I had always been curious about my twin brother’s life, especially since he had passed away so suddenly. We were close growing up, but as we got older, we grew apart and I never really knew what was going on in his life.
The tragedy of it all was that he ended his life in the bathtub by slashing his wrists. The event disturbed my older brother Carl and me so much that we could no longer live in our family house. We then moved out and got a shared apartment together while searching for job opportunities. This was only a short-term solution until one of us found a more permanent living situation.
So, when I found his diary hidden away in his room while visiting my parents, I couldn’t resist the urge to read it.
The first few entries were mundane, detailing his daily routines and his struggles at work. But as I kept reading, the entries became increasingly disturbing. He wrote about strange dreams that he had been having, about seeing shadows moving in the corner of his eye, and about feeling like he was being watched.
I found myself becoming more and more intrigued by this secret side of my brother. I was convinced that he had been experiencing something supernatural; a disruption in the fabric of reality. So I decided to go to my older brother Carl and try to get his help in unravelling the mysteries hidden in Tom’s diary, but when I showed him the diary, Carl dismissed it.
He said that there was no point in delving any further into what our brother had written — that trying to understand it would only be tormenting ourselves with unfair expectations. He said we should just remember that our brother’s memory will live on in us and leave it at peace.
To tell the truth, he and Tom were never close to each other, they were like strangers. Carl barely spoke to him, and when he did, it was a stilted, uncomfortable exchange. His words were clipped and void of emotion. My twin and I shared a bond that Carl could never comprehend; it made him envious. I could see the resentment in his eyes every time we exchanged glances. I was not surprised that he was so judgemental.
Somehow he convinced me and I also dismissed it as just the ramblings of a troubled mind. But as I kept reading, the entries became even more disturbing. He wrote about hearing voices whispering his name in the middle of the night, about feeling a presence in his room, and about waking up to find scratches on his body.
I was starting to get worried about my brother’s mental state, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to these entries than just the ravings of a madman. I had to know more, so I kept reading.
The final entry was the most chilling of all. My brother wrote about a dream he had, in which he was standing in a dark, foggy forest. He could see a figure standing in the distance, and as he got closer, he realized that it was his own reflection. But when he looked closer, he saw that the reflection had eyes that were black as coal and a mouth twisted into a sinister grin.
Then I woke up in a cold sweat, with the feeling that someone, or something, was still watching me. Whoever had been tormenting Tom, now, it seemed, was after me as well. I was dreading the possibility of discovering what I was sure was lurking in my own bedroom.
I lay in bed that night, feeling utterly terrified. I could feel a presence in the room with me, and it seemed to be growing stronger with every passing moment. I was sure that it was the same entity that had been tormenting my brother and I was sure, too, that it was coming for me. I wanted to turn on a light and run out of the room, but I was too afraid to move. I was afraid that if I did, this invisible force would attack me. So instead, I just lay there, paralyzed with fear, waiting for whatever was coming. Eventually, I mustered up enough courage to turn on the lights, but to my horror, nothing was there.
I raced down the hallway and burst into Carl’s bedroom. He was nestled in the sheets of his unmade bed, snoring softly. I shook him until his eyes flickered open.
“Carl, wake up! There was a figure in my room! I’m certain it was watching me and I was so scared!”
He grumbled and groaned, not wanting to face reality.
“What are you talking about?” He asked in a daze.
“The figure and voices I heard in Tom’s diary! They’re after me!” My voice trembled as I spoke.
“I don’t believe this nonsense! Get a grip, there’s no such thing as ghosts or demons!” He rolled back over and closed his eyes, trying to go back to sleep.
At that moment I knew I could not count on Carl.
I had to find out the truth by myself. I decided that if I wanted to understand what was happening, I needed answers and the only way to get them was to do some research. So, I started looking into paranormal activity and soon came across a number of stories about ghosts, spirits, and other mysterious entities. I started by reading books on the supernatural and soon became engrossed in stories of hauntings, poltergeists, and other strange phenomena. I learned about the ancient belief systems of different cultures around the world and their beliefs about spirits, ghosts, and demons. These accounts were both fascinating and terrifying at the same time.
Amidst the mound of new facts, the evidence seemed overwhelming yet directionless. I needed to delve into Tom’s past, something my parents might have kept from me. As I was mustering the courage the next morning to approach them, I felt a foreboding energy permeating my room again.
My hands trembled as I dialed my boss and spoke quickly, my voice rife with fear. After hanging up the phone, I grabbed my coat and rushed out of the house. My body shook as I rushed down the street, convinced the presence was following me. People stared with wide eyes at my frantic movements, heads turning to watch me as I darted around corners. I could almost feel its cold gaze on my back, urging me to go faster. Eventually, I reached my parents’ house, and slammed the door shut behind me.
My mum sighed and looked away as she spoke.
‘Tom was such a great kid, always friendly and outgoing just like you and Carl.’ My mom said, sipping her coffee on the couch.
‘You can’t just believe that cheerful and happy people randomly kill themselves without any motive!’ I protested, demanding an explanation.
My mother exhaled sadly. She absently stirred her coffee as she continued.
‘Something did happen. In the weeks leading up to it, his behaviour was changing. He looked a bit more distressed.’
I gasped in horror as she finished her sentence, unable to comprehend what she was saying. I thought about all of the strange occurrences that had been happening around my environment—the voices in Tom’s diary, the figure in my room—and now it all made sense.
‘Tom had become obsessed with the supernatural prior to his death and even though he never told anyone about it, his behavior had changed drastically after researching these matters online and learning about different cultures’ beliefs about spirits and demons.’ my mom said.
Just like me, I realized.
At that moment I also realized that Tom’s curiosity had made him vulnerable to whatever entity had been lurking in our home—the same one I believed was still there waiting for me now.
‘Do you still have his research material?’ I asked.
‘To be honest, it gave me the creeps, so we burnt them all with your dad.’
Except for his diary that you missed, I told myself.
I thanked my mother for finally giving me some clarity and rushed out of their home with a newfound determination to uncover the truth behind these mysterious events before they could harm me more.
The night seemed to descend slowly, the darkness consuming everything. I was exhausted from the day’s events, and eventually drifted off to sleep. Suddenly I awoke in a cold sweat, my heart pounding in my chest as I felt a strange presence in the room. I heard voices whispering in sinister tones, and a chill ran down my spine. I was alone in the house; Carl had gone to a party and I was truly terrified. I was sure something evil was lurking in the shadows, determined to take my life. I could hear faint whispers, like muffled conversation, echoing off the walls. There was an undeniable sense of hostility, an aura of malice that hung in the air like a physical thing.
I flicked on every light switch in the flat, my heart pounding in my chest. I heard the clatter of keys and Carl stumbled through the door, his breath reeking of alcohol. He made his way across the room, barely able to stand upright, and I rushed to support him.
‘Carl, I have something really important to tell you!’ I said excitedly.
‘Did you see another ghost?’ he slurred sarcastically.
‘No, it’s worse! It’s something in our house - it’s hunting me! Just like it was hunting for Tom!’ I said nervously as we reached his bedroom. He collapsed on his bed with a groan.
‘You’re still hung up on Tom’s death,
aren’t you?’ he said, his voice empty of emotion.
‘Why? You are not?’
‘Yeah, you both were connected while I was the outsider. I am not surprised you are still so devastated!’ his voice was flat.
‘What? What do you mean by that?’ I asked but he became quiet and fall back asleep.
My heart raced as I spun around to see the looming figure in the hallway. Its dark, gnarled silhouette glided towards me, and I stumbled back against the doorway. In a panic, I grabbed for the key on the wall, hands shaking as I tried to unlock the door but my sweaty fingers kept slipping off. I could hear the figure’s heavy footsteps getting closer and I could feel its icy breath on my neck and all I could think about was getting out of there.
There was another door near the entrance, which led to the garage. When I looked at it, relief flooded through me when I saw it ajar. I darted through the opening, slamming the door shut behind me.
It was totally dark inside, but my breathing started to slow, and my heart rate decreased with each exhale. I closed my eyes in an effort to shut out the chaos and for a few fleeting moments, I let myself believe that I might actually be safe.
Then it started again. I could hear a series of whispers coming from all sides. I felt a chill run down my spine.
I nervously flicked the switch, and a single bare bulb flickered hesitantly to life. I scanned my surroundings, a wave of terror washing over me. Looking around desperately, I yanked open the cupboards, hoping to find some kind of weapon or tool to protect myself. All I found were a few rusted screwdrivers and a hammer, which belonged to our father. I never understood why he wanted us to keep those old tools but now I was very grateful to him.
As I rummaged through the toolbox, something unusual caught my eye. I scooped up a small orange bottle and brought it closer to the light. Tiny white beads sparkled through the thin, semi-transparent plastic and I knew right away what it was.
It wasn’t an evil force that was chasing me. Nor a ghost. Nor a malicious phantom.
It was all in my head, induced by the LSD.
Now I realized why Carl had always acted so strangely towards my twin brother and me. His jealousy and hatred had evolved into a sick sentiment. Our parents might have cared for Tom and me a bit more because we were younger and more vulnerable but it didn’t mean they didn’t love him equally.
He had driven Tom to take his own life, and he seemed intent on doing the same to me.
I crept past my brother’s bedroom door ignoring the voices and the threatening forms around me, every nerve in my body was on edge. I held my breath, not wanting to wake him up and face his wrath. I peered in and saw his small frame tucked in the blankets, unmoving, with a peaceful smile on his lips. I exhaled a sigh of relief, grateful he was still sound asleep. I hastily grabbed my things, not wanting to risk him waking up and finding me gone. I knew this could be the last time I ever saw my brother, and even though I knew he was a psychopath, I felt a twinge of sadness as I closed the door behind me.
My heart raced as I quietly made my way into the night and out of his life. Even though Carl hasn’t seemed to notice me missing yet, I know one day I’ll have to tell my parents what happened.