14th July 2019
Dark, heavy clouds. The clothesline I left outside with a couple shirts laying on the floor from the wind. But I'll pick it up later. Its too cold. Plus, I've got too much to do.
I guess not enough since I can write in this book.
It feels pointless though. A dump journal. A journal where you just dump. Hypothetically, not literally.
Is this how I'm going to waste such a lovely book?
That's all I got for today. Goodbye.
You slid the notebook to the other end of your table, emitting the only sound that came out of your quiet room and stared out the window to the view of your clothesline once again. It was already 7pm and your eyes have already started to droop. Your mind is blank of ideas on what to put in this essay that's due in a couple hours, the word document left short of 400 words.
You had gotten it from the thrift shop down the road. The notebook. It stood out amongst the novels like a sore thumb from its leather backing to the golden snake embossed on its spine. It was the most precious thing you found. However, it felt like it didn't belong in this century, era even. That's what piqued your interest most. The rough edges of each page made you think it was handmade, the uneven surface was all too authentic.
You imagined it being made in a small corner shop, a maiden patiently sifting through pulp, piling dried pieces of paper into smaller stacks and binding them together using string and needle. The thought made you glee and you went home with a satisfying purchase.
15th July 2019
I've submitted my essay. It was crappy but whatever, as long as it's done.
I think I'm going to have toast tonight. Pb and j toast.
Sounds good.
Goodbye.
You flipped back to the first page of your last entry and almost threw your book out of the window. The last thing you wrote was accompanied by a small paragraph, etched with blue pen.
Funny. It's pretty sunny here where I'm staying. But on a serious note, you better save your clothes before you retrieve them frozen, been there done that. Have fun with whatever you're going to do and no, it's far from pointless.
Goodbye.
Your fingers shook as they traced the sentences repeatedly. How? Who? Where?
That night, you couldn't take your eyes off of that book. Every door and window is locked and your security system was on full alert. Long gone was the laziness you had to enable it in the first place. Your phone too had started recording as soon as your eyes shut. You slept paranoid.
16th July 2019
Whoever this is, please go away. Maybe you are just to good at breaking houses because nothing went off and none of my things were stolen. Maybe you are a stalker. Most certainly. Because who would do this in the first place!
Please just go away. I'm begging you.
With little to no sleep you woke up and checked the book again. There it was. The same handwriting in the same pen colour. This time it read:
Congrats! I knew you could do it! Well, I didn't know at first but now I do. Also, Pb and j? what's that?
Goodbye.
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A/N: something a little different! I've been experimenting with different styles of writing and I thought this suspense type of concept is interesting. We'll see how it goes!
Thank you for reading!
