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the uninspired diary of alexandra anne morlown
stories of a nineteen year old art student living on her own in a strange town. what the hell could go wrong?
dear diary--

it is about 3 AM as i write this. i'm too scared to go back to sleep, to be honest.
i'm not usually one to get so worked up, but... ********.

i don't even know how to explain it. it was fine. i hardly even knew i was dreaming, it was that normal, and then...

the floors began to buckle and warp beneath me, and i heard a little kid-- almost like mel, it sounded just like her voice, when she was little-- call my name.

the floor gaped open, heat and hellfire and brimstone, and a little girl rose out, sweet smile on her decaying, maggot-infested face.

i tried to scream, tried to wake up, but i was stuck in this dream.

"alexandra" she said, i remember it clear as ******** day, drawing out every syllable. "don't you remember me?"

she had a hood on her head, and she drew it off now. her hair was dark and short and patchy, with bits of skull and brains sticking out near hair bows. "you killed me, alexandra."

i woke up, screaming and shouting and crying and shaking.
i can't go back to sleep. i don't want to go back to sleep.
i'm so tired.

i feel like some one is watching me.


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