Entry 73

I want to sleep. Simple as that. The thing is I can't. I can try but he's there. He is always there. I can't explain who he is. Not because he'll kill me or something like that but simply because I don't know how. In the moment, I could tell you anything and everything about him but if I try to just look back and remember it's fuzzy. It's kind of like when someone asks you if you remember your meeting with them, you say no but they recount certain things and then you remember those specific things. Yet everything else is just kind of there. All I know is he is the biggest pain I know.

 See, he appeared one night as I was getting ready for bed. He was there in a corner, standing, but I didn't pay him any attention. I assumed I was so tired I was seeing things so I simply ignored it, and crawled into bed. After what might've been half an hour of trying to doze off I realized it just wasn't going to happen. I had school in the morning so I wasn't just gonna say screw it and stay up. Now at this point I forgot about ever seeing him. I remember turning on my lights then being frozen. Right then. Right there. My arm still in the air, pulling down the string for the light. That's when he actually moved. He walked up to me from his corner then simply turned off the light and moved back. To say the least I didn't stay for long before I screamed and ran out of my house. I ran to my neighbor and close friend, Jackson. No one else was home so it's not like I ditched them to die from a mysterious man. I let myself into his house, using the spare key he kept in somewhere best kept secret. I hurried to his bedroom and woke him up, hastily recounting what just happened. I suggested we call the police but he forced that idea from me, insisting it was just my imagination. It wouldn't be the first time I imagined something and overreacted. He lets me spend the night but I don't sleep, too shocked from what I saw. Skip to tomorrow and we both went back to my place. Nothing was broken, stolen, and most importantly there was no mysterious figure.

 And that was that, that's the origin of him. Now why was all of that so necessary? Because it's my everyday. Ever since then I have done nothing but repeat that day night cycle. The same thing every day with nothing new. Even posting this story is the exact same as every other day. I want to do something different, but all that can change is tiny things. Such as what order I put my shoes on or my word choice when I tell Jackson what happened. I'm stuck in this hell. I don't know why or how but it simply is. This story now is simply a counter for me. I can't check what I did the last cycle but memory serves well I guess. Entry 73.