My 15 year old niece had recently passed away due to complications with pneumonia. Before she died, she told everyone that she wanted me, her aunt, to have her diary.
To this day I don’t know why she wanted me, someone who was barely older than her, to have it.
What I found inside is troubling. I received permission from her parents to disclose what was inside. If I find out this consent is withdrawn for any reason, this will be removed.
Names, dates and locations will be changed to protect whoever was involved.
October 8th. Dear Diary, Today I found out that there’s a locked door in the basement. I went down to the basement to grab a box of mom’s stuff and found the door. Mom told me that it’s been locked since before they moved in. I must see what’s inside.
October 9th. Dear Diary, I tried every key we had to find out what was inside the door. None of them worked. Fuck.
October 11th. Dear Diary, Yesterday was pretty busy. We had guests come over, so I didn’t have time to write. I heard from a few family friends that the local thrift store has a skeleton key that might let into the door. I’ll check it out tomorrow.
October 12th. Dear Diary, YES! I bought the skeleton key! It was around 75¢, which was a steal. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to try out the key, as tomorrow everyone will be out of the house.
October 13th. Dear Diary, I did it! I got into the room. It’s really dusty in here, but I think if I clean it up a bit, I’ll be able to hang out.
October 14th. Dear Diary, Aunt May found out I managed to get into the room. She helped me clean it up a bit and we managed to even bring a few lights in. It really looks fantastic! I wish I could take a picture and show you.
October 17th. Dear Diary, Sorry I havent been updating. I’ve been hanging out in the room a lot lately, much to my mom’s anger. She doesn’t like that I finally have a place to myself. She claims that I’m gonna get sick from the “mold”. There is no mold, Beatrice.
October 18th. Dear Diary, I fell asleep in the room last night. I saw something. I don’t know what it was but it was outside the room and it was trying to get in. I’m scared. You’re the only thing I brought down with me. I’m scared.
October 20th. Dear Diary, The thing is gone. I managed to get out of the room. I almost don’t want to go back in, but something lures me in. I don’t want what happened to happen again, but I’m sure if I at least bring my phone with me, I’ll be able to call for help if needed.
October 21st. Dear Diary, This was a mistake. This was a mistake, I wanna get out of here but I can’t. It’s back. I can’t breathe. I’m scared. I want my mommy. There’s no fucking service in here. Dammit.
October 22nd. Dear Diary, I found out that Aunt May left some snacks and water in here when we cleaned it out a few days ago. At least I won’t starve. It’s still trying to get in. I can’t get any bars to call for help. I know their looking for me. Let’s hope they find me before what ever is outside that door does.
October 23rd. Dear Diary, Dammit. It’s so hot in here. The pounding won’t stop. I’m scared. I want my mom. Why didn’t I bring a fan?!
On the bright side, I finally managed to find service and text my mom. She said that she’ll do what she can to get the door open.
She had the nerve to try telling me that there was nothing outside the room.
October 29th. Dear Diary, They managed to get me out. They tried to tell me that the door had jammed and that was the reason I couldn’t leave. But they couldn’t explain why I heard that banging!
October 31st. Dear Diary, I don’t feel any better. The doctor says it’s Pneumonia. I don’t know how I got it. Maybe that thing gave it to me. If I make it, I’m cementing that door shut.
The diary entries stop here. Mostly due to her rapidly worsening state. Just nine days after that last entry, she passed away due to complications with pneumonia. Nobody will tell me why she heard stuff that wasn’t there, but I might go down and see for myself. It may be stupid, but I wanna know what killed my niece.