The Journal

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Nothing but dead silence filled the dimly lit room I sat and dwelled in. I just wanted...needed to know about how I became the screwed up human being I was. People aren't just born into serial killers or crazed lunatics. I set my current diary down on the small nightstand, then began searching through the drawers. I discovered a smaller notebook titled "Journal". Huh. Doesn't sound like me, could it be someone else's? Nah. I flipped open the first page and gazed at the handwriting. "Property of: Johnathan Cuevas". Written in scribbled text. I flipped the page. "Hello, my name is Johnny. Today was my fifth b-day and my mom got me you as one of my gifts. Dad said I should have a book for all of the drawings and comics I make, so I may do them in here also. Bye bye." I stared blankly at the page. This doesn't sound like a sadistic child, like I expected myself to be. I flipped the page. "Today mom and dad got me a new pet rabbit. It matches my stuffed animal. I love it so much." I looked at the doodles and sighed. I tried to picture what I was reading, but it didn't feel like me. It just didn't.

"Go to sleep Nny. You have been up since Monday. Remember what your therapist said??"

"You just can't leave me alone can't you? I will sleep when I want to. You can just shut up and be a fucking statue."

Silence.

I shuffled around my pillows and sat down on the old bed. I was pretty tired. I didn't realize I've been up for six days. Figures.. I've been trying to start sleeping more ever since I've started seeing my therapist. She said it might help me to think more clearly, which is something that I would like to be able to do. I shook the blanket and laid down pulling it over me. I stared at blankly at nothing specifically trying to drift off. I breathed out and turned over a few times and eventually found a comfortable enough position and shut my eyes.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*
{ A few days after Nny's 5th birthday }
"Johnny sweety, where are you?"

The door opened. And the boy turned around smiling.

"Just painting mom."

"Oh hunny no no! Don't paint on the walls. We have some paper pads for that in the basement, remember?"

His smiled fell into a worried expression.

"Ok mommy.. Can you get the paper though?"
She raised a brow.

"We talked about this before..  There's not a big scary monster down there that's out to get you, but sure. No more painting the walls. Also clean them please."

She stepped out and headed to the basement leaving the door open.

"Told ya painting on the walls was a bad idea.."
He huffed at his stuffed rabbit.

"Sorry.. I didn't know. "

"It's ok Nail, but now I gotta wash it off."

"Uh huh. So what's it supposed to be?"

"Oh this is like uh.. Dream? or maybe halucination type of thing I've been seeing lately. It's this spooky shadow guy. I think he's supposed to be evil."

"That's not good. I mean it looks cool, but you're seeing scary stuff?"

"Yeah. Just active imagination probably."

"Like the basement monster?"

"Hush Nail. And that is not just my imagination."

The door opened wider and his mother walked back into the room with a handful of paper pads and empty canvases.

"Ok sweety here you go and here you go." she said handing him a wet rag and soap.

He sighed, but took the rag.

< LATER >

"Hey daddy!"

"Hey! How's my little Nny today?"

"Good. What're you working on?"

"That's good. Just working on one of my little comics kiddo."

"Wow! Who's the new character?"

The father laughed.
"Still trying to figure out what I what this character to be all about. I'm thinking of making him another hero, but he does do some shitty things to his friends."

They both heard a throat being cleared.
"Language Fred.."

"Oh.. Err sorry dear."

"You can share your comics with him, but he doesn't need to pick up on cussing."

The man grinned.
"At least I don't say a lot of perverse slurs like some of the other guys out there. I just say "shit" and "fuck" and -"

"HUSHHH! And ok I get it.

"Hahahaha ok ok.. I try to keep it clean."

She kissed both of them on the cheek and left the room.

"I don't get what's so wrong with cussing. As long as you're not a-"

"Asshole?"

The fathered laughed and ruffled his son's hair.
"let us just say rude or jerk. Is jerk considered a cuss word now?..."

"I don't really know."

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*
My eyes slowly opened at the annoying sounds of the Meatboy statue. Do this, do that, oh fuck... I'll just go for a damn walk today. If that's not good enough, well oh well.

I sat up rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and stretched. Sometimes I wonder if my dreams are ever true. I have no idea though, and I will probably never know.

I grabbed my bag with a water bottle, trail mix, cherry gummies, and a few of my..tools. Never know when fuckers are about. I didn't really feel like killing. I kinda just wanted to get out and clear my thoughts, it always made me feel a little better.

< LATER >

I walked around downtown glancing around at the pacing buildings. The bookstore I met Devi at is nearby.... I don't want to creep her out again like last week. I'm such a fucking idiot..

"Ooh."
I looked through the window of a new smoothie place. Then I read the sign. "CLOSED". Oh well, I will try to come back another time... Or possibly later.

I turned the corner and walked through a empty alley. This area felt oddly familiar, it made my stomach feel sick. Was I going to vomit?? God I hope not.. I sped up my pace and made it to the other side and walked into the arts and hobby shop. I needed some paper.

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