The Life Of A Ventriloquist

Journal Entry #9

I guess it would be a good idea to try not to get rid of him again. It's obvious that somehow he's going to find his way back without anyone seeing him. I can't go to the cops, they'll think I'm crazy. Hell I think I'm crazy. But I guess it's not much to say, considering that I'm terrified of a damn doll.
Even Annaleigh thinks I'm blowing this whole thing out if preportion. I tried asking her what she seen behind me when she screamed, but she pretty much avoided the question.
"It's nothing. You just need to get out of here as fast as you can. Do something with 'it' and run. Maybe to another country. I'll even go with you if you want." She said.
"Well that's very kind of you, but I don't want to leave. Apart from Nevada, which is nothing but desert where I'm from, Cali is all I know. This is where my life is. And I don't think it'll do much good to do something with 'it' because 'it' will just come right back at my doorstep."
"True. And I understand where you're coming from. But sometimes it's good to have a fresh start."
By this point, I kinda just let my "little head" take control. I kissed her. But she didn't really return the feelings.
"I-I have to go. I'll see you later?" S loophe said.
"Yeah sure." And I walked her to the door. I guess it was a mistake to get a white board. I went to bed last night and this morning Chester was in the kitchen. A lot creepier than before. A lot scarier and more dramatic. It said on the white bored "You shouldn't have done it, Adam." And Chester was sitting against the wall on the counter with a red dry-erase marker in one hand and a knife in the other.
The sad part of it all was the fact that as much as I hated to, I had to bring Chester back to the stage. But tonight was show night and I couldn't find him anywhere. So I decided to bring out the old one, Ed.
There wasn't that many people there, and even Annaleigh wasn't there. Fuck.
When I got home it was even worse. I went to get me a drink of water and there was something new written on the board. "You should check under the bed next time." So I slowly walked to the bedroom door and opened it. Nothing. So I got on my knees and lowered down to look under the bed and there he was. Staring straight into my eyes.
What is this, some kind of sick joke?!
At least, that's what I thought. Or tried to think. But it was obvious I was wrong. It wasn't a sick joke. This is what my life is now. This is what it consists of. This is me. This is fate.