~January 5~
Dear Diary,
I saw her again. It's 3:20 am and I saw that lady with the scarlett eyes and lips. She was staring at me, watching every so closely I thought I could feel her breathing on my neck. But she wasn't breathing at all, she didn't move. As I woke up, she noticed she had been spoted, for her eyes grew wide and a devious smile spread upon her face.Her hair hung down on her face, only showing one of her eyes and her hands were the creepiest thing I have ever saw in my life! Four fingers (not five!) stretched out across and touched my chest, her finger nails looking as if they were a foot long and were painted pitch black. I wanted to scream, but it was is if she was holding my scream in my chest. My mouth was opened wide, with no words or sounds coming out. Her smile grew smaller, only by a little to show a large grin in it's place. I turned my head slowly to watch her drift backwards (without taking her eyes off of me) and fade into the wall. I can still feel her eyes watching me as I write this.
The second I found some strength,I ran into my parents room, crying and telling them everything. I let my mother craddle me in her arms as father went to check my bedroom, outside, all over the house. He found nothing but the cold and a few paw prints in the snow. That was weird though, because we don't have a dog, and neither does anyone else on our street;they like it quiet. Anyway, my parents blew it off, saying I was crazy and sent me back to my room.
So here I am sitting in my room, writing in my journal, telling this all to you now.
Maybe I am going crazy,
Cнαrℓσттɛ
~January 11~
Dear Diary,
I checked out my school library today, and the amount of books on their shelves surprised me! Walls full of books that went on for miles, and I had one full period to explore. I went straight to the town's history section and started my research. This house, built in 1689 by Henry J. Karton for his mistress. Before that, it was a Native American Grave yard holding 100's of Native American bodies. I wanted to stop reading there, but I pushed myself to continue. Henry took pride in his family's money and made sure his mistress, Joanna Kent, got only the best. Here is the best part: she was with child at the time, his child. One night, Joanna was sitting my the fireplace when suddenly she felt her water break and was suddenly gasping for air. She knew she wouldn't make it to the medical center, so Henry called in a doctor for her where she went into her favorite room in the house. She gave birth to a healthy little boy named Jacob. Want to guess where she gave birth to him? My bedroom. Unfortunately, Joanna died in child birth, and Henry was devistated. He promised to her as she slipped away that he would take care of their son. He kept that promise until about 1710 when Jacob was about 21. Jacob had been known as the "bad boy" of the town and was caught stealing from the local bank. He was hung infront of the entire town, for this wasn't the first time he had tried stealing. Henry, old now was deeply depressed having gone through 2 deaths. He died a broken heart 3 days later.
If that wasn't scary enough, here is another story: In the 1800's there was a rich family living in the house. They owned many slaves at the time, but only brought 3 with them to their vacation house (a.k.a. my house). They were their most trusted worthy slaves, but it was to bad the wife didn't know about the affair her husband was having with one of the slaves. The summer they were living there, the one female slave gave birth to her two twins, both half black and half white. The slaveowner's wife still hadn't a clue that it was her husband's children also. As the years gone by, they continued moving back and forth between the two houses and one day when they were in their vacation home, a fire had started in the kitchen. Though the slaves tried to put it out, one of twins died along with one of the slaveowner's white son. Devistated, his mother blamed the slave it was her fault her son had died. That's when the truth slipped out, and the slaveowner's wife knew about the hidden affair. She was an emotional wreak by now, and ended up killing her husband and his mistress that night. She spent the rest of her life in jail.
And the last story, or the one I found the most interesting: It was 1929, and the stockmarket crashed. A young man by the name of Mikes was a young adult at the time. His girlfriend was weathly at the time, and still was through out the Great Depression. He was living in my house at the time right now, and was extremely effected by the crash. He sold everything, the house looking plain and bare besides a couch where he slept and a table with a few chairs surrounding it. He got a job, but it didn't pay much and ended up losing it after about 2 months. He went to his girlfriend now, begging for money because now he despritly needed it. Guess what? His parent's sent his little brother to live with him now, about 9 years old because they were in a more difficult situation. Now, poor William Mikes (hense the nickname Mikes) had two lives on his hands. But his girlfriend turned him down, and shattered his heart to peices. Apparently, he wasn't rich enough for her tastes and her parents had promised her off to a more wealthy business owner. Mikes walked back home to his little brother who was climbing the large tree in the backyard. Mikes called for him to get down and eat some of the stale bread he was able to steal, and his little brother, Joey, slipped and fell to his death. Mikes was unable to live with himself from that moment on,and stopped looking for work, leaving his house, etc. Three weeks after, his neighbors found him starved to death and laying on his couch.
Those stories creep me out, and there were plenty more. But, those stories stuck out to me, and I don't know why. Did I see Joey in the backyard that day? Maybe. Is the the slaveowner's perfume I was smelling in the kitchen? It's possible. Do I keep seeing Joanna in my bedroom? No...I know that isn't true for she was beautiful in a happy, sunshining way. The lady in my bedroom is beautiful by fear and devilish ways.I haven't the clue what is real or not anymore, and I can not stand living in the house anymore. I saw nothing about the demon lady in the black and red dress though, and I am a little disappointed. Maybe next time I will.
Love,
Cнαrℓσттɛ
That was a really long post, sorry. It gives you something to read anyway. I thought I should let you read some of the house's past. Tell me how you think please!
Dear Diary,
I saw her again. It's 3:20 am and I saw that lady with the scarlett eyes and lips. She was staring at me, watching every so closely I thought I could feel her breathing on my neck. But she wasn't breathing at all, she didn't move. As I woke up, she noticed she had been spoted, for her eyes grew wide and a devious smile spread upon her face.Her hair hung down on her face, only showing one of her eyes and her hands were the creepiest thing I have ever saw in my life! Four fingers (not five!) stretched out across and touched my chest, her finger nails looking as if they were a foot long and were painted pitch black. I wanted to scream, but it was is if she was holding my scream in my chest. My mouth was opened wide, with no words or sounds coming out. Her smile grew smaller, only by a little to show a large grin in it's place. I turned my head slowly to watch her drift backwards (without taking her eyes off of me) and fade into the wall. I can still feel her eyes watching me as I write this.
The second I found some strength,I ran into my parents room, crying and telling them everything. I let my mother craddle me in her arms as father went to check my bedroom, outside, all over the house. He found nothing but the cold and a few paw prints in the snow. That was weird though, because we don't have a dog, and neither does anyone else on our street;they like it quiet. Anyway, my parents blew it off, saying I was crazy and sent me back to my room.
So here I am sitting in my room, writing in my journal, telling this all to you now.
Maybe I am going crazy,
Cнαrℓσттɛ
~January 11~
Dear Diary,
I checked out my school library today, and the amount of books on their shelves surprised me! Walls full of books that went on for miles, and I had one full period to explore. I went straight to the town's history section and started my research. This house, built in 1689 by Henry J. Karton for his mistress. Before that, it was a Native American Grave yard holding 100's of Native American bodies. I wanted to stop reading there, but I pushed myself to continue. Henry took pride in his family's money and made sure his mistress, Joanna Kent, got only the best. Here is the best part: she was with child at the time, his child. One night, Joanna was sitting my the fireplace when suddenly she felt her water break and was suddenly gasping for air. She knew she wouldn't make it to the medical center, so Henry called in a doctor for her where she went into her favorite room in the house. She gave birth to a healthy little boy named Jacob. Want to guess where she gave birth to him? My bedroom. Unfortunately, Joanna died in child birth, and Henry was devistated. He promised to her as she slipped away that he would take care of their son. He kept that promise until about 1710 when Jacob was about 21. Jacob had been known as the "bad boy" of the town and was caught stealing from the local bank. He was hung infront of the entire town, for this wasn't the first time he had tried stealing. Henry, old now was deeply depressed having gone through 2 deaths. He died a broken heart 3 days later.
If that wasn't scary enough, here is another story: In the 1800's there was a rich family living in the house. They owned many slaves at the time, but only brought 3 with them to their vacation house (a.k.a. my house). They were their most trusted worthy slaves, but it was to bad the wife didn't know about the affair her husband was having with one of the slaves. The summer they were living there, the one female slave gave birth to her two twins, both half black and half white. The slaveowner's wife still hadn't a clue that it was her husband's children also. As the years gone by, they continued moving back and forth between the two houses and one day when they were in their vacation home, a fire had started in the kitchen. Though the slaves tried to put it out, one of twins died along with one of the slaveowner's white son. Devistated, his mother blamed the slave it was her fault her son had died. That's when the truth slipped out, and the slaveowner's wife knew about the hidden affair. She was an emotional wreak by now, and ended up killing her husband and his mistress that night. She spent the rest of her life in jail.
And the last story, or the one I found the most interesting: It was 1929, and the stockmarket crashed. A young man by the name of Mikes was a young adult at the time. His girlfriend was weathly at the time, and still was through out the Great Depression. He was living in my house at the time right now, and was extremely effected by the crash. He sold everything, the house looking plain and bare besides a couch where he slept and a table with a few chairs surrounding it. He got a job, but it didn't pay much and ended up losing it after about 2 months. He went to his girlfriend now, begging for money because now he despritly needed it. Guess what? His parent's sent his little brother to live with him now, about 9 years old because they were in a more difficult situation. Now, poor William Mikes (hense the nickname Mikes) had two lives on his hands. But his girlfriend turned him down, and shattered his heart to peices. Apparently, he wasn't rich enough for her tastes and her parents had promised her off to a more wealthy business owner. Mikes walked back home to his little brother who was climbing the large tree in the backyard. Mikes called for him to get down and eat some of the stale bread he was able to steal, and his little brother, Joey, slipped and fell to his death. Mikes was unable to live with himself from that moment on,and stopped looking for work, leaving his house, etc. Three weeks after, his neighbors found him starved to death and laying on his couch.
Those stories creep me out, and there were plenty more. But, those stories stuck out to me, and I don't know why. Did I see Joey in the backyard that day? Maybe. Is the the slaveowner's perfume I was smelling in the kitchen? It's possible. Do I keep seeing Joanna in my bedroom? No...I know that isn't true for she was beautiful in a happy, sunshining way. The lady in my bedroom is beautiful by fear and devilish ways.I haven't the clue what is real or not anymore, and I can not stand living in the house anymore. I saw nothing about the demon lady in the black and red dress though, and I am a little disappointed. Maybe next time I will.
Love,
Cнαrℓσттɛ
That was a really long post, sorry. It gives you something to read anyway. I thought I should let you read some of the house's past. Tell me how you think please!
- 9/4/13
you know, finding out a house's past? Can't wait to continue.
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