Until We Go To Sleep (Jeff the Killer)

Chapter One

••April 23, 2013

Entry One

Well, this is my first diary entry. Well, my first diary. This is my dream diary. I don't really get how to start these things. Hi I guess. My name is Shiloh. I'm 14. Again, I really don't understand how to do this. My counselor recommended I create a dreams and feelings journal. You see, I have a pretty.... Well.... There's no sugar coating this. I have a pretty fucked up life. I'm not in the most peaceful state of mind. I live in this shitty place with my dead beat mother and younger sister but hey, I won't get too into that. Not only and I am antisocial freak, but I even find myself slowly losing faith in everything. But, I have something that keeps me going. You see, I have an obsession. An amazingly unreal obsession with ••

"Shiloh! Can you please come out of your room and watch your sister?"

I groaned as I heard her even call for a favor. "Okay, Im coming..." I said.

I didn't dare leave the journal around my room where it could be ridden of privacy. I went downstairs to watch my sister and my mother took her car keys and walked out the door.

"I'm going to run out real quick."

"Where?"

But before I could even ask, the door was already slammed shut. I was too emotionally drained to give a damn anyway. I sat on the couch as I watched my younger sister, Ariel was just watching basic PBS shows. Being three, she didn't want to do anything but watch tv, eat, and play. Luckily, she's just watching tv. I picked up the book and I began writing where I left off.

••with , how can I put it.... Well, there's this thing called Creepypasta. And... God this is so childish and I know 100% not okay. There's a few creepypasta characters -well one- that I just find myself overreacting over. His name is Jeff. Jeff the killer. Maybe you've heard of him. My obsession started this past September. It was minor. I read his story, a few spin-offs, and I was keeping it to myself. But now, I have other friends that are fangirls, I've read just about every fanfiction ever, and get this. I've been having dreams of him . How HILARIOUS! I know I'm slipping. I mean, I'm seeing him. I'm obviously crazy. Anyway, it's late. Ill write tomorrow and so on and so forth.••

I closed the book and threw the pen across the room. I really didn't care. Although I did shake Ariel.   "Sorry." I said to her. She went back to tv. I gave her the daily melatonin and she eventually fell asleep on the couch. I carried her up to her bedroom and tucked her in. I stood by her bed and watched her sleep. God. She was so peaceful, I wonder what she dreamt about. Probably not psychopathic killers that don't exist.

••April 24, 2013'

Entry two

As I thought, it happened again last night. I had another dream and I don't understand why I kept having him there. They aren't bad or anything. He's actually great company in the dreams.••

I looked up from the book. The clock read 7:05. Shit. I wasn't ready. I quickly threw on my shoes and put up my hair. I grabbed my stuff and ran out. I met my friend Brittany on my way to the bus stop. Luckily , I'm not alone in the world with this other worldly obsession. I brought her into the mess, and sometimes she's worse than me. But, she's still great support. She's my bestfriend and I tell her everything. "Hey Shiloh."

"Hey. I had another dream last night."

"With him?"

"Yeah. Ill tell you later at lunch"

Brittany nodded. The bus eventually came at around 7:15 and we loaded on. Being the first bus stop payed off. I had plenty of time to write on the bus.

••Last night, my dream was the usual. I was for some reason doing parkour into this abandoned building. Well, I jumped into the window that I already broke in the first dream. It's basically my main entrance. I take the usual route. Some long corridor and eventually, I look left and there he is. In his cell. Then, I black out. I immediately wake up in his cell, on a leather couch. We socialize, do whatever. But the dream always ends with me wanting more. And it's always the same. Exact. Thing. We are laying on the couch. Well, I'm laying on the couch. He's laying on me an cuddling me. And he always whispers the same god damn heart wrenching, skin quivering sentence. "I'll always be here in your dreams." Then he gives me the smuggest, most heart warming grin. Dare I say that I hate it? And he lays his head on my back and falls asleep. As soon as his head lays down. I wake up.••

"Come on hun, get to school." The bus driver said to me, looking at me through her top mirror. I closed up the book and headed to school. I knew that I was an incredibly odd person, but I can't believe even my bus driver knows it. God, the day awaits me. First period math flew by. So did 2-3 language arts 4-5 history Then 6-7 study hall Finally, 8th period lunch.

I sat by Brittany and I didn't feel like getting lunch. We got right to talking

"So the dream."

"Yeah I keep having them. Like, it feels kinda creepy now. The first two nights were cool. But then it got kinda.... Weird."

"Yeah.." She looked at me. "How are your legs?"

She knew that I was cutting myself and she brought it into play all the time trying to see how I feel or if I need her. I appreciate it, but it gets annoying after a while. I nodded and told her I haven't cut in a few days. But I lied of course. I appreciate that she's trying, but I don't need the help. At least I don't feel like it... So the rest of the day went by. 9-10 science and then 11 gym. I wrote on the bus as well.

•• And the funny part of all is that my school counselor still calls me "normal". How funny is that? I mean , maybe it's her job just to do it. Probably. If someone paid me to call then normal, I'd do it too. They really believe that I'm getting better, but im not. I don't want to get better. I'm just gonna keep this in the diary but, I'm a heavy cutter. I'm bulimic. But that's not okay. Yet I still just want to be left alone. I basically hate everyone so... Welcome to my world.••

The bus stopped and Brittany and I got off. I walked home and took the usual agenda. Go home. Do homework. Eat everything. Purge. Cut. And see where everything goes from there on. God, I hate myself.