MADNESS

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
This journal was found in the hidden basement of an old farmhouse during renovations, along with newspaper clippings and paperwork dating to at least 50 years before the journal was written.

Submitted: October 18, 2019

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Submitted: October 18, 2019

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May 3: So the doc diagnosed me with schizophrenia, and has me writing this journal to keep track of my hallucinations. Just moved into the new house, living off of the money dad left me. The inheritance also paid for the doc. After years of just dealing with the hallucinations, I can finally get rid of them!) Doc put me on meds, and I’ve been having problems sleeping. Was told that was a potential side effect, but that it would taper off and go away after a few weeks or a month or so, hopefully taking the hallucinations with it. Let's see how I adjust over the summer. I see the doc again in November, she said if it isn't helping by then we'll switch to something else. Also said I might see new, different hallucinations as my brain attempts to adjust to the drugs.

Always wanted to live in the country, and this old house has acres and acres around it to keep the neighbors at bay. Saw rats darting around, and was looking up exterminators before I noticed one disappear halfway across the floor. Saw an old dude staring at me before he walked into a wall.

May 5: Finished unpacking, only found five severed fingers in the boxes. I tried what the doc suggested, and closed my eyes, breathing deeply as I counted back from ten. When I opened them, the fingers were still there, so I just started working on a different box. When I eventually went back to that box, they were gone.

Seemed a shame to have all this land, and not do anything with it. I'll start small, a little kitchen garden with veggies. I think I'll teach myself to make pickles. The cucumber seeds were ticks when I poured them out of the envelope into my hand. I dropped them all before I realized I was hallucinating again. I closed my eyes and counted, and it worked this time.

May 12: Saw the old man again. walked into the same spot in the wall, looked like he opened a door that wasn't there.

May 15: I blacked out today. Just after washing the breakfast dishes I lost about 5 hours. I was just suddenly standing in front of my front door, with my back to the house, and felt hungry and thirsty. My feet hurt too, so god knows if I was walking around for hours or just standing there on the porch.

May 23: I was playing a video game last night at like 1am, heard something. Paused the game, and could make out that it was a little girl singing a creepy ass song. couldn't understand any of the words, but I could tell by the cadence that it was something like ring around the rosey or pop goes the weasel... just really slow and creepy. I wandered around the house, song never got louder or quieter, and it eventually stopped. Counting didn’t help. Tried stopping up my ears and counting. Didn’t work.

May 30: it's currently raining inside the house. it looks like I'm just standing outside in a rainstorm, but I can't feel any drops hitting me and there aren't any puddles forming or drops hitting the page. I forgot to count, so after I wrote that sentence I tried it, and it stopped.

June 4: Keep seeing that old dude standing in another room, or down the hall, or upstairs looking over the banister. Really angry, mean expression. Just stares, and eventually either disappears or walks away. Keeps walking into the wall. Counting down never works with this guy.

June 10: I thought the power went out, so I just sat there in the dark for awhile fuming about the fact that I hadn't saved my game in an hour. After a bit I fumbled my way to a lamp, and the bulb was still hot. Light came back a minute or so later. Now I'm hallucinating that I'm blind. fucking great.

June 18: talked to mom on the phone, she says that she can't take care of dad's dog Rottweiler anymore. I should have known this was coming—she always hated Rott, I'm surprised she didn't bring him to the funeral and shove him at me then. Dunno why she hates him, he's such an easygoing pooch. She's gonna drive up and drop him off tomorrow and stay for lunch. The windows flashed really bright, like when a movie shows a nuclear explosion, while I was on the phone with her.

June 19: Rottweiler had a great time exploring this big old house. He'd never lived anywhere with stairs before, and keeps charging up and down while Mom was here. She’s gone now, and he's passed out from exhaustion. I think this will be good for me—I spend too much time alone now that I live so far from everyone I know. Rott's snoring as I write this. I might take a nap too.

fucking little kids fucking woke me up screaming bloody murder

June 29: all of the damn cucumber vines were ripped out of the ground this morning when I took Rottweiler out.

Ok, hallucinations never last longer than an hour or so, so when I went back outside after lunch they're still ripped up. Rott won't go near the garden, and started looking upset when I tried calling him over. I wonder if it was a wild pig or something and he smells it. I had some extra seeds and replanted.

July 4: the goddamn kitchen floor fell out from under me and i was just standing there on nothing grabbing onto the counter like a madman. Which I am. Before I could finish counting down it came back.

I could see the fireworks from my front porch. Rott and I sat on the steps and had some beers and just watched them explode over the trees. Dogs are the best drinking buddies.

July 5: Took Rott to town with me. I left him at the groomer while I did my grocery shopping and ran errands. When I went to pick him up, everyone had black eyes. Like solid black, with no irises or scleras. the animals in the waiting room too, not just the people.

July 10: I saw Rott walk up a wall and lay down on the ceiling. Then he walked into the room, and the hallucination on the ceiling disappeared. Great, I hope I don't take Rott out one day, bring a hallucination dog back inside with me, and just leave Rott outside all night.

July 17: I heard banging all night long. Every hour or so it'd start, like someone was nailing things or pounding on doors. It lasted five minutes or so and then stopped. Then an hour later it started again. Counting did nothing.

July 22: when I wake in the middle of the night I keep seeing the old man standing over my bed watching me sleep

July 31: I baked a pizza, and when the timer went off I could smell smoke, and the pizza was burned black. I threw it away, but later when I looked in the trash it wasn't burned. wasted a perfectly good pizza...could have burned down the house. I’m going to stop cooking with the stove or oven. Microwave from now on.

August 6: I think I'm blacking out again. I still can't sleep very well, but every time I do go to bed, I shut the bedroom door with Rott inside with me. I keep waking up with the door open. I don't know if I'm doing it, or the dog's doing it, but it's getting creepy. I even woke up in the middle of the night last night, and while I was drinking water from the bottle I keep on my nightstand, I saw the door was open. I woke up in the morning and it was closed. Gonna put a bell on that fucker.

August 14: I keep seeing that goddamn old man around the house. I know I'm supposed to record every single incident and the date on which it happens and whether the count down method worked, but I seriously can't be bothered. I'm too damn tired from only sleeping a couple hours at a time. Suffice it to say, I hallucinate randomly. Sometimes I get a week of sanity, other times it's every day for three days in a row. Let's see: Old man, old man, singing, old man, clocks started melting down the walls. Just the clocks, not any of the pictures or mirrors. Old man, rats in the walls, kids crying, what sounded like godzilla roaring in the distance...

August 17: When I moved in I was told there was a basement, but no entry to it. The door had been walled over at some point and the realtor didn't know where it was. Last night I couldn’t sleep, so I started poking around and I found the spot, and it's an actual goddamn secret door. You have to stand with your weight on a certain floorboard and then lean against the paneling to get it to click, but then it swings open and you can go down. typical creepy ass old basement with rickety stairs and no light switch at the top. you have to walk down the stairs and pull the string attached to a bulb. When I first opened the door, the old man was standing down there. He turned and looked up at me, then started charging up the stairs. I was so freaked out that I slammed the door shut and turned all the lights in the house on. Even creepy ass hallucinations can't hurt me, but damn if I'm going down there at night.

August 26: After breakfast today I took Rott and went down to the basement. He didn’t like it down there, but stayed with me. I was fascinated. the room is about the size of the entire house and just full of stuff. Old tools, boxes, a huge shelf of preserves, a few trunks that are locked (i always wanted to learn to pick locks... maybe I should order lockpicks), and a bunch of dead bodies that kept appearing and disappearing. I've always been told that hallucinations are random, but damn if they weren't being appropriate to the setting!

I kept finding papers all over the place. Just stacks and stacks of newspapers and magazines and old bills and letters and paperwork. I'm making a resolve to take an armload of shit upstairs to throw away every time I come down here. Maybe I can clear this place out and set up some kind of rec room. I could hire some kids from in town... that'll go over great. "Mom, the schizo who just moved into the old farmhouse wants me to go over to his place and spend time in his basement." THAT should go over well.

August 28: I started actually looking through some of the papers I've been bringing up. Not the newspapers, though there's a box full of old clippings from like the 70s I'm going to go through at some point. I think there are property records, tax documents. A lot of it is written in another language. I can't tell what it is, maybe Russian? Cyrillic? At one point the letters started swimming around on the page and my eyes started to hurt. would a hallucination give me eyestrain?

September 3: I saw the old man walk into a wall again. I realize now that the spot he keeps walking into is the spot where the secret door is. What the fuck. How the fuck did I hallucinate this before I knew where the door was?

September 6: The damn cucumber vines were ripped up again. I'm gonna buy a game camera next time I go to town, but it's too late in the season to plant again. Maybe I'll spend the fall building a fence so I can plant in the spring. As I was raking up all the torn up vines, I kept seeing little fingers poking up through the dirt. I swear my hallucinations are getting more and more macabre since I moved here.

September 7: I used to have a cat so I know exactly what it feels like when a cat jumps up onto the bed with me and walks up my leg and sits down on my back. Felt that last night. I then hallucinated that Rott started freaking out and barking at the bed, chasing the cat away.

September 18: I feel like I'm walking around in muddy water all the time. I'm so exhausted I didn't even blink when I saw screaming kids run out the house past me as I sat on the porch watching Rott chase falling leaves.

September 23: I saw the old man outside the house for the first time. he was digging in the cucumber patch. I could barely tell what I was seeing at first, since it was so dark.

October 6: I heard little kids screaming coming from the basement. The dog reacted, so I realized that I was hallucinating the dog too. Hallucination Rott started freaking out and tearing at the wall where the hidden door is. I went to my bedroom and laid down with the door closed and a pillow over my head, counting down repeatedly and eventually he stopped. I think I napped at some point after the hallucination stopped barking and then I realized that Rott was under the bed the whole time. I feel kind of tired now though, so I'm going to just try to sleep through the night.

October 7: I slept like the dead last night. That's the first full night of sleep I've had since I started this new medication! Woke up with the door shut and Rott outside the bedroom again. Gonna go make breakfast and then rake some leaves.

The goddamn panel over the secret door is all scratched up where the hallucination dog was barking and scratching at it. the scratches aren't going away, I think they're real. which means the dog barking at the screaming was the real Rott. which means the screaming was real. I'm too scared to go down there anymore, and I shoved the china cabinet in front of the panel.

October 17: I finally started going through all the newspaper clippings and found a lot about property being purchased, cleared, developed. This town was apparently built in the 60s and 70s, and a lot of people all moved here at once. Nobody really knew each other.

There are other clippings too though, and they all have the same theme. people going missing, especially kids. there are tiny notes in the margins, again in cyrillic or whatever it's called. several articles talk about how there's a ton of drifters coming to the town looking for work, and several were arrested. They never found the kids though.

October 23: I went down into the basement again. Rott wouldn't go with me. When he realized I was going down, he ran upstairs and hid in the bedroom. I spent some time digging around, and found a lot of old tools. Rope. Hatchets. Saws. They're all really old and rusty and worn out. There was a little kid standing there naked just staring at me for a long time. I tried to ignore him, but he started crying so I had to leave.

October 24: I saw the old man in my bedroom again last night. He was yelling at me in Russian or whatever, so I pulled the blanket over my head. Suddenly the bed was shaking like someone was trying to flip it over, and my lamp flew across the room. Everything stopped really suddenly when Rott started barking, and eventually I lay there for a few hours until I went to sleep. I woke up this morning to see scrapes on the wood floor underneath my bed's legs, and the lamp was shattered in the corner.

October 28: Ok so that old man is a fucking ghost of some child murderer. There's no fucking way he's just a hallucination. All the things I keep seeing lately are related to the fucking perv's victims: the dead bodies, the rats, the fingers, the little kids. Doc, you said I'd see different hallucinations when I started the medication, but we didn't fucking account for me moving into a fucking haunted house!

October 31: I can't find Rott. I saw the old man in the basement as I was going through more papers, and he chased me with an axe in his hand. Rott charged at him as I ran up the stairs, and I fucking hid in a closet. I don't know if it was the real dog or not, but I can't find the real one now.

I called Mom just now. She said she never brought the dog to me, that she took Rott to the pound a month ago, and is very worried about me. I don't know what to believe anymore. Is the dog I've been hanging out with all summer a hallucination? Or did I hallucinate the call with Mom just now?

I can hear Rott. He's somewhere in the house whimpering and crying out. I can't find him. Every time I went to one end of the house, I heard him on the other. When I went over there, I heard him upstairs. It's midnight and I'm terrified. I looked downstairs and saw the old man walk out of the basement. I realized he only ever walks through the wall in that one spot, so I ran for it and barricaded myself in the bedroom.

I keep hearing footsteps out in the hallway. I think he's muttering to himself in Russian again.

I've got my shoes on and my keys and wallet in my pockets. I'm bolting for the front door when the sun comes up. I never saw the fucker during the daylight, so I think I'll be safe. I don't care how 'functional' you called me, Doc. I'm heading straight for the loony bin and letting them drug me into a stupor. I can't deal with this anymore, not knowing what's real and what's not and what's a fucking ghost. I'll give you this journal then, so you can 'record the progress of my descent into insanity' or whatever it is you had me do this for. I think I'll


© Copyright 2020 C. J. Davis. All rights reserved.

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