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12:41 a.m. - January 13, 2004
I don't know what's wrong tonight. Whistled for the neighbor's dog to ward off the bogeyman and remembered it's cold out and she's inside where she belongs. Thinking about the things he did, about the blue and white shag carpet on his bedroom floor. I remember once I was standing in his room and only had shorts on and was crying. What did he feel doing these things?

I remember a lot of things.

You ever feel youíre going crazy? You wouldnít unless you were. Itís a numbing in your brain the same way sucking on a large ice cube freezes your mouth. You know itís there but it doesnít obey, itís off doing its own thing and you canít figure out where the ice cube came from, how long itís been there. You feel helpless and disgusting and small and pathetic but it grows on you, you become used to feeling that way until itís normalized and thatís the way it goes.

I know there is no literal bogeyman looking in my windows. I know he doesnít slither out from the walls when I turn off the lights. I know he isnít on the other side of the locked door. I know this. But when it is dead silent inside and my door moves slightly enough for the handle to strike the casing and makes an audible click it is real, it doesnít matter that I know the heater emits air currents. Itís the bogeyman at my door, in my head, all around.


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