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The Things in My Room

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Dear journal,

This is kind of awkward considering this is my first entry. You see, I'm not really used to writing in a journal; after all, this is the first time I really feel the need to do so. Believe me though, I would not bother if there was anyone I could actually talk to. Well, not that I can't talk to my parents, or even my little sister (she's just a baby though...) but I simply feel nobody can truly understand what I'm going through. I swear, I tried talking about it with my mom, but she brushed it off, saying my imagination was playing tricks on me. Ok, I guess I should explain the situation, otherwise you won't understand what I'm talking about.

It all began a few weeks ago, or at least I started being aware of it. It was a little while after we moved to a new house that those strange events started to occur. It started with nothing big, just some shifty sounds under my bed at night. Like something scratching, or dragging itself on the floor. When I checked under my bed, there was nothing out of the ordinary.  I didn't make a huge deal of it at first, but then it would happen more often, until, at some point, I could hear them every night. But, you know, they were just noises and, as I said, my mom kept telling me it was my imagination. I knew it wasn't, but convincing myself she was right helped ignoring the sound. At some point though, she did call a pest control center to check the house, but they found nothing. By this time, I was so used to the noises that they wouldn't scare me that much anymore.

That is, until I started hearing faint, muffled voices underneath my bed and from the corners of my room. At this point, I really began to freak out and had a lot of trouble falling asleep at night. When it happened, I would  bring the covers over my head and pluck my fingers in my ears so the voices would stop. But they wouldn't. In fact, they would grow closer, and louder. Not quite loud enough so I could figure out what they were saying, but enough so I could tell they were right next to me. Sometimes, I was getting so scared that I would jump out of the bed, only to realize the voices had stopped as soon as I opened my eyes, as if they weren't even there to begin with. My mom though that giving me some sleep pills might help, but it didn't, at least, not much. The nights the voices showed up, I was too scared to sleep, and the nights they wouldn't, the nervous expectation would keep me awake.

After a while, my problem was still just getting worse. I was having night terrors almost every evening, but I also began to feel "their" presence during daytime. Whenever I'd be in my room, I felt observed, as if someone was peeking over my shoulder, or watching me from behind. I'd turn around, only to realize I was alone. Sometimes, I'd briefly see something, out the corner of my eye; just a swift movement, almost unnoticeable. Yet again, there seemed to be nothing in the room with me. Nothing that I could see, at least. At times, I would leave my room and, upon coming back, I'd feel like something was wrong and it would give me the chills, like if something was out of place. This happened a few times before I finally noticed what was wrong: things in my room were not quite the same place as when I left. I thought maybe it was my mom tidying up, or my little sister messing with my stuff, but it was happening more and more often. I asked my mom a few times if she'd been in my room and each time, she'd say: "No, hun. Why?" Was I growing crazy?

At some point, I could clearly see that some things were not at the spot I remembered putting them and no evidence to point toward my mom, so I went to my parents' room and borrowed my dad's camera. Before going to school, I set it up in a corner of my room and started recording. This way, I would know for sure who or what was messing with my stuff, and with my mind too. Little did I know... When I came back from school, I rushed toward my room and checked on the camera. It was shut. I turned it on and checked the recorded footage. There was nothing... Now, I know what you might think; I probably set it up wrong and it wasn't even recording in the first place, but I know I didn't, because I tried doing the same the day after, making sure it was recording  and, once again, the footage was deleted.

Well, I guess that sums it up... All those strange things keep happening since then and I never found the cause of it. At some times, it also gets worse; some of my stuff disappears, only to reappear some time later and sometimes at weird places: in a flower pot, in the car, in my school bag. Even weirder; objects that do not belong to me ended up in my room! Frankly, I have no idea what to do anymore, except bearing with it. But, in the back of my head, I keep thinking that, whoever, or whatever's the cause of this mess, it could be after me, making me crazier and crazier, day after day. What if it becomes aggressive? I'm scared, and that's why I decided to write down my feelings. I don't know if it will ever go away, or if I'll ever feel better, but at least I know that, during those frightening nights, I can count on my best friend, my toy cowboy: Woody.

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