Late Night Journal

12.30 am

It is very late and in most cases a person should be asleep at this time, unless their work involves them to stay awake at these ungodly hours or if they believe they are energetic enough to party this late. Either way, my reason is neither.

I am awake because it seems like some weird sort of insomnia has held my body as a paralytic host. It’s not like I don’t feel sleepy but every time I lay down on my bed and try to go to sleep I cannot manage the simple enough task.

At those moments, I do what most people in that situation do; twist and turn on the little piece of cotton filled fluff I call a mattress and make myself believe that probably changing the angle of curvature of my legs or arms would make my body comfortable enough to enter into a voluntarily induced, vulnerable state of temporary coma which we so casually call sleep.

I believe writing about it might make me tired enough to fall in that deep slumber. Who knows maybe it works; maybe it doesn’t.


1.25 am

I twisted and turned a little more and then decided to watch an episode of Two and Half Men. Maybe the boring jokes that the show has resorted to after kicking out Charlie Sheen would lull me to sleep.

No progress. Oh! The jokes were boring, don’t get me wrong; but I still cannot fall asleep.

Maybe if I listen to some soothing music. That could help.


1.58 am

Bad move listening to soothing music.

Why does soothing music always have water flowing through it? Now I have to get out of the comfort of my bed and go to the toilet across the hall. This sucks! No more soothing music when I come back.

On second though, maybe I don’t need to go.

Okay, I do. It’s just that I am so comfortably tucked in my bed that it all seems like a huge task. My body really wants to torment me today.


2.22 am

So, I was at the washroom when I realized that I can try out that Bloody Mary thing people keep talking about.

Apparently, if you say “Bloody Mary” in your bathroom mirror five times between midnight and 4 am, some demon is supposed to attack you or something.

Well, I am still writing this, so you can be sure that nothing like that has happened. Bunch of fools who in believe in that, I swear.

This gives me a great idea. Maybe I can read some stories in Creepy Pasta. That would probably scare me to sleep.


3.05 am

Alright, it was a bad move to read Creepypasta.

There is some utterly crazy stuff out there. Don’t look at it.

Although, there was this one piece which warned me not to read if it was night time. Who cares? I survived Bloody Mary, I could survive that.

It was a long post but here is what it said in the beggining

If you are reading this, please make sure it is day time. I am warning you. This is not one of those internet stories you read and forget. I am very serious.

If you read this at night, things of inexplicable nature will happen to you. Especially the incantation at the end of the story.

Yes, I am talking to you. The stranger reading this at 3.00 am in the night.

I will agree the 3 am thing really got to me, but they could easily have tracked the time in my region from my IP address. A clever move nonetheless. (I have left the incantation out for the weak-hearted people out there)


3.15 am

Still no sign of sleep but things are getting a little weird. My room suddenly became cold. It’s very weird. The thermostat still shows ambient temperature. Maybe the whole sleep deprived state is making me ill. I have to check it out.


3.18 am

I am fine. No need to worry but I still feel cold.

And I really feel like slitting my wrist open right now.

Whoa! Where did that come from? I guess, it must be the late night, sleep deprived state of mine. I will let it be. Would be humorous when I read it later.


3.23 am

I just noticed that cold breeze seems to be coming from behind me.

Like someone is breathing down my neck. It is making goosebumps rise. It’s not funny anymore. I look at myself in the mirror right beside my work table. I can see that I am really tired. Probably if I just go—

I BLINKED! I mean, my reflection. I just saw it blink. This is not a joke. I just saw my reflection blink at me! I don’t know what is wrong. I have to check it out.


3.26 am

Alright. I am not sure what is happening anymore.

I am not dreaming this shit up! As I kept looking at my reflection, it started to move towards me. I swear it was moving when I was standing still. I thought it would—I would—step out of the mirror any moment.

I punched the mirror and it has shattered into pieces. There is blood flowing down my hand but I am compelled to write this.

Now, all I have to do is pick up a piece of glass and slit my wrist.

No! No! I didn’t mean to write that. I can’t even remove it now. I tried but I keep writing it again.

I am forcing myself to stop now and bandage my hand.


3.51 am

This is probably the last update before I go to sleep.

I have patched up my hand and am writing this on my phone since I dare not go to my work desk anymore. My keyboard is all bloody. Will have to clean it up in the morning

Before that I am going to make him take that glass and cut himself just like I did 30 years ago. This man is going to suffer and if you are reading this, you are going to suffer as well!!

I don’t know what is happening. I can feel a strange force driving me to do stuff.

Carcera Kocutt Dusphile

I hope you didn’t read that!

That was the incantation from the story.

Please, if you have read it. Hide Now! I am serious. Whatever it is, is already going to make me kill myself. Please save yourself.

I don’t want to die. Please, send help at this address as quickly as you can. This is my address.

171 North Qdfvc cbvbn mvb


4.00 am

He is dead. And you are next!

17 thoughts on “Late Night Journal

  1. Oh, this was amazing. i am definitely glad that I read it in a well-lit room in the middle of the afternoon, but I will confess that it was still creepy that I read it at exactly 3:00. Awesome! It reminded me of a story I once was stupid enough to read when I was all alone. It was “Don’t Look Behind You” by Frederick Brown in an Alfred Hitchcock collection. The premise was that it was written on a bet that someone that could not warn a murder victim before hand; the writer ends up telling the reader that he is the one who made the bet, and that since he works at the printing company, yours is the only copy of the book with THIS story, so. “Don’t look behind you” because it will be easier that way. It was insanely creepy.

    Liked by 1 person

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