August 22nd
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Well, Nina found my journal. I came home from pretending to go to work and found the bedroom turned upside down. All the drawers were open and my clothes were all over the floor. My journal was laying on the bed, opened to the page that had Nina’s words scrawled on it. The letters were jagged and hard to read.

She has every right to be angry. She left the house. Went to stay with her mother I guess.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m crazy. How can someone stay sane when they don’t sleep anymore?

I haven’t seen the eyes for two nights. They’re gone. Last night I wandered around the house, pulling at my hair and stopping now and then to look out back. Nothing. No one there. No shining points in the dark.

The certainty I felt just a few day...

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