Why She Follows

The words in the diary are typed and stapled in messily into the notebook in which they reside. and the journal is covered unidentifiable stains.

To Whomever Finds This

            My name is Chris Fiera, well that’s not my birth name but if you’re reading this then you probably know that already.  If you know me then just skip to the next page of this diary this is merely for context in case this is located by a stranger.  At the time of writing this my 16th birthday had occurred a mere 3 days ago.  Before, she entered my life I was a normal high school student. I loved hanging around the outcasts at my school, I had a summer job as an errand boy for a law firm with my mother and I read horror stories far too often for my own good.  However, my obsession over horror became something of a detriment as I managed to develop a child-like fear of the dark among other things, real manly right? That feels as if it happened so long ago…   However my fears are now far, far more rational.

            I’m writing this because the words I so dearly wish to say, would brand me a madman, and to say goodbye to the world in case my life is cut short by the curse I have had cast upon me. I feel that in death I should at last speak the truth I cannot in life.  I (there is a change in the handwriting here, it is now jittery and scrawled to an extent) I’m being haunted, but not by a malevolent or benevolent being as far as I can tell.  It does nothing but watch me, doesn’t speak, doesn’t scream, doesn’t move much or anything. I can see her in the glow of my laptop as I write this, she’s watching me.  I don’t know who she is, why she’s here or what she wants from.  All I know is what I am, and what I am is a … medium. This journal is recollection of events that will explain my affliction, my apologies if I drift tenses at time, I am trying to write this so long after it happened.

            Saturday June 2nd,

            Upon my return home from an excursion to the convenient store at the end of my street I noticed a girl standing on my lawn facing away from me.  Normally I would assume she was a neighbor or friend of mine that was looking for something on my lawn or waiting to talk to me, but something was wrong, more wrong than I could ever have imagined.  I stopped cold in my tracks, heart pounding in my chest.  She acted like the rest of the world did not exist, that she was standing in a plain white room with the object of her desire being exactly opposite her.  Her blind stare bewitched me and made my blood run cold.  I assured myself I had simply read too much creepypasta earlier that day and my paranoia was just overacting.  So like the socially awkward idiot I am called to her.  Something along the lines of “Uhh... Hey, you new here?”   She continued her gaze, I was petrified, my heart felt like it was about to burst.  I took a deep breath to little avail, and just stood there shaking.  I took the time to observe her appearance her hair was dark black and reached her mid-back, her body was athletic and muscled however pale, she looked about my age or a couple years older maybe. She wore black jeans and a black torn shirt which I can’t find the words to describe.  I found myself fixated on her raven hair which was in a way, beautiful, unmoving in the still summer air, mesmerizing.  But then I came to a realization, my own hair was blowing rapidly to my left.  At this point I don’t remember much as I’m writing this sometime long afterwards.  I decided to steel myself and get her attention; I approached her, every step feeling forced and slow.  I said hey and rested my hand on her shoulder as gently as I could.  Big mistake.

            The second my fingertips made contact on her shoulder her whole body shook, her back arched rapidly. And in that moment I felt my whole body collapse as if every bone in my body broken. However the pain was unbelievably dull, like, like frostbite.  I thought I would crash to the ground but I didn’t move, I couldn’t.  The pain subsided rapidly and we stood there as if frozen in time.  After what felt like ages she took a tiny cautious step away from me

Rose on the balls of her feet

And turned around facing me.

Her face was is pale and freckled slightly; her eyes are pale green, eerily so.  She just stood there with a blank expression on her face for what must have been at least 5 minutes.  After sometime I noticed her face had the slightest hint of relief in it, though it was so swallowed by the sea of expressionless flesh that had she not started doing… this, then I might have believed I imagined it.   She said nothing, paralyzed with fear I could not move, speak or anything. When suddenly my mother rushes out of the front door of my small crème paneled home screaming. “What the hell are you doin’?”  I just stood there looking at the girl, before slowly and nervously rotating my head to see my mother with an expression that said “what are you stupid or something?” Soon, I realized she may not be able to see the girl.  “Umm… I… saw some weird looking chick up the street.” 

I retreated into my home and to safety of my room, collapsing onto my couch like a ragdoll.  Being exhausted I just lay down and stare at the ceiling until sleep overcame me.

 Sunday June 3rd,

I awoke the next morning hazy, my sleep was not restful.  I could tell by the disarray of my two blankets that I had tossed and turned on the red futon the entire night.  As I leaned over to retrieve the lost blue plaid throw that now inhabited the dark tan carpet of my bedroom. I see a dark clothed feature in the corner of my room staring at me with a blank expression.  Raven black hair frozen in place, pale skin visible in the light through the small cracks in my blinds.  I start back in bed and find myself again frozen at the sight of her.  She just sits there, unmoving, unsurprised and uncaring.  I sit up on the futon slowly, without taking my eyes off of her.  I wanted to speak, ask her who she was or why she was here.  But I was too scared, so I merely stand up shaking like a leaf. And back out of the room.  I take care to open the door slowly, as if I thought that opening the door too fast would provoke her to … (It appears that the writer contemplated what they were going to say before writing as there is a slight change in handwriting occurs here)  I close the door equally as slow.  The click of the door times perfectly with a beat of my racing heart.  I brace myself against the door with my back to it.  Why is this happening to me? Why is she here?  Even among my own thoughts I sound insane.  Is she real?  She can’t be, nothing like this has ever existed outside of fiction, there must be an explanation somehow.  I proceeded slowly towards the kitchen without saying anything to my parents.  I didn’t see her for the rest of the day.

Monday June 4th,

I woke up, which in and of itself horrified me as I had attempted to remain conscious for the entirety of the night.  I was facing the back of my couch when I awoke.  My hazy mind was rapidly into full awareness.  The thought of the girl, made my heart star its rhythmic pounding again.  I rotated slowly towards the opposite end of the room; out of peripherals I see Raven black hair.  Exactly in the same spot as the previous morning.  I turn my head to see her face entirely.  She has the same blank stare that had had since I first saw her.  I move my eyes enough to keep her in view but see the crimson glow of my alarm clock.  3:21 in the morning.  I sat up on the couch and continued my stare.  My thoughts are racing but I’m much more calm than the previous morning, not to imply I wasn’t still scared shitless.  I took several cautious breathes, not making any sudden movements.  The thumping in my chest as receded to slight pounding.  I then, with my ingenious mind,I thought "hey, lets have a nice chat with the pretty ghost lady, maybe she just wants to borrow some sugar."    I scoot closer to the edge of the futon and weakly whisper " Hello?, I... I'm Chris.  W... Who are... you?"  No response, crap. "Umm... can you speak?"  Silence, that answers that.  "Umm... well... I."  The thumping in my chest returns as I look into her eyes, she continues her cold dead stare.  I feel like she looking through me.  Who the hell is she?  My mind races to all the episodes of ghost hunters that I wasted the majority of my late pre-pubecent years watching. Demon?, no too indirect.  Succcubus? Maybe, but then again why would she choose me and why is she just standing there?  Ghost of a past crush? That would make the most sense but I have never met anyone who looked exactly like that.  I decide I should change and get ready for work, I doubt I'll get anymore sleep this morning with her there.

             She followed me all day,  I saw her three times before I went to sleep that night.  As I suspected she would, she watched me sleep.  I didn't know what to do.  Run?, Hide? Exorcism? Satanic binding rite?  No, soon enough I learned my fate.