The Fleshy Book

Seven Days: Log Five

Seven Days: Log 5

Log 5

Friday, February 21st

So of course there was nothing on my camera from Log Four. I mean, what did I expect? Every time these things showed up and were done for the day, everything would seem to reset and no one would know but me (and that Sender freak). And while I know that I should have been pissed at the end result of that, I wasn’t. I was just happy to be alive.

Now going back to what happened after Log Four. I arrived home, discovered that somehow it was 6:00 pm. again, and that the footage of Bob was no longer present on my camera.

“REALLY?!” I shouted at the sky. I was still sitting in my car in utter disbelief at what had occurred, and well annoyed. I sighed, Okay so, back to square one. Go write down Log 4. I parked my car and headed inside. I went in to see my mother doing laundry. I hesitated for a moment, shaking my head. Huh, I’ve entered the gates of Hell, yet everyone else doesn’t realize it. My arrival didn’t go unnoticed. “How was the library, honey?” The question was sudden and caught me by surprise.

“Wuh?” I asked dumbly. I was thinking about just how alone I was in all of this, still. “How was the library?” She asked again.

“Oh, it was uh….” Fricking awful. I got to experience a horror story first hand and nearly had an overgrown, armless, naked, freak with a ridiculous name, eat me! “Great, it was great.” I said with a fake smile (well to tell you the truth, it was a sarcastic smile).

“Well, that’s good.” She nodded before resuming her work on the laundry.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at that last statement. What was happening was anything but “good”.

I entered my bedroom, locking the door. I leaned back against the door frame and took in a long breath. I may have gotten out of today’s predicament but what about tomorrow’s? I knew I needed to write down Log 4, but I wanted a few minutes of rest. Losing the footage from last night, dying twice, and seeing my family members mutilated was taking its toll. I know I can be a sarcastic S.O.B. but jeez this is starting to become a little more than what I can take.

With another long breath, I walked to my desk and logged onto my computer. I recorded everything that occurred with B.O.B. (which I have no doubt you’ve read by now). I chose to end it with me getting home, since well, that’s where I really felt like Log Four ended for me. By the time the ending came I felt much more coolheaded and relaxed than I had earlier. But of course, things always start going wrong, just as everything seems to start going right.

I had just finished typing in the last few sentences of Log Four when the monitor beeped. A small indication on the taskbar of the screen told me a text box had been opened. That could only mean one thing.

“Great.” I muttered.

I really, (really, really, really, really) didn’t want to talk to The Sender. I didn’t need more news from a sadistic, self-centered, “Story Giver” about my next little visitor.

“You know what, screw him.” I muttered. I wasn’t going to talk to him today. It wouldn’t be like I’d actually get some solid answers from him. I closed the laptop. I could handle things from here on out.

***

For the next several hours, I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t sleep.

Not with so many questions and horrors flowing through the depths of mind. Images would pester my mind’s eye at all times.