Chapter 3: A Couple of Entries Later

The next morning, what woke me up was the shrill ringing of my phone. I groaned, and slid open the closet door, still laying on the bottom of the closet. I wasn't ready to try to move yet.

My vision was blurred, and all I could really make out was the light that was coming in from the windows and from the lamp that I'd left on. I thought I saw something white under my bed for a moment, but it was gone after I blinked a couple of times to clear my sight. I shivered slightly, trying not to think about what it was.

My head pounded in pain, and the high ringing of the phone didn't help it much. I stood, shaking my head to clear it, and focus myself on getting the call before whoever it was hung up. I made my way over to the nightstand, where I'd left my cell phone, picked it up, and flipped it open.

“Hello,” I said, knowing that I probably sounded rough.

“Rei,” my mother yelled into my ear. “Where have you been? We have been worried to death about you! I've been trying to call all morning!”

“I... was just sleeping in, mom,” I replied, letting out a little sigh. There was no way I could tell her about what had happened. My parents were where I'd gotten my logical outlook on life, so neither of them would believe me. They'd try to send me to a psychiatrist. However, at this point, I could not deny that there were something that did, in fact, exist out of the boundaries of logic.

“Sleeping in,” she scoffed in disbelief. “I call three or four times, and you sleep right through it.”

“Sorry,” I replied simply. In my mind's eye, I could see her rolling her eyes.

“Well, you had better hurry and get ready before you miss your train,” she said, her voice still loud, causing my head to ache even more.

“Alright, mother,” I said, rubbing my temples and reaching for an aspirin. “I'll let you know when I get on the train,” I reassured her, ready to get away from this house. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replied, her voice becoming softer. “Be careful. See you soon.”

I closed the phone, and sat it back down, and went to get ready and pack as quickly as I could. It didn't take long before I was packed, dressed, and ready to leave. I grabbed my bags, and started to walk out of my room. I stopped, and turned slowly, looking back into the room. The journal now sat in the middle of my bed. I was disturbed, but over the course of the last couple days I'd seen much, much worse. I grabbed it up, shoved it into my bag and left for my parents' house.

The whole way to the train station I was on edge. I watched out the bus window, because I didn't want to make eye contact with anyone around me. When the morning began, I didn't think that those things, the nightmares, would haunt me in the light. However, I was wrong, and I wouldn't make the same mistake again.

When I'd gotten on the bus, I locked eyes with a young girl, about twelve years old. Within seconds, her face seemed to shift and morph into the face I'd seen the night before. The laughter rang in my ears, just as it had when I was losing consciousness. After I closed my eyes for a moment, she was normal again. I resolved not to look at anyone that I didn't have to for the rest of my trip. I didn't want to see that horrible face again.

Without much incident, I arrived at the train station right on time and boarded my train. I found my seat, grabbed my bag and rummaged through it for the book. I opened it, and began to read the next entry.

“25^th of June, Year 1901

Strange occurences have kept me from writing in this book for the last few weeks. I will, however, summarize for future reference.

The kuchisake-onna has been chasing me ever since our first encounter. Any time that I have left this house, I see her when no one is around. She asks the same question every time.

'Am I pretty?'

I still don't know how to respond, so I say yes without hesitation. So far, she has just faded back into the night with a quiet giggle. I know it isn't over, though. She wouldn't keep coming back if there wasn't something that she wanted from me. It worries me, because I am sure that whatever she wants, I do not have.

Aside from the relentless kuchisake-onna, I have also stumbled across many other wandering spirits. However, not many of them are of particular interest. Spirits of the dead surround me daily, most of which are indescript.

Among them, however, was one of particular note: The spirit of a young girl whose life was lost in this very house. I do not know much about her passing, but I do know that it was unpleasant. Her persistance to make contact and the form her spirit takes is enough evidence to conclude this. I am not sure what aroused her spirit after all the time I have been in this house, though I have a threory.

Ever since I was very young, I have been able to see what others couldn't. Spirits, demons, oni, yokai... Whatever you wish to call them, I have seen them all. They were attracted to me like moths to a flame. They still are.

I have reason to believe that weaker spirits can manifest themselves more easily when they have the energy of more powerful spirits to feed from. The anger, hatred and sorrow that they felt when they died becomes amplified and they can bring themselves into this world with less trouble. This is how I can explain the girl's suddenly more frequent appearances.

~Akiyama Tatsuki”

For a moment, I paused and closed the book. I looked out the window, the noontime sun shining bright. It was going to be a long ride to see the family. I took a sip from the bottle of water that I'd brought along, and sighed softly. I cracked the journal open again, flipping to the third entry.

“26^th of June, Year 1901

I have spent the last few days staying in the house, not venturing out. I am weary and need to rest. The spirits seem to calm down as long as I am inactive. They still interfere with me, of course, but less frequently.

Most spirits follow me, the other souls around me drawing them in. If I were cowardly enough to stay in this house for the rest of my days, I am sure they would eventually lose interest. However, I take it upon myself to put these lost souls to rest. I believe it is why I was put here.

However, I have been considering ridding myself of these entries. I wonder how they are affecting the spirits around me. Are the aware that I am keeping track of every time I see them? If they are, then it is possible that they keep coming back for the attention; to make themselves stronger with every bit of mind I give them. Nonetheless, I find it vital to keep up with what I have seen, in the case that someone needs the knowledge in the future.

My decision has come to this: I will continue writing no matter what the consequences. I am sure that the spirits will eventually claim my life whether I encourage them or not. It is a fate that I accepted long ago, so I will do what I must until then.

On that note, I have seen the young girl again. I still do not know what it is that she wants, but I have the distinct feeling that she really isn't a malicious as she seems. I think that the influence of the other demons around me has greatly changed her. I never felt a malicious precense in this house when I first moved into it. If she was that impure, then she would have made herself known much, much sooner.

I wish that I could release her from the prison she is locked in, but I do not know how. Maybe one day I will.

If someone happens across this journal, please seek out my home, and help the girl that is trapped there, if I haven't yet done so.

~Akiyama Tatsuki”

I noticed that the journal had a couple of splashes of water on it as I began to close it. I reached up, placing my fingertips to my face, and realized that they were my tears. I had no idea why, but I quickly wiped them away and shoved the book into my bag. I didn't want to read anymore. I wanted a normal weekend.

I sat my bag in my lap, and laid my head on it. I took one last look out of the window, watching the city fly past me. I let the breath flow from me, sighing softly. I was so unbelievably exhausted. I just wanted to sleep the whole way to Tokyo. My mind drifted as I began to submit to a deep sleep.