PART ONE: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/vxvwr6/thelma_gabriels_diary/
PART TWO: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/vym74e/thelma_gabriels_diary_part_2/
PART THREE: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/vzf7xz/thelma_gabriels_diary_part_3/
Following the advice given to me on Part 2 of this whole affair, I decided to search the database for any record of a Miss Thelma Denise Gabriel. I didn’t actually find anything useful though, which actually kind of fits given what I read in this particular diary entry.
It’s the weirdest one too. And honestly? It leaves me with a lot more questions than answers in regard to what happened to her and her whereabouts today. And I STILL don’t know who planted the damn thing in my backyard!
I only managed to find one credible source - a 78 year old woman named Polly Adeena. She was born in 1944, meaning she would have been old enough to be Thelma’s big sister, and her maiden name was Polly Gabriel.
I started to suspect the diary may have been real when I found out about her, but I figured her name could have just been a coincidence. Mrs Adeena is currently homebound, and being looked after by her 32 year old daughter, Carolyn Adeena, who, as you can tell, she had rather late in life.
Of course, I couldn’t do this as an official police questioning, no matter how much I wanted to, so I simply dressed in casual clothes and asked Carolyn some questions ‘as a neighbor’, as Polly apparently could not talk very well. The conversation didn’t last long anyway. I jotted everything down on a notepad when I got home, which is how I remember it went as follows:
Me: Oh, hey! You’re Carolyn Adeena, right?
Carolyn: That’s what they tell me. *laughs*
Me: I’m Crystal Locks. I recently moved in, and-
Carolyn: Yeah, I know. You’re that new police officer lady, right?
Me: You already know me?
Carolyn: Oh, I know a lot of people in this town.
Me: Oh, that’s nice.
Carolyn: So what seems to be the problem, officer? *laughs*
Me: Actually, there is no problem. This isn’t even anything to do with legalities, or anything to do with the department at all. I was just curious if you knew anything about a Thelma Denise Gabriel?
Carolyn: … Where did you get that name?
Me: Funny story, actually. I found a diary in my backyard that belonged to someone of that name, and I was just curious - as a neighbor - if you knew anyone with that name who used to live in town?
Carolyn: *sweating* No…can’t say I do.
Me: Okay then, goodbye!
Carolyn: Goodbye!
As I was leaving, I turned to shut the door, and Carolyn slammed it in my face. She seemed in a hurry to make me leave.
I’m more than a bit suspicious of her, but I don’t think the rest of the force would consider a possibly fake diary and a nervous woman as worrying or substantial enough to start an official investigation.
But enough with my ramblings. Let’s get onto the final entry.
November 9, 1961 (I think?)
Well, something incredibly odd has happened. I decided to take this diary with me in order to record what it’s like to move into the sky - and it’s very strange.
After I was supposed to go to bed tonight, I got dressed in my favourite red outfit and snuck out into the backyard with this diary, closed my eyes, and wished I was with the stars - and I could breathe. I learned in school that people can’t normally breathe up there.
When I opened my eyes, I was floating in a giant black place with stars all around me, with my diary and pencil floating near me. It wasn’t like what I imagined at all. I even tried talking to the stars around me, but my voice didn’t make any sound. So I wished for a door that would lead to a better realm, exactly like how I imagined. And a purple door appeared next to me, floating in the blackness. I opened it and pulled myself in, and suddenly I wasn’t floating anymore. I was in a giant playground, and the sky above me was still black, but it was covered with stars and I could walk normally now. I shut the door.
And I can talk to the stars too! I’m not sure how, but I’ve already played with them today. Plus, if I get bored of them, I can just wish them out of existence like I did with all those people!
I’ve already erased myself on Earth, but after I finish writing this I’m going to wish my diary back into our town. Maybe someone will find it and start praying to me like I wanted!
Well, actually, I’ve erased everything but Susan. I like her too much. She’s not alive anymore, though. My only remaining wish is that Violet was here, but I guess I’ll let her be back in Blackthorne. That’s the name of the town I used to live in.
So I guess I’ll spend the rest of my life here. Also, before I left, I stopped Momma and Daddy’s hearts too. I hate Polly, but that doesn’t mean I want her to put up with stupid parents telling her what to do for the rest of her life.
Also, using my powers I can still observe Blackthorne from here in a mirror next to one of the slides. Maybe I can visit too!
Goodbye diary, and hello whoever finds this in the future!
-Thelma Denise Gabriel
I started to wonder if that’s how the thing ended up in my backyard - she wished it there. But then again, if this really happened, it happened in 1961, and I was born in 1995. Thelma, if she existed, was born in 1954.
Then again, she did say ‘in the future.’ But that could just be a way of speaking.
Anyway, even though the diary is over, what with Polly Adeena and her daughter and the diary mysteriously turning up in my backyard and Carolyn’s nervousness, I get the feeling this whole thing with Thelma is far from completely over and done with.
And besides, the diary isn’t the only questionable and possibly-supernatural thing I’ve seen in this town as of late. I’m starting to take back what I said in previous posts about this town being normal. I will not go into further detail, as I believe these other things are other people’s stories to tell, but I can say that this town makes me more nervous as the days go by.
Maybe other people will post their own experiences on here, just like I did. Maybe this isn’t the end, but rather a ‘to be continued’.
And overall…
I think not just Thelma’s story, but Blackthorne’s story, is far from over.