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Description
November 30

I'm doing it tomorrow.

November 29

[Entry illegible]

November 28

I must apologize, for yesterday's outburst. I am stretched.

November 27

la la rattle rattle hey look mister theres a dripping tap in the kitchen whats that you say little boy you mean that this hasnt been in my head this has been all real all the noises that just dont stop and the Dark Man is real too? dont be stupid old man everything is in your head even i am in your head nothing you see is real so why dont you just make it go away oh i wish i could little boy but i dont know how to well its easy old man you just put a gun to your head and pull the trigger and all your screaming will be over ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

He's always there, whenever I close my eyes. Glaring at me with his eyes that lead into Hell.

November 24

He doesn't appear any more, at least not physically. I catch glimpses of him, though, when I blink; his eyes burn behind my closed lids, like stars. I'm acting stranger, too; thinking about things that I wouldn't normally think about; doing things I wouldn't normally do. How long can a man go without a decent nights sleep?

November 22

His face is a blur now. He no longer raises his arm. I am no longer surprised by his coming; and he is appearing less and less often now. To the list of eery sounds from the rest of the house, however, add that of water against rock; and the wailing of old ghosts.

November 19

Again. And again. And again. He's always there, now. Doesn't leave when I scream. Just stands there and glares and taps and sneers. I swear, though, His features have started to morph. Each passing night they grow more sinister, and inhuman. The sounds from down below are getting progressively louder too; and more constant.
I ... I must be strong willed. I must not give in. I must not [cross out] NO NO NO must not think of that.

November 17

He is driving me insane. Each night I am roused by His incessant tapping; and each night I know horror as none else have known it. The scratching and bumping and rattling and humming have gotten worse; I hired professional exterminators, to find the rodent culprits; but their searches have been unfruitful, and the source of the racket remains an enigma.

But every night.... I really can't keep this up. Either it goes; or I go.

November 15

He appears every night now, a silent sentinel against the moonlight. You would think that I would be used to him by now; but no. Whenever I wake to see him, the terror is experienced anew; and I scream, as I do, and he vanishes. It would seem that, as these visions worsen, the cacophony below does also; I can hear metal clanging against metal as cutlery and porcelain shake in the kitchen at night; and sometimes, even in the day.

Lord help me; how can I possibly find any solace in sleep, when he haunts my nightmares?

November 14

It is not a child. I am sure of it now. I snooped around the neighbourhood; there is nobody with a child within five miles of my residence, and all are too elderly or unwell to have climbed up to my second-storey window. Additionally, events have taken a disturbing twist:

Last night I encountered the phantom yet again, in his usual haunt; but this time, the moon was full, and I was able to catch sight of his features in the moonlight.

Sweet Jesu. I can barely bring myself to recall them, much less write them down. His mouth was a gash, twisted in a wicked sneer, as if to taunt me; his hair was long, and dark, and that night it was waving in the wind like snakes; but worst of all were his eyes... they were as pits of shadow, leading forever into emptyness. And they were directed into mine.

November 12

Bugger and blast it! The damned brat returned again last night, once again waking me with his tapping and leaving me sweating and panting in my bed when I expressed my surprise. When I find this devil-child, I will punish him severely.

On a curious note, the noises downstairs have been worsening nightly also, but that is understandable. It is nearly winter; and the winds are growing in strength.

November 11

Horror! Last night, I slept for the first time in ten days; and yet, when I awoke in the midst of the night to the sound of tapping, I did see a sight that shall keep me up for another ten lifetimes! I awoke, in a room flooded by moonlight, and from the window there came a tapping. I glanced casually at the offender of the noise; and to my shock, I saw the source of the noise: a silhouette stood against the window, its form blotting out the sky, hand raised to rap the glass. I screamed; and with my scream, the apparition disappeared, and I was left alone again. I did not sleep any more that night.

Looking back on what I have written thusfar, it has become clear to me that I was overreacting; this "apparition" was most likely just some wicked neighbourhood child, out to play a sick joke on this new arrival. I must be calm and collected about this; I will investigate further into this matter.

November 9

The sleeplessness is taking a turn for the worst. I haven't gotten a single decent nights worth of rest in the week that I've been here. This house is strange indeed; it is not yet fitted with electricity, so all lighting is candlelight, and must be created manually. At night, I can leave no lights on, to prevent a fire. The house is a different place in darkness. When I lie on my bed, exhausted but sleepless, I gaze into the shadows in the corner of the room; and to my abject terror, sometimes I find myself catching sight of movement in the darkness. I reassure myself with the knowledge that this is the result of hallucinations, caused by lack of rest.

The noises are more terrifying, though. At times, I hear scratching, and tapping on the walls; I can hear creaking of floorboard in the hallway outside my room; and sometimes, the sounds created by the house rhythmically swaying in the night wind are reminiscent of footsteps. There must be some large rats living in the plaster.

November 6

Didn't sleep last night. Insomnia; perhaps out of guilt? I know not. Regardless, I must banish these thoughts from my head, if I am to lead a healthy lifestyle; after all, what's done is done, and we just have to move on.

This house is old. It creaks and bumps and breathes in the cool night air. Very disconcerting. But if mother got used to it, then so can I.

November 2

I did it. It was easier than I thought it would be. I used a morphine injection, so she wouldn't feel any pain. I had my lawyer summoned, a few hours afterwards, when they found her. The inheritence is mine now. As I write this, the workmen are moving what little personal affects I had into mother's old mansion. My God! the house is large. It could easily shelter a family of a dozen, and yet she didn't even offer a room to her own son in his time of need. Well. It's mine now.

Please forgive me, mother. I wish there were some other way around this, but you left me no choice. I hope you'll be able to forgive me; it's not like I'm some cold-blooded murderer. It killed me to watch you go; it really did.

Description
November 30

I'm doing it tomorrow.

November 29

[Entry illegible]

November 28

I must apologize, for yesterday's outburst. I am stretched.

November 27

la la rattle rattle hey look mister theres a dripping tap in the kitchen whats that you say little boy you mean that this hasnt been in my head this has been all real all the noises that just dont stop and the Dark Man is real too? dont be stupid old man everything is in your head even i am in your head nothing you see is real so why dont you just make it go away oh i wish i could little boy but i dont know how to well its easy old man you just put a gun to your head and pull the trigger and all your screaming will be over ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

He's always there, whenever I close my eyes. Glaring at me with his eyes that lead into Hell.

November 24

He doesn't appear any more, at least not physically. I catch glimpses of him, though, when I blink; his eyes burn behind my closed lids, like stars. I'm acting stranger, too; thinking about things that I wouldn't normally think about; doing things I wouldn't normally do. How long can a man go without a decent nights sleep?

November 22

His face is a blur now. He no longer raises his arm. I am no longer surprised by his coming; and he is appearing less and less often now. To the list of eery sounds from the rest of the house, however, add that of water against rock; and the wailing of old ghosts.

November 19

Again. And again. And again. He's always there, now. Doesn't leave when I scream. Just stands there and glares and taps and sneers. I swear, though, His features have started to morph. Each passing night they grow more sinister, and inhuman. The sounds from down below are getting progressively louder too; and more constant.
I ... I must be strong willed. I must not give in. I must not [cross out] NO NO NO must not think of that.

November 17

He is driving me insane. Each night I am roused by His incessant tapping; and each night I know horror as none else have known it. The scratching and bumping and rattling and humming have gotten worse; I hired professional exterminators, to find the rodent culprits; but their searches have been unfruitful, and the source of the racket remains an enigma.

But every night.... I really can't keep this up. Either it goes; or I go.

November 15

He appears every night now, a silent sentinel against the moonlight. You would think that I would be used to him by now; but no. Whenever I wake to see him, the terror is experienced anew; and I scream, as I do, and he vanishes. It would seem that, as these visions worsen, the cacophony below does also; I can hear metal clanging against metal as cutlery and porcelain shake in the kitchen at night; and sometimes, even in the day.

Lord help me; how can I possibly find any solace in sleep, when he haunts my nightmares?

November 14

It is not a child. I am sure of it now. I snooped around the neighbourhood; there is nobody with a child within five miles of my residence, and all are too elderly or unwell to have climbed up to my second-storey window. Additionally, events have taken a disturbing twist:

Last night I encountered the phantom yet again, in his usual haunt; but this time, the moon was full, and I was able to catch sight of his features in the moonlight.

Sweet Jesu. I can barely bring myself to recall them, much less write them down. His mouth was a gash, twisted in a wicked sneer, as if to taunt me; his hair was long, and dark, and that night it was waving in the wind like snakes; but worst of all were his eyes... they were as pits of shadow, leading forever into emptyness. And they were directed into mine.

November 12

Bugger and blast it! The damned brat returned again last night, once again waking me with his tapping and leaving me sweating and panting in my bed when I expressed my surprise. When I find this devil-child, I will punish him severely.

On a curious note, the noises downstairs have been worsening nightly also, but that is understandable. It is nearly winter; and the winds are growing in strength.

November 11

Horror! Last night, I slept for the first time in ten days; and yet, when I awoke in the midst of the night to the sound of tapping, I did see a sight that shall keep me up for another ten lifetimes! I awoke, in a room flooded by moonlight, and from the window there came a tapping. I glanced casually at the offender of the noise; and to my shock, I saw the source of the noise: a silhouette stood against the window, its form blotting out the sky, hand raised to rap the glass. I screamed; and with my scream, the apparition disappeared, and I was left alone again. I did not sleep any more that night.

Looking back on what I have written thusfar, it has become clear to me that I was overreacting; this "apparition" was most likely just some wicked neighbourhood child, out to play a sick joke on this new arrival. I must be calm and collected about this; I will investigate further into this matter.

November 9

The sleeplessness is taking a turn for the worst. I haven't gotten a single decent nights worth of rest in the week that I've been here. This house is strange indeed; it is not yet fitted with electricity, so all lighting is candlelight, and must be created manually. At night, I can leave no lights on, to prevent a fire. The house is a different place in darkness. When I lie on my bed, exhausted but sleepless, I gaze into the shadows in the corner of the room; and to my abject terror, sometimes I find myself catching sight of movement in the darkness. I reassure myself with the knowledge that this is the result of hallucinations, caused by lack of rest.

The noises are more terrifying, though. At times, I hear scratching, and tapping on the walls; I can hear creaking of floorboard in the hallway outside my room; and sometimes, the sounds created by the house rhythmically swaying in the night wind are reminiscent of footsteps. There must be some large rats living in the plaster.

November 6

Didn't sleep last night. Insomnia; perhaps out of guilt? I know not. Regardless, I must banish these thoughts from my head, if I am to lead a healthy lifestyle; after all, what's done is done, and we just have to move on.

This house is old. It creaks and bumps and breathes in the cool night air. Very disconcerting. But if mother got used to it, then so can I.

November 2

I did it. It was easier than I thought it would be. I used a morphine injection, so she wouldn't feel any pain. I had my lawyer summoned, a few hours afterwards, when they found her. The inheritence is mine now. As I write this, the workmen are moving what little personal affects I had into mother's old mansion. My God! the house is large. It could easily shelter a family of a dozen, and yet she didn't even offer a room to her own son in his time of need. Well. It's mine now.

Please forgive me, mother. I wish there were some other way around this, but you left me no choice. I hope you'll be able to forgive me; it's not like I'm some cold-blooded murderer. It killed me to watch you go; it really did.