The Journal of M

Entry 1

Walking. That's what I've been doing for the last week. I can't find a place to go to a different level, much less the trading post. For a week I have been wandering level 0 trying to find a stupid trading post. I have seen it so many times, and now when I find some stuff that is useless to me I can't find any trading posts.

    I should probably introduce myself. I'm writing this so I can remember in case I forget again and possibly to help any travelers that come across this. If you are reading this, I'm sorry. I'm sorry you have ended up here in the backrooms. Hopefully you can use this journal to escape and go back to the frontrooms. To any friends or family sad over your disappearance. To somewhere where you don't have to worry about dying all the time. Or maybe you are an intelligent entity. If that is the case then I hope you are one that helps travelers instead of killing them.

  Either way, traveler or entity, I'm M. I think I am 20 and I have been trapped in the back rooms since I was 17. You probably have seen at least one wall with a smile face etched into it. One of the eyes slightly longer than the other, the smile stretching a little too much. If so, you have seen a level I've gone to. On every level I go I put my symbol there. I'm getting off topic. I have been wandering around level 0 and have come across the same dead body 28 times. I have tried to track where I am going so I don't walk in a circle but it has failed.

   Before I came back to level 0 I had been smart enough to fill up my bucket of almond water and put a few bottles of it in my backpack. I always carry around a blue backpack in the shape of a rabbit. It has a bucket hanging off one of the ears, with a lid and full of the one substance in this shitty place that is 100% safe to ingest. I am going to stop writing, I hear something. Good luck traveler.
         -M