I can’t believe it is finally my birthday. 15 years old, I am grown up now huh? Might as well sit with the adults on Christmas now. My dad even let me sip his beer but we don’t talk about that, my mother would freak out if she knew. In fact, she would freak out if she knew I was hanging out with my father after school for the past week. For some reason, after they divorced she never even let me call him, let alone visit him. To be honest, even when they were married she would never let me hang out alone with him. I don’t know why and I remember lashing out at her a couple of times when he would invite me fishing, to visit nana Maria, or anything related to his family at all. I think mom was overprotective of me because of Logan. But who the hell is Logan?
That name was like a plague in my brain, I couldn’t find anything about a Logan in our family. No photos, no history, and when I asked people would just shrug and change the subject. In fact, the only reason I knew about Logan was that one day, when I got early from school, I heard mom sobbing in her room and went to check on her, only to hear her bawling her eyes out and mumbling something about missing Logan. When she saw me at the door, she gasped really loud.
“DON’T YOU HAVE MANNERS? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?” she screamed.
I was baffled. Mom had never screamed at me before, let alone swear. I just left and went to my room.
That night she apologized. She even got some McDs nuggets for me (I know, I know but they are my favorite and I will defend them with my life).
“Who is Logan?” I asked while chewing and some crumbles of chicken flew out of my mouth and landed on the car’s dashboard. Disgusting.
“What Logan?” she asked trying to avoid the subject
“That day wh—”
“I don’t know what you are talking about, I don’t know any Logan and now just eat and stop talking with your mouth full. You are spitting chicken everywhere and the car is disgusting as it is.” She had a point about the car being disgusting (she was very lazy and never took it to a washer, not even those gas station ones, the ones that will scratch the painting off until you are back to the mineral form of the iron on the car. But I knew she was lying about Logan, she was a very bad liar, but I decided not to press on the subject.
It had been a couple of years since I thought about Logan but now I felt the need, the urge to investigate this. Who is this guy and why is he tormenting my family? I will have to search moms room for this when she leaves the house. Luckily this Friday is July 8th and, every year she visits her aunt (or so she claims) a few states away. Usually, she would leave me with my grandma, but since she passed away last year and I am 15 now, I convinced her to let me stay home alone.
I know for a fact that she has some stuff stored away in an old box in her closet (I was snooping trying to find the game boy that shed hid from me when I got an F in math and got grounded a couple of years ago) and Friday I will try to find it and investigate.
2:00 AM. Playing Runescape as usual (even on school nights) because I couldn’t sleep. Insomnia is a bitch, or you know, I might be addicted to this game, but I prefer to believe that I have insomnia. The scratching inside the wall started again. Damn old pipes, I thought. When I was a child and these scratches started, Dad told me that these were the sounds of old pipes and nothing to worry about, no monsters or ghosts inside the walls I guess. But it scared me. Even to this day, this thing terrified me. Mostly because it was very consistent. The same sound, the same time, the same spot on the wall, every single day. But today I have finally had enough of this crap and, since dad left us before he could replace this pipe, as he promised, I will investigate it myself and call a plumber to replace it in the morning, if that’s the case. I will grab the hammer from the garage and try to be as quiet as possible.
I smashed the wall very carefully, piece by piece (it was a very old house, the walls weren’t in their best shape and it was surprisingly easy to break a small hole in them). The problem was, that there was no pipe. No pipe, no rats, no bugs, nothing, just a wall. Empty. I gasped and dropped the harm, shivering. What the fuck is this? If there are no pipes, what the fuck is this scratching I’ve heard for 10 minutes every single day for years on end now.
It scratched. Everything went black.
4:05 AM. I woke up laying on the ground, with a huge headache and some drops of blood. I think that I got scared by the scratch and tripped on my shoe (I really gotta put these away, my mom told me that leaving them in the middle of the room would lead to an accident like this but I was/am very lazy) and hit my head on my night stand’s corner. Luckily no concussion (I guess). When mom leaves on Friday and I get a chance to investigate this, I will update you guys. For now, I guess I will sleep on the couch with my cat so she can protect me from whatever this crap is. (Most likely she would leave me as bait and run away). If you guys have any clue what is going on here I would really appreciate some ideas.