Serial Part One
October 13th 2008 12:55
Monday, Day 1
I am keeping this log because I don’t trust that I will survive the week. It’s nothing that I can explain I don’t understand it but I am terribly afraid of this Friday.
The weekend was fine, I spent Saturday cleaning the house and watching a movie on Saturday night. My wife said that I looked a little pale but other than that nothing unusual or dangerous. Then Sunday I spent the morning in bed and most of the day at antique stores looking for a gift for my dad.
It was around five when I had the first twinges. I was climbing into the car when suddenly I realized that I was alone. I clutched the top of the door a little harder then usual and waited till the sensation passed.
I thought nothing of it till later that night I lay in bed and suddenly my pulse thundered in my ears. I closed my eyes, but all I could hear was a high pitched giggling.
I jumped out of bed, the giggling had stopped and all I was left with was a sense of unease and fear.
My eyes were raw I checked the house making sure that all the windows and doors were locked and then standing in the kitchen I knew, I just knew that I was being watched. Someone was watching me.
Nothing that I remember points to anything obvious but something is very wrong.
Driving to work the radio refused to sit on a station. Every time that I would tune it the sound would squawk till all I could hear was static.
At work my mind refused to settle on any one thing. Anytime I would try to focus a pervasive sense of dread would dominate my mind. I don't understand what is happening to me.
I tried to shake the giggling by going for a walk, to clear my head. The more I tried to forget it the more it seemed to dominate my thoughts.
When I returned to my desk I noticed that the calendar had been moved and Friday had been circled in thick greasy red next to a scrawled message “The end”.
I was rattled. I asked the others in the office if they had written it as a joke. No one seemed to know who wrote it. I threw the thing in the bin but from time to time I would find myself looking down those red greasy letter stared back at me.
I thought that leaving work would give me respite but on my drive home, I felt agitated and couldn’t shake those words, those red scrawled letters written bold on the calendar.
It could just be some strange joke but I can’t shake the idea that something terrible is going to happen on Friday.
I am keeping this log because I don’t trust that I will survive the week. It’s nothing that I can explain I don’t understand it but I am terribly afraid of this Friday.
The weekend was fine, I spent Saturday cleaning the house and watching a movie on Saturday night. My wife said that I looked a little pale but other than that nothing unusual or dangerous. Then Sunday I spent the morning in bed and most of the day at antique stores looking for a gift for my dad.
It was around five when I had the first twinges. I was climbing into the car when suddenly I realized that I was alone. I clutched the top of the door a little harder then usual and waited till the sensation passed.
I thought nothing of it till later that night I lay in bed and suddenly my pulse thundered in my ears. I closed my eyes, but all I could hear was a high pitched giggling.
I jumped out of bed, the giggling had stopped and all I was left with was a sense of unease and fear.
My eyes were raw I checked the house making sure that all the windows and doors were locked and then standing in the kitchen I knew, I just knew that I was being watched. Someone was watching me.
Nothing that I remember points to anything obvious but something is very wrong.
Driving to work the radio refused to sit on a station. Every time that I would tune it the sound would squawk till all I could hear was static.
At work my mind refused to settle on any one thing. Anytime I would try to focus a pervasive sense of dread would dominate my mind. I don't understand what is happening to me.
I tried to shake the giggling by going for a walk, to clear my head. The more I tried to forget it the more it seemed to dominate my thoughts.
When I returned to my desk I noticed that the calendar had been moved and Friday had been circled in thick greasy red next to a scrawled message “The end”.
I was rattled. I asked the others in the office if they had written it as a joke. No one seemed to know who wrote it. I threw the thing in the bin but from time to time I would find myself looking down those red greasy letter stared back at me.
I thought that leaving work would give me respite but on my drive home, I felt agitated and couldn’t shake those words, those red scrawled letters written bold on the calendar.
It could just be some strange joke but I can’t shake the idea that something terrible is going to happen on Friday.
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