march 7, 2023

...*if you can't handle some mild gore (which would be censored in the later chapters) and creepy stuffs, please don't continue reading the story!*...

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^^^March 7, 2023^^^

My name is Kryz Lee. I am seventeen years old, and this is the first time I have ever owned a diary. I thought it could be fun. and perhaps I may finally be able to bring to life the words I cannot say and have always wanted to.

I live under strange, repetitive circumstances that my father and I are certain keep us alive. Every night before we go to bed we go around the house to make sure the doors and windows are locked. We check every single one at least three times, and then check the five locks that keep the basement door closed. We try opening it, making sure the door holds and stays sturdy, and then we go to sleep.

Sometimes we hear the pitter patter of footsteps across the ceiling despite there being no upstairs. A scratching sound heard against a wall, we simply turn the other way. Ignoring these phenomena seems to keep it at bay.

In the morning when we wake up the windows are often found unlocked, doors gaping open with no missing items in the house to mark it as a robber's work. We do not speak of these things, and act as if it had not happened. It is a normal occurrence for us. We continue on.

At school, most people are afraid of me. They call me a witch. They say strange things happen around me, that make people trip and stumble. A classmate can be working on a school project and as soon as they go to turn it in they find something broken or ruined. The only one who would ever talk to me was Matthew. In first grade he sat down next to me at lunch, told me he thought it was cool I was a witch, and shared half of his apple juice with me. He never ran away when a strange wind ruffled my hair, or a coloring book was thrown across the room by itself. When he was young it excited him, and now he ignored it like I did.

I always felt bad about being Matthew's friend. He was the type of person who shined and got along with people no matter what type of individual they were. He was one of the top soccer players, and did well in school too. In normal circumstances I knew he would have been popular. I'd overheard his teammates before asking why he didn't drop me, that I was holding him back. He said if our positions were reversed he knew I'd never leave him, and walked out as if nothing had happened. He saw the tears in my eyes and ruffled my hair. Dropping into a conversation we had been talking about earlier without any sort of awkward pause.

Klein Anderson joined us in tenth grade. On his first day he sat down next to us without a word and casually started eating his lunch as if this was an everyday occurrence and the rest of the cafeteria didn't steer clear of us like the plague. On the second day we asked him why, and he said he didn't believe in that sort of stuff and this place had plenty of seating here.

He did not hear me when I said beneath my breath that he should.

It was not long until we were friends, and then dating. I wasn't sure if I'd ever manage to get a boyfriend with the stigma surrounding me. Klein felt perfect. He never yelled when he got angry, and he always tried to be understanding. He did not often use words to make me feel loved, but his eyes told me everything I ever needed to know. He brushed off things moving around my house for the longest time on faulty vision or not paying attention, and that worked out perfectly for me. The same went for the strange noises.

It didn't become a problem until things became undeniable.

Today after school my boyfriend came home with me. I sliced up some apples for us and we watched TV together as I babysat for my little brother who was playing with his toys in the same room. I was giggling, leaning against him as he rubbed little circles against my arm, and then a crash came from the kitchen. The dog perked up, letting out an ominous bark while glancing in the direction it came from.

Klein straightened his back, glancing behind him. "Did you hear that?"

Me and my brother held each other eyes, before he turned back to playing with his train.

"Nope, what did you hear?" I answered.

Klein sat up, squinting into the kitchen. "It sounded like glass breaking?"

I trailed anxiously behind Klein, glancing back at my brother who was ignoring both of us. He had learned the unspoken rules at a young age, and we had taught the dog to stay with him in these situations. Remmy slept with him at night, and if anything strange was happening he made enough noise that either me or my father would wake up and make sure Ray was okay. Klein turned on the light, peering around the kitchen. "I don't see anything broken."

His brows creased in confusion and he ruffled his hair. I hurried to wrap my arms around him, pulling him into a hug before placing a simple kiss on his lips. "It was probably just a tree branch hitting the side of the house or something. Nothing to worry about," I brushed off.

He did not seem convinced. "Are you sure?"

His eyes stared into mine, open and trusting, and all at once I wanted to tell the truth. I hated lying to him, but this was for his own good. "Maybe my hearing is bad?"

He sighed, dropping the subject. "Alright... if you say so.

I ran my fingers through the scruff of his hair, pulling him back towards the TV. "Come on We're going to miss the best part!"

We cuddled together on the couch, occasionally laughing at the co-hosts antics and leaving little kisses on each other's hands and foreheads. But still, something felt different between us. Maybe it was something only I felt, a certain feeling of doom loitering on the horizon.

Looking back on this, I would mark this as the very beginning.

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