90 Days of Dread

Day 1:

I signed the contract today. Three months, they said. Three months, and I’ll be able to pay off my debt, with money to spare. It almost feels too good to be true. I mean, how hard could it be, staying put for 90 days? Although I’m sure it’ll be boring—there is nothing else here. Except for a small mattress in the corner, some papers and a pen, and a mirror on the wall, the entire room is empty. No windows. Just endless white. It’s so bright, it almost hurts to look at.

But I can get through this. It’s only 90 days. I’ve survived worse.

Day 3:

Judging by the number of meals I’ve had, I think it’s day 3. There is no other way to tell the time in here. They slide the tray in three times a day—two pieces of bread and a water bottle. Bland as hell. You’d think they would change things up in between meals, but no. Just bread and water. Every. Single. Time.

Day 7:

I’m so bored! There’s nothing to do in here. I tried exercising today. Thought it might help time move faster. Safe to say that it didn’t help at all. It feels like time has come to a halt.

The meals still keep coming like always—bread and water, bread and water. It’s like I’m stuck in a loop.

Day 17:

Something doesn’t feel right. Call me crazy, but I keep getting this weird feeling that something’s watching me. That I’m not… alone. I know it’s stupid of me to think that, since there’s nothing but white walls… and silence in here. It’s probably just my brain playing tricks on me.

Maybe that’s the point of this whole experiment—to see how long it takes for someone to go insane in complete isolation.

Day 39??:

I think it’s day 39? Or maybe 40? I don’t know anymore. I lost count some time ago. Ever since I started seeing my shadow move… on its own. I swear I’m not making this up. I hear whispers, as if they are coming from the walls, or maybe it’s all in my head. I–I’m not sure. I look at myself in the mirror, but it doesn’t reflect me anymore. It shows someone that looks just like me but is definitely not me. What the hell is happening to me?

Day ???:

I haven’t slept… in God knows how long. My body aches, my head is spinning, and I can feel my sanity slipping away. The walls… they’re sneering at me. I swear I hear them mocking me. But I’m sure that’s just me hallucinating because of my lack of sleep.

But that thing… that’s real. I felt its presence a few days after I came here, and it has only grown stronger since then. It follows me… watches me… waits for me. It’s hiding… behind the walls, behind the mirror, in my shadows. The mirror… I saw it again. Something creeping behind me, the sound of derision ringing in my head. I couldn’t take it any more and smashed the mirror. The glass shattered but the laughter didn’t stop.

Can’t eat. Can’t sleep. Can’t think straight. I’m just so tired. I don’t know what’s real anymore. All I know is that it’s here. And it’s toying with me.

Day ???:

I’m tired. I can’t fight it anymore. Whatever it is, it’s won. I’m so tired of being chased, of hearing those damn whispers, of seeing the shadows. I just can’t do it. But… I won’t let it take me. Not like this.

There’s a shard of glass from the mirror, the one I broke. I’ll use it. Either that thing takes my life… or I end it myself. Either way, this is the last entry.

But if someone ever reads this—take my warning: stay out!