up with something!
August 10 (5)
I’m losing my fucking mind. That’s all there is to it.
The one advantage to this whole thing was that it got me even more mad than I’d even been after talking to Abby (oh, we’ll get back to her in a minute…) so I could march right into the bathroom, past that damn mirror, which I’m proud in a warped sort of way to say that I had the presence of mind to cover with a garbage bag and some tape, and take a shower. I wasn’t really sure what I was going to do after - I’d already worn those panties for two days, and felt skanky enough in them, and I’m not the kind of girl who would go anywhere without underwear - but I was glad to be getting clean, anyway.
I finish up, open the shower curtain, step outside and go to pick up the clothes I’d thrown on the floor, and my underwear is gone. Poof, gone! Abracadabra! I’m freaking out for a minute - big surprise, there, I’m sure - when I smell baby powder, and I realize I’d suspected the wrong person. I run through the house, completely naked, and grab my cell to call Abby, sure I’m going to hear the phone ring somewhere in my house. I don’t, but she doesn’t pick up, either. I know she’s still here… She’s trying to teach me some twisted lesson about the way I’m acting. All this being a parent stuff has scrambled her brain after all!
Well, screw her. I’m going to throw on a dress, a long dress - I’m still not hot on the idea of going commando, but that feels like the least perv-ish thing to do it in - and buy myself some new underwear, because hey, I’d wanted to do that for a while. Then I’m going to come home, and if she’s still here, I’ll find her, and I’ll kick her ass. What kind of a friend plays a sick prank like this on you?!
I’m not proud of it, but I admit I spent the night at a motel. I just figured, why give whoever it is the satisfaction? I’m sure they just want a confrontation, so instead, I’ll let them sit around my house and be bored all night.
Bailey acted like nothing was going on. I’m not sure if I buy it or not. Still, I took that damn pacifier off my computer anyway. Didn’t get a whole lot else done today, because I was just still so mad about this whole thing.
I had a “neighbor” stop by today. She seems like a nice old woman, but when I told her I liked the house okay, except I’d been having weird dreams, she told me some girl killed herself here. So I know Abby or Bailey hired her to try to spook me even more, and she isn’t really from around here. I have to stop leaving you lying around. I should have expected them to go through you, leaving you alone with whichever of them was hiding in the house yesterday. I’m going to be more careful from now on.
August 11 (2)
Apparently, I should have started sooner. As soon as I finished writing that last entry, I went to go take a shower, and the bag of underwear I’d bought yesterday and just tossed on my bed was gone. Obviously, whoever’s doing this is really dedicated. I don’t know where they’re hiding - I stormed through the whole house, ranting and raving all the while, and saw no sign of them - but they’re here, somewhere. And they can go to hell. I’m cooking dinner, I’m eating, then I’m going to my room and locking the door from the inside.
I lost it at work today. I just couldn’t take it. Bailey was chatting away, acting like nothing was wrong, but she told me I looked well rested, and just gave me this look, and I knew it had to be her, letting her know that she knew I went to bed crazy early yesterday, because what else was there to do? I yelled at her, told her not to come near my house again, that she was a freak, a sick freak.
My boss asked me not to come back in until next week. So… Three and a half day weekend, I guess. I just know Bailey is going to use this as proof that I can’t handle the job, that it’s too stressful. She was just trying to push me into doing something like this, and she got her way. Next week, though, I’m going to go in there and knock all their socks off. This is just going to make me all the more ready to prove that I was the right choice.
And I was so sure it was Abby, too, this morning. I could smell baby powder everywhere as soon as I woke up. It’s not like it’s that hard to buy the stuff.
Now that Bailey’s done what she set out to do, I’m sure she’s got better things to do than lurk around my house at all hours of the night, but I still decided to keep the panties I bought today in the trunk of my car. Let’s see the bitch steal them from there! Of course, it makes them rather inconvenient for me to get to as well, but at least I know they’ll be there. Except for the pair I’m about to go get now. I’m taking a nice, long shower, with my bathroom door locked, just in case.
August 12 (2)
Maybe I was wrong. I can’t imagine Bailey taking off early, since that might make her seem unreliable, yet she should still be at work. Maybe I was just assuming it was her because I didn’t want to think Abby would do something like this.
The panties I set out to change into after my shower? Gone. So were the ones I’d been wearing. Somehow, she broke in, took them, then snuck back out, re-locking the door behind her. She must have made a copy of my keys or something, but is that really any more crazy than the rest of this shit?
I went looking for her again, after a quick trip out to my car, and still nothing. She always was the best at hide and seek, though. I did find the drawer you were in open, however, just slightly, and in the back were some papers she planted. I’m sure I would have noticed them there before if they’d been there. She’s really reaching now… They were plans for a nursery, and details about some half-baked theory on “Defeating Depression by Starting Over”, in which the starting over meant treating the victim… I mean, patient, like a baby. Which I’m pretty sure would just make a depressed person even more likely to off themselves, being faced with that as an alternative. Which was, I think, the reason Abby put them there.
I never should have let on to you how much that dream disturbed me. Or maybe I should have gone on about it more to see what other random crap she could come up with vaguely related to it.
August 12 (3)
That’s it. I’m done. Abby took it too far. I swear to God, if she comes within ten miles of my house again, I’m calling the cops. I just told her that, too, on her voicemail, since she’s too chicken to actually pick up when the person she’s screwing with calls her.
She actually diapered me while I was asleep. Undressed me, put me in a diaper, and left me there, in just that, nothing else. Think that’s bad? She took all of my pants, all of my skirts, all my shorts, all my dresses. Not to mention my damn car keys. And no, we’re not finished yet. Just to fuck with my head even more, she locked the door behind her again.
She’s got two hours to return everything, to get these fucking diapers out of my house, and to apologize, on her knees, or I’ll call the police anyway. Enough is enough.
August 12 (4)
Bitch is still here. And damn sneaky, too. I turned around for like a second, and she took my cell. I’m going to find her, and then I’ll stuff one of these diapers down her throat. I can smell that damn baby powder. I will track her down like a goddamn bloodhound.
August 12 (5)
It’s that doorway in the basement. It’s some kind of secret passage. It must come out somewhere else in the house, but I didn’t have any more luck finding the other end than I did finding the hidden brick to spin it around or whatever and let me inside. The baby powder smell was the strongest there, though. It has to be there. There’s a sledgehammer out in the garage. I’ll give myself another fifteen minutes to figure it out, and then I’m breaking the whole damn wall down.
August 12 (6)
This is insane. I don’t know how she did it, or how she afforded it, but there it is.
A whole fucking nursery. Behind a brick wall. All adult sized. I just… It blow my mind. This would have been a lot of work, in practically no time, and for what? How did she pull this off? I don’t think she could. I don’t think Bailey could, either. There’s something else going on here. I’m staring at it right now, but I still don’t believe it.
I took my diaper off - yes, I was still wearing it, because I didn’t have any other options, did I? - when I saw it. It just felt too weird, looking at that, dressed like that. Sure, sitting here in just a T-shirt is hardly normal, either, but I feel slightly less like Alice staring into the looking glass. Or out of the looking glass. I mean, I look at it, and I just felt this weird feeling like maybe I belonged there. It went away a little after I took the diaper off, so I think it’s just because of the way I was dressed. Even without it, though, I have to admit, I kind of want to go in, get a closer look.
My head is killing me all of the sudden. I probably gave myself an aneurism freaking out over all this shit. Or at least dehydrated myself with that workout. I should go get some water.
August 12 (7)
All right, I’m calmed down a little now. Can you really blame me? It was a long day, no matter how you slice it. I think I have it figured out now, too.
It wasn’t just one of them, it was them both. Abby knew where I was moving to, and she’d already had the kid. I assumed it was my recent snubbings that pushed her over the edge, but I’ve been less than enthusiastic all along, so I’m sure she wanted to teach me a lesson. And Bailey isn’t too bad off, money-wise, and I’m sure she already suspected I would be getting promoted over her. I don’t know how they met exactly, but they did, and they hatched this crazy scheme.
Well, they’re in for a surprise. They think I won’t go out in a diaper? Sure, I don’t want to, but when I explain what’s going on, it’s them that will look crazy, not me! I’ll go to a neighbor’s house, a real neighbor, not that old woman they hired, and I’ll call the police from there and then I’
fuai jakl ppo asiff fiah nooo
There we go… I could feel it there on the tip of my brain, but my hand didn’t want to cooperate.
I don’t know what’s happening to me. I left the nursery alone the rest of the night yesterday, had dinner, went to sleep, right in the middle of an entry. I had that dream again, with those legs, and that voice, but I understand it now. It said “My second chance.”
I woke up in the nursery. I was back in a diaper - I’d just wrapped a towel around my waist yesterday, and felt silly for not thinking of it sooner - and in the crib. And I was still holding onto you. But I didn’t know what you were, right away. I just stared at you for like ten minutes, my mind blank, before I thought to open you. Then I was sure I was dreaming, because I just couldn’t put any of the words together. The letters just seemed to squirm away from my eyes.
It took another minute or two, but I can read you now, and I did. Every word. And I found my pencil, too, and after some concentration, I… what, re-learned? how to write. I don’t know. How could I forget that? But I did. I mean, it took me a second of staring at you and at the pencil to even realize how to combine the two.
Fuck, something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong. I just looked away for a second to look at what else is here in the nursery, other than the crib, and I could practically feel my mind slipping away. If I concentrate on you, I can remember, but if I look away for any length of time at all, I feel like I’ll lose it all. I’m already losing some of it. I can remember moving into this house, but where did I live before? I’m not sure…
God, I don’t think I remember anything I didn’t just read. There had to be something before that, but it’s all just gone. I don’t think I’d even remember that if I hadn’t had you to remind me. What’s going on?!?!
Oh no… No, no, no… This is still a dream. It’s just a dream. It has to be. I looked up again, and the brick wall is back up. It’s up, and it’s sealing me into this nursery, trapping me in here. I can’t get out.
Wait, how would I do that anyway? I think I remember walking, but how did I do it? I don’
Oh, gross. I think I just peed my diaper. I was just laying here, and I felt this wet spurt, and I didn’t know how to stop it, I don’t know how to do anything. I think if I tried, really concentrated, I could figure that stuff out again, but if I did, I’d have to stop concentrating on you, and then I’d forget who I was. And then why would I care about doing anything else?
I think I hear someone coming. I just tried to call out, but my voice doesn’t work… Or my voice does, but my words don’t. I made noise, though, so maybe they heard me. Maybe they’ll get me out of here and
She just walked through the brick wall. Some strange woman just walked through there like it wasn’t there and I’m going crazy. That has to be it. She’s smiling at me, but I don’t know who she is and I’m freaking out and… Wait, no, she’s wearing a white dress. And she looks… I should know her. I look at her, and it feels so familiar, almost comforting. Mommy?
She’s saying something, but I don’t recognize all the words. I think she said I won’t leave this time? Where did I go before? Where have I been but here?
She’s so cold. She reached down and checked my diaper, and her fingers were so cold…
She looks upset. I don’t know why… She’s looking at you. Oh no. She’s saying something, and I don’t understand, but I think I know what she means. She’s bending over but I can’t let her take you, I ca