The Journal

It was a normal day for me. I sat at the computer zoning out waiting for the bell to ring. It was a standard day in every sense of the word, well, for a while at least. My social studies assignment stared at me blankly on the bright computer screen. I could feel school sucking my spirit dry. It's not that today was a particularly bad day that was sapping me of all my mental momentum to get through this day, it was just the opposite in fact.
It was that today was like every other day of school, repeating over and over again. "The rest of this day had better soar by, or something amazing had better happen," I thought to myself. The bell rang, and I shut off my computer, grabbed my planner and proceeded to walk out of the computer lab. I tripped over some computer cords or something and the planner fell open to today. What was written for September 12th, 2011 was "grab your backpack." I turned around to see my backpack laying underneath the computer I had inhabited for this class period. This gave me serious chills. I slowly went to grab my backpack then carried with me on my way.
I saw a tall man sitting in the library reading a book. I couldn't tell what the book was but it didn't concern me. The man was well dressed wearing a pressed suit and a bowler hat. He was bald, or at least I was pretty sure. His icy cold stare gazing intensely into the book with his dead black eyes gave me an unsettling feeling that made me pick up the pace to English. I quickly forgot about the creeper staring daggers (which is what he would be named in my mind forever) and began thinking of the journal. I never use it. Was it me who wrote in there? I quickly dismissed it in my mind telling myself it's a one time coincidence. I said that I'd get freaked out if it happened again.
Well it happened again but this time, I wasn't freaked out... This sounds strange that my journal that tells the future doesn't scare me but it just didn't. This time on September 13th, 2011 it said "catch Jenna." Jenna was this girl in my social studies class. She was a goddess that descended down from Earth to fuck with the guys of this plane. She most likely was the goddess of beauty in a past life or, maybe, the goddess of sex.
This was a pretty cryptic message so I just decided to stay near her without looking like another one of her obsessed man slaves. Maybe nothing was gonna happen... I got to the stairwell and saw the creeper staring daggers. His head was turned up towards me as though he had been standing there waiting for me. He was wearing the very same bowler and suit. He shot me a little smile, nodded to me, then walked away. I turned to Jenna at the very moment that she tripped down the stairs. I immediately leaped to catch her. My arm wrapped around her and met her beautiful stare with one of my own.
"Wow thanks! That would've sucked if you weren't there," she said to me.
"No problem, ha ha," I said as I let her go. At that point I was no longer afraid of whatever was happening to me. I was way too unstoppable for fear to get me. I was a demigod.
Weeks passed and I used my journal for all sorts of things. I could always get the last laugh in when someone insults me, get 100% on tests, win immense amounts of money on bets, and plenty more. the weird thing was that whenever something foretold in the journal was about to happen the creeper staring daggers would appear somewhere. Sometimes there's even more than one. They never speak, they just sit there. One day, I saw one on a bench. I decided to speak to it.
"Hey it's me Phillip, but you already knew that... Didn't you," I said with a slight nervous quiver in my voice. He smiled. "I was just wondering... What are you? You always appear when something in my journal is about to happen."
"I ponder my own existence," he said in a deep, stern, stoic voice. "Hurry on to your next class boy." As though I didn't just tell him my name. I got up and left to my next class. Thoroughly disappointed in the answer I got.
October 6th, 2011. I love Saturdays. I rolled out of bed, called my friend and before I began walking to his house, I checked the journal. "Reach" it said. What the hell does that mean? I got an answer as soon as I saw five of the creepers staring daggers huddled around a gutter. I was supposed to reach in... As gross as it sounds.
I bent over, stuck my hand in, and started worming my hand around until I grabbed something. I couldn't tell what it was my just touching so I lifted it up. It was a gun. A six-shot pistol. It scarred me like all hell but some higher powers wanted me to have it. I slipped it in my pocket and ran to my friends house. I didn't utter a word to him about it. I didn't tell anyone. Soon it left my mind and I carried on with my perfect life.
It was getting into the months where it was cold. DAMN cold. It became a common practice of mine to sit in the living room, wrap myself in a blanket and read my journal after everyone else went to bed. It was my own personal time to think to myself. I believe it was a Friday when I saw something in my journal that shocked me. It said in thick, red letters: "Kill your grandfather." I immediately flipped the page as though I never saw it. The next page was filled with remarks such as: "It's his time." "Waste the old bastard!" "Don't toy with fate." "Kill the fucker!" Page after page of these terrible comments. I turned around to see a group of the creepers staring daggers in my own house.
"How could you ask this of me?" I cried out to them.
"You took the responsibility to be fate's right hand man. That means doing our dirty work every now and then. you must know this," one of them said.
"You can't possibly ask me to kill my own flesh and blood and expect me to do it!"
"Either you do... Or you'll be punished."
They all disappeared. I sat in that chair sobbing until I slowly drifted to the realm of unconsciousness. When I woke up my father told me some really bad news. He told me that tonight we were having steak dinner with my grandfather...
I dreaded all day going to that dinner. When I went there, there wasn't a single normal person there... They were all creepers staring daggers. They all had this furious look on their face towards me. They all whispered to me, "Kill him, waste the bastard" all night but no one else could hear it. Little by little, they disappeared, being replaced by the actual diners of this restaurant. The whispering slowly stopped and I had thought it was over... that is until I turned around and saw one last of them.
This one didn't look anything like the rest. He was about 7'5 and appeared to be primarily one mass of bulging muscle. He was a Eurasian beast with a furious look in his eyes. He glared at me and said: "He'll die. You'll regret everything." He then leaped past me onto the table, grabbed my steak knife, and stabbed my grandfather in the throat. Everyone panicked.
He didn't stop there. He murdered every one in sight with incredible skill. I stood there screaming but I had no effect on his brutal actions. He pulled a gun and shot more people down. he looked at me and began yelling "I told you that you'd regret it!!" over and over. I blacked out and woke up in the exact same pose he was in, in the exact same spot he was in, with a bloody steak knife in one hand, and a smoking 6-shot pistol in the other...
Category:Beings
Category:Diary/Journal