My collection of free short stories. Because nothing else in life is free.

Diary of a Madman – August 17th

**Author’s notes: This is the ninth piece, the first is found here

You can find the complete, professionally edited and extended book here along with two short stories for $2.99.**

August 17th
(Continued…)

Diary, I am writing from my childhood bedroom. I found the letter. I found all of them. How can she be dead and still be able to send me all these letters?

She’s alive and I need to find her. I plan on heading back to my apartment tomorrow morning to pack up and get a flight ready.

I called Vanessa from my house phone. Vanessa was happy to hear from me and I was also happy to hear her voice. I felt so nervous to even call her. I felt my stomach get queasy before I even dialed her number. I’m glad I did. The sound of her voice made me forget about everything. We talked for about an hour and she asked me to meet her friends. Our relationship is growing pretty fast. I’m not sure how I can juggle two relationships. I have one with a loving angel and the other with a murderous hunger.

The hunger swims in circles in the back of my stomach. It’s like a hungry shark contained in a huge fish tank swimming constantly in circles.

 

August 18th

Dear Diary,

The old lady down the hall has green eyes.

Green eyes.

Green.

The hunger.

 

It feeds off of green eyes.

 

August 19th

Dear Diary,

I don’t know what got into me yesterday. I can barely read what I wrote yesterday. I felt terrified the whole afternoon. Now I finally have a grip on things.

I need to tell you what happened. I got home and I placed my stuff down on the table. Then everything toppled onto the floor and that’s when I noticed it. The notes and letters that lay on the floor has the same hand writing. I felt so scared my body trembled. I made some tea and tried to calm down.

I felt horrible. I felt like my world was ending because I knew that there was more to all this. I reached into my bag and found an old book of mine I brought from home. It was James Thurber’s 13 Clocks. I opened it up and in the margin where I wrote my name when I was thirteen, was the same writing as the notes and letters. I walked down the stairs in a mindless stupor to check my mail. Nothing, it was empty. I walked back upstairs and I saw the old lady. Her eyes are green.

I must kill her next.

 

The hunger burns like acid. I think I’m going to be sick.

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One response

  1. Pingback: Diary of a Madman – August 16th « lverawrites

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