So a few weeks ago I mommy grandma died. She had some type of cancer, I’m not sure. We were never exactly close, she and my mom didn’t exactly end on good terms. However, apparently since “we were family” and “she loved us” we had to help my cousins and aunts and uncles clean out her house. We had already spent about 2 hours cleaning everything out when we finally got to the attic. There was so much dust only me and my little brother would go up there (everyone else claimed to either be hungry or tired or allergic). We were clearing stuff out when I found a weird book. It was about 2 inches wide and maybe double that in length. It had a bunch of scratches on it that vaguely spelled out Dary (I put 2 and 2 together and assumed that it was a diary). I asked my mom what to do with it and she said to throw it out. I honestly wasn’t sure what made me do it, but I hid it in my coat pocket, and then left it in my night stand back at our hotel. After everything was done and grandmas house was sold we made the long trip back home. About 2 months later I was grounded for sneaking out with my friends (apparently my mom thinks my friends are gonna get me addicted to drugs) so I was just sitting in my room, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly, I remembered my grandmas diary, and I dug it out of my suitcase and started to read it (I was bored, ok?). I finally got my phone back today, and have spent a week reading her diary. This is what I’ve been able to translate from my grandmas poor handwriting.
Sept 1, 1942
It’s my tenth birthday. Mother has given me this diary as a present. She says a lady is to alway keep a diary. (A little bit of text is smeared here, I couldn’t figure it out) I hope to make her proud. God bless you reader, Caroline.
(Then there’s a gap of about 3 years or so, I think she tore the pages out)
April 6, 1945
Mother says that I should be grateful to have loved and lost, but I can only feel sorrow. I loved him, and I mistakenly believed he loved me in kind. Little did I know, he had been cheating with his cousin Nancy. (I remember hearing about this, apparently they moved to Kentucky and died in a tornado) I couldn’t believe when I had heard. I long for anything that might relieve me of my sorrow. (She seemed like a drama queen)
April 22 1945
What a strange night! I was volunteering at the church tonight, helping sew clothing for children in need. I had just finished up and was walking home when I felt a strange feeling up my back. I turned around and standing, just 3 yards away, was a strange man I had never seen before. He seemed like he was wearing a long, black cloak, and had what appeared to be a blood red mask on. I felt uneasy staring at the man, and so I started walking back to my house. I walked briskly for about a quarter of an hour before I saw another figure, this time ahead of me. He was about a foot shorter than me, and wore a pale white expressionless mask. However, while the man behind me made me feel uneasy, this child (I could figure out what she called it, but I’m assuming it was a kid) made me feel surprisingly at ease. He beckoned to me and held out his hand. When I took it, I turned around and the man with the red mask was standing right behind us. I could see his eyes behind his mask, and if looks could kill, everyone in town would be dead. The boy place a hand in his pocket and took out a pocket watch, showed the red masked man the time, and then the man simply walked away. The boy led me back to my house, and when I turned around to ask him his name, he had vanished. I fell asleep as soon as I hit my bed, and woke up this morning. I don’t understand what happened, but I express great gratitude to the white masked boy, whatever it was. Feeling uneasy, Caroline.
Im not sure if she had dreamed that or not, that’s as far as I was able to get. I don’t understand exactly what the hell she saw. I plan on asking my mom if she had any mental issues tomorrow. I will update as soon as I can.