Lou’s Diary – Entry 9 (Text version)


I am sad.  The funny thing is I don’t know if I’ve been sad before.  I have been scared.  I have been angry.  I have been confused.  It seems like I’m always confused.  But I don’t know if I’ve been sad.  I do know that it doesn’t matter that I’m sad or scared or angry or confused.  How I feel or what I do doesn’t matter.  That’s the tragedy of being fictional.

Along with being sad, I’m tired.  I have a roof over my head.  I’m out of the cold.  I have enough food to last for months.  I shouldn’t be tired.  I should be rested.  If anything, I should have too much energy.  But once the sun goes down there are noises coming from the woods.  The groans and screams and growls, they’re nonstop.  But they aren’t the worst.  The worst is what I heard last night.

I gathered up everything soft in the fire tower and made myself a nice little place to sleep.  I even found three hoodies in one of the lockers. I put on all three and they keep me warm at night.  I curl up in a ball with all three hoods over my head and the draw strings pulled as tight as they will go.  It almost allows me to completely block out the darkness that surrounds me and the sounds that darkness brings.  Almost.  There’s just a sliver of creepy that leaks through my protective hoodie force field.

Last night that creepy destroyed any chance I had at falling asleep.  I had my eyes closed for less than a minute when I heard a banging.  It was coming from below the tower.  Bang. Bang. Bang.  They came one after the other.  Each one louder than the last.

Footsteps. Someone or something was climbing the steps of the fire tower.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I could hear them getting closer.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I pushed myself against the wall and kept my eye on the door.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

They were on the deck of fire tower.  They were just a few feet away from the door.  I could feel them standing there, staring at the broken door, knowing it would be so easy to kick it open and kill the girl inside, huddled in the corner, hiding behind her flimsy hoodie force field.

But they didn’t approach the door.  By the sounds of the footsteps, I could tell they turned in the other direction.  They were walking around the deck towards me.  The footsteps got softer and softer as they walked across the snow.

They stopped right next to me.  A thin layer of wood was the only thing between us.  I was pretty sure whatever made those loud banging noses walking up the stairs would have no problem busting through the wall and ripping me out of the cabin.

I slowly crawled away from the wall, but stopped when I heard a strange noise.  I turned and quieted my breathing as best I could so I could make out what the noise was.  The seconds passed and it became clear what I was hearing.  Whatever was on the deck was crying, and it sounded like a child.

It cried for hours.  I sat staring at the wall too scared to move.  Part of me knew I should go outside and make sure it wasn’t actually a child, but most of me was terrified that it was a trick to get me to come outside.

Just before the sun came up, the crying stopped.  By time the first light peaked through the bottom of the door, whatever had been crying left the deck, climbed down the stairs, and reached the ground below.

I didn’t go outside and try to catch a glimpse of it.  I didn’t have to.  I didn’t want to. I knew what it was.

It was the Gore.

2 thoughts on “Lou’s Diary – Entry 9 (Text version)

  1. Nice! I’m hooked. Well done.

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