*6:49pm Tuesday*

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I haven't been able to shake myself from the feeling of cold, tight hands around my throat. The feeling of almost being defeated. The feeling of not being able to fight back. The feeling of another presence.

Aunty Rosa thinks it is all in my imagination and is telling me to grow up. The first time I have ever heard her yell was yesterday, when she told me to 'stop being stupid'. I know I am not stupid or letting my imagination run wild because I have a bruise, that swirls around my neck, to prove it and I have a swollen wrist as well from when it forced me to the ground, twice!

I know what I felt; it's not the first time something odd has happened around here and I can't stand living in this ridiculous street. There is no way I am going to continue coming back here unless my questions are answered and if I don't have anymore odd suspicions. I am done with having everything kept secret from me.

I know someone or something is out there. Maybe calculating every move I make, every decision I make but, that's not ever going to defeat me. Nothing will kill me, unless I kill myself and that's the only way I will ever except the harsh reality of death.

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