April 12th, 2024 10 pm
Dear Diary, if that’s even how you start one of these. It’s been so long now it’s hard to remember. Writing to yourself seems silly but I can’t get these rambling thoughts out of my head. So here it goes.
I’ve become too familiar with being alone. Big accomplishments with no one to share them with is heartbreaking. Living life’s moments only for yourself makes the world feel meaningless. There’s an emptiness within me that has become so comfortable I’m afraid of what it would feel like to fill it again.
I do long for companionship, but it’s just easier to be alone. At least when I’m alone, I don’t have to live in fear that the person I let in will abandon me one day. Pathetic isn’t it? Such horrible abandonment wounds I won’t even put myself out there anymore. Writing this down on paper seems way more depressing that I thought it would.
I guess I’ll leave it at that.
-Sarah Muller
April 20th, 2024 11 pm
I decided to give this another shot. I’d rather not go to the psychiatrist again and everything online says journaling solves a world of problems.
It’s another typical Friday evening. I finished an uninteresting week of work and like usual, I wasted most of my free time mindlessly scrolling. Wasting away what little bit of useless life I have, living vicariously through others.
I hate being around people. Being seen. It’s easier to be unimportant, unnoticed.
But tonight, something odd happened. I was engrossed in my doom scrolling when it felt like someone was in the room with me. I brushed it off. It’s not the first time I’ve convinced myself someone was stalking me. Even though I enjoy living alone, it does put a target on my back. Rather than working myself into a panic like I normally do, I ignored it. Well, I’m lying in bed now with a youtube video playing and that feeling is still here.
Maybe I am going insane. Fuck, these journals won’t help. If they find my dead body in my apartment a week from now, it’ll look like I did it to myself.
If someone is reading this, I AM NOT SUICIDAL. Yes, depressed. But life is, fine, I guess.
Well, I decided I’m going to down half a bottle of Nyquil to help me fall asleep since I can’t get this creepy feeling to go away.
Until next time diary,
-Sarah Muller
April 21st, 2024, 7 am
When I woke up today that same feeling was there. It’s like someone is here with me but it feels closer now. It’s hard to describe, sort of like they’re hovering. I haven’t felt anything, but whatever it is feels like it wants to be closer.
Maybe I don’t like being alone as much as I thought I did. Seems I’m making up imaginary friends now. Some spooky invisible monster that wants to be close.
God I’m an idiot.
-Sarah Muller
April 21st, 2024 9 pm
I just felt a breath up the back of my neck. I checked all my windows and door frames and while I can’t 100% rule it out, I really don’t think it was a gust of wind.
Whatever is here is trying to get my attention. I’m trying to ignore it but the more I do the more it seems to push.
Fuck. If only I had someone to text about this, maybe they could ease my nerves. Anyways, this diary is now a log of strange events I guess. Who knows, maybe I can convince some youtubers to come to my house to “cleanse” it for me.
Actually scratch that. They want everything to be a demon and I definitely don’t want a demon in my home.
On that note, I’m signing off.
-Sarah Muller
April 22nd, 11 pm
I think I need to move. I can’t explain what happened tonight, but I know that I can’t keep doing this. Either I have a stalker who is fucking with me or some really fucked up shit is happening to me.
I’m going to write it all down so I don’t forget it in case I do have to hire a fucking exorcist to come to my home. How I wish I could go back to being a healthy skeptic.
Earlier tonight, I was sitting on my couch in my nest of pillows and blankets when that same gust of wind crept up the back of my neck. But tonight, it didn’t stop there.
I tried to ignore it. I pulled my blanket up over my head, but whatever’s here didn’t like that. It’s like it started toying with me.
I started hearing tapping on my window. Only a couple, but loud enough to hear over the sound of my TV. The first taps came from the window beside the TV. When I heard it I froze. I am not a brave woman. I couldn’t even call out. I held my breath then started to relax when more taps came. But this time on the window right next to my front door.
My eyes are watering again just from writing this. Tonight was truly horrifying, I wish I was making this shit up.
After the taps near the door, I just sat there, looking between the windows. Then, of course it can’t stop there. Then my fucking door handle started jiggling.
Well safe to say I freaked the fuck out at that. I lunged for my phone on the coffee table but I realized who the fuck was I going to call? Even if I called police, I knew they would ask if I actually saw anyone, and I didn’t and I sure as shit wasn’t going to open my door to find out if someone was there.
But the jiggling of the handle lasted only for a few seconds, if they were really trying to get in, it wouldn’t have stopped there.
Fuck. I don’t even want to write this but I just realized. What if they were already in the house?
On that note, I’m going to get something stronger than Nyquil to knock me out tonight. Whatever is fucking with me is going to have a hard time waking me from a dead sleep after a fifth of jack. If whatever you are is reading this now, FUCK YOU.
(I’m insane, I’m now writing to ghosts in my diary.)
Goodnight I guess.
-Sarah Muller
April 23rd, 2 am
FUCK ME. I was passed out after finishing most of a bottle of jack when my TV suddenly shifted from my usual, random youtubers ranking random products, to the sound of cackling laughter.
The scene “They won’t stop laughing,” from the Evil Dead was playing on repeat. I couldn’t see shit, but when I set eyes on my remote on my bedside table and reached for it, I shit you not, the whole fucking table flipped over.
But of course, whatever the fuck this is couldn’t stop there. No, after flipping my entire beside table, glass of jack included, it started turning up the volume on my TV. It was so loud I couldn’t even hear myself think. I fell out of bed scrambling for the remote and to my absolute horror, I felt something actually touch me. It was like a nail scratching across the back of my neck.
I fortunately got ahold of the remote and turned off the video but the back of my neck burned. There was nothing in the room with me. Nothing that I could see at least. But something was there, I have the scabbed over scratch on the back of my neck to prove it.
At this rate, I am going to actually need a psych hold. Maybe all I need is a few antipsychotics and everything will go back to normal. But I can’t keep doing this. Whatever is here is amping up. But who can I even tell?
If I show this diary to anyone I know they’ll think I’m practicing for some shitty horror story competition. I guess being alone has really come to bite me in the fucking ass.
Here’s to getting fucked *Cheers*
-Sarah Muller
May 10th, 2024 10 pm
Good Evening Diary,
I thought it would be a good time to update you finally. This will be my last entry. I don’t need to write my woes down in a journal anymore because I have someone now.
I know it scared me at first, but I’m okay now.
You’ll be happy to hear that I’m not alone anymore. It’s here now, always watching me. No one else does, but it sees me. I don’t really know why it chose to notice me, or how long it’s going to stay.
But I’m glad I’m not alone anymore.
-Sarah Muller
No Further Entries.
The Grimoire Vault 
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