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The Diary of James Abrem

By Ezra Finn, Virginia State University



Photo 6635851 © Tombaky | Dreamstime.com



October 12, 2017. So I’ve decided to start keeping a diary, like Dr, Luraine suggested. The therapy is going well, but I’m still scared that Daphne, my wife, will leave me. We’ve been going through a rough patch, and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know what I would do without her.


October 14, 2017. Things seem normal today, we didn’t go to therapy, but Daphne seemed more alive and happy than she has been in the last few months. I’m suspicious of what brought this on but I’m just going to enjoy pretending that our problems don’t exist for today.


October 23, 2017. It’s over. She didn’t say it to me, but I know it’s true. I saw her with another man, I could see it in the way that he held her, that she has moved on from me and she is biding her time with me. Why doesn’t she just go? What’s keeping her here? Is it because I’m weak?


October 26, 2017. I haven’t been able to sleep since I’ve learned of Daphne's affair. I haven’t told her I know. I don’t even know what I would say. We still haven’t been to therapy since the 12th, and she’s still going through the motions of loving me, but I don’t think I can take it any more. It feels like she’s digging her fingers into my mind and controlling my brain.


October 27, 2017. I had a strange dream last night, I was walking along a street, in a town I don’t know, but it felt like home. I saw a cloud of fog in the distance, the fog seemed to be erupting from the ground in the distance. And despite how far the fog was from the town, I knew it would be there soon.


October 27, 2017. I had to end it. I couldn’t stand looking at her while knowing what she was doing. Loving her and acting normal while I knew she was lying to me. I ended it when she got home from work. I can barely remember what happened. She begged me to stop and to listen to her. I couldn’t bring myself to forgive her. Her eyes cried empty tears as I squeezed the life out of her. As her pulse faded away, so did the seething anger that encapsulated my mind.


November 1, 2017. I ate her. Don’t really remember it, but I know that I did it. It felt like a dream as it was happening. I didn't think it was real until I was up next to her mangled and dismembered body. I felt like I wanted to scream and cry, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything. I looked through her torn flesh, at her ribs, where I thought her heart was. I’m sure I heard it beat.


November 5, 2017. I haven’t slept in days. Every time I close my eyes I see the fog from my dreams in the horizon, edging closer. It feels like it's chasing me, like it's going to swallow me. It gets closer every time I blink. It's dense and thick, like a wall of smoke more than just a low hanging cloud. Even so, I can tell that it hides something too horrendous to be seen. It’s invading my mind, driving me closer to

madness as time goes on.


November 10, 2017. I’ve decided I need to leave. I can't stand it here, the rotting of my wife's corpse, spreading through the air, and the fog, slowly creeping from my mind to reality. It's driving me insane. I've begun to see the fog in the distance when I look out of my windows. It almost blends in with the horizon. But I can tell that it’s there, slowly creeping closer.


November 14, 2017. I’ve decided to fly to a town in New York called Perry. It’s very old and no one could know who I was. I packed everything I need in a small backpack. I plan to burn down the apartment and try to pass off Daphne's death as collateral in the fire, and escape the scene before the fire is noticed and reported. I feel now as though I’m running from this fog, it’s no longer creeping towards me. It’s spreading quickly, as if it were spilled water on a countertop. It now rushes at me with leaps and bounds, swallowing the horizon, chasing me limitlessly.


November 15, 2017. I see the fog chasing me, in the sky, it follows me. In the plane I can see it. It follows closely to the plane, and I can see what is in the fog. I can see shapes moving, slithering while seemingly in the air, running where no ground was, flailing, and contorting in ways that aren’t possible. Monsters. I can’t breathe. When a flight attendant comes to see what is wrong, I point to the window, but the fog is gone. In fact, there is not a cloud in the night sky.


November 17, 2017. I made it to Perry with no real issues. The fog still haunts my dreams, but I haven’t seen it on the horizon or in my windows like on the plane. I can’t tell what’s real anymore, not after what happened on that plane. It feels like my brain is trapped in a murkiness that makes it hard to believe what I’m doing is real. I’ve been staying away from people so I don’t draw attention to myself. I bought an old house near the outskirts of town, to stay low profile.


November 20, 2017. There are really bad winds right now. It looks like there is going to be a really bad storm. But it’s weirdly warm here for the time of year. I feel uneasy, the fog has been absent from my dreams for a few days now. I don’t know what this means, but I don’t think that this bodes well.


November 20, 2017. It’s storming really badly, a full downpour. Its pitch black out, even the flood lights were suffocated out by the darkness that the rain brought. The only thing that the darkness yielded to were the rays of lightning that illuminated the sky for just a second, revealing a quickly fading image of the neighborhood.


November 24, 2017. The rain stopped sometime last night. I woke up to an eerie silence filling the space of my bedroom. I just stayed in my bed, not daring to move. I knew that it was here, but I didn’t want to believe that I couldn’t escape. I mustered all my strength and rolled over to my side to peek out the window. The rain had left the ground moist and muddy. Trees leaves held low, under the weight of the water that clung to them. And a thin layer of fog seeped throughout the town, encasing everything in the dreary color of gray. The early gloom of the moon waded through the murkiness of the fog, encapsulating me in its inescapable eyesight. It sees my every move.


November 25, 2017. The fog hasn't left since yesterday, and I can’t shake the feeling of dread that the fog has brought with it. Every time I peer out into the fog, I see things moving into the distance. They bend and contort but whenever they move through the fog to me, I see people. I’m terrified to go outside. I don’t leave the house anymore, but I’m running out of food. The fog doesn’t look to be leaving anytime soon, but I’m running out of food, so I’ll have to leave sometime. Every time I get close to the door, it feels like I’m suffocating.


November 28, 2017. The fog is getting thicker, and things are moving a lot faster than before in the fog. Circling me, and watching me. I have to leave today, I have to go find more food, or I’ll starve to death, but every time I open the door I feel paralyzed as the fog creeps onto my face, slowly invading my mind.


November 28, 2017. I just got back from getting more food and supplies. The fog was so dense that I could barely see 5 feet in front of me. The fog has taken over the town, staining everything in its dread. When I was out getting food, I saw the people of the town, but they were different. I can’t explain it but I could tell that they weren’t human. It was in the way their arms hung listlessly at their sides, seemingly too long for their bodies. The way their gestures were off, and their voices seemed to not match their expressions. It’s the fog. The fog has gotten to them. They were human just a week ago, they were just normal. And the things in the fog, they’re getting closer but they’re still encased in the thick of the fog. I fear that soon my time will come.


December 1, 2017. I haven’t slept since I left for the store. I blacked out all my windows and I’ve begun to dig into my basement. I need to escape without touching the fog again. I know now that the fog is here for me. This morning I was scared by a loud banging on the exterior doors to my house and my windows rattling. There was a loud screech that filled the air and rang out for what felt like eternity. I screamed and begged for them to stop and they did. But I know that my time here is limited. I have to escape.


December 2, 2017. The time draws near, I thought I could escape but I know I can’t get away now. As I was digging I felt a cold presence behind me and when I turned around I saw the fog slowly seeping into my basement, crawling down the steps and leaching to the floor. It’s only a matter of time.


December 3, 2017. Final entry. I couldn’t handle it. The fog slowly invaded my home. Invading my mind and crushing me from the inside. I know what I have to do. I know that it’s something that I was dreading, but I can’t escape any other way. Maybe after my death I can escape the fog, but not in this lifetime.




About the Author

Ezra Finn, Virginia State University


Ezra Finn, a Sophomore at VSU and aspiring writer at just twenty years old, delves into the realms of horror and fantasy with an unparalleled imagination. Crafting chilling tales that linger in the mind long after the last page is turned, Finn's writing transports readers to worlds of both terror and wonder.


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