My name is Mark and this is the first entry of my journal.
I’m a patient at St. Mary’s mental hospital. I want to start by explaining why I’m here and what led me to insanity. It’s still hard to talk about it, but… Here we go.
Three years ago, I broke up with Joanne. Joanne was a nice person, but… I lost attraction for her. Not that she was ugly or anything. I just… I had been with her for some years, we were high-school sweethearts and she kinda grew out of her cute phase. I’m aware I’m a jerk for saying this. Even worse, I said it to her, which was a huge mistake.
Joanne didn’t have much self-esteem,and breaking up with her because of her appearance completely destroyed her.
In the following weeks, she went through all the five stages of grief.
First came denial. She kept texting me and calling me. “Hey baby, is everything OK?”. “You didn’t mean it when you broke up, did you?”.
Then came anger. She called me unholy names, keyed my car, etc. I was aware of how much of an ass I had been, so I let it go.
Cue bargaining. She’d call me saying she would lose weight, wear makeup, have surgery… None of that mattered and by this time I was growing tired of her behavior. It was also around this time when I met Chloe.
After this I stopped hearing about Joanna. I assumed by then that the depression had set in, followed by acceptance.
So, Chloe. She was a beautiful woman, I met her at work, good ol’ water cooler talk and whatnot. She had beautiful blue eyes, blond hair soft as silk and her face looked like that of a doll. It didn’t take long before I asked her on a date.
We started hanging out and were a couple before long. Over the next few weeks she started staying over and I ended up giving her the key.
A few months passed and everything was great. Until that day.
I had been calling Chloe all day but she hadn’t picked up once. She wasn’t at work either and nobody had seen her since the day before. I had decided I would go home after work, take a shower, change clothes and head over to her house to check on her.
When I got home, I immediately noticed something was wrong. My door was cracked open. I was sure I had locked it before leaving.
When I got inside, there was something on the floor. I turned on the lights and I saw her. Chloe. She was laying face down on the floor on a puddle of… Blood.
As I was reaching down to hold her, I heard a sound coming from the bedroom. I realized we weren’t alone. Heading for the bedroom, I grabbed the baseball bat I had in the hallway. The bedroom door was slightly open. I pushed it slowly, looking into the room as I entered. I couldn’t see anyone.
I went in, planning on checking the closet and the windows, when I heard the door closing and locking behind me. As I turned… I can’t ever forget what I saw. I let out a scream and threw up when I saw her. Behind me, was Joanne, covered in blood. But that’s not what caused my reaction. Over her face, crudely sewn, was… Chloe’s face.