A Loner's Nightmare


[ENTRY 71..✍️]


Ever since I've resettled myself in my room after cleaning the chaos the storm created, my older sister has been making a habit of staying with me because there's a signal up here no matter how shitty. She sleeps here, she eats here, she lounges here…

Despite EVERYTHING I've done to scare her away from stepping foot in my territory, she still manages to flit her way back so long as I am present because she refuses to remain alone in the walls of my room anymore after the pranks I've pulled on her. Well, to be fair, she doesn't know they're just pranks. And she also doesn't know I was behind the whole phantom orchestration because revealing it would defeat the purpose of making her believe the upper floor is actively haunted, which should've driven her away from coming back here ever again—which was exactly the purpose of my plan. But who would've thought the bitch is a cockroach. No matter how much you parry it away, it still finds a way to come flying back as if it's a goddamn butterfly.

God, just when will everything go back to NORMAL? I am so sick of having my privacy invaded. She sleeps on my bed and I can't roll around like a free person. She's literally sleeping beside me right now and several times have I thought of kicking her but my using her power bank stops me so. And she does this thing with her feet that absolutely drives me insane! She keeps rocking it back and forth in a repetitive manner—a habit that brings comfort in one's position, I believe, since I catch myself doing it sometimes, too, but definitely not as much as her! She—she does it ALL THE TIME and it dreadfully flares up the highest intensity of my annoyance when I feel it within the range of my sensibility, like when the bed moves with that atrocious, shaky rhythm.. And most especially when it touches my skin. GOD. It's so disgusting. This habit of hers truly disturbs every peace and calm in my system, easily making its addition to the list of my pet peeves.

Enduring her presence when I want my solitude just creates a tempest within me that threatens to explode. My chest tightens, my mind in a turmoil, breathing becomes uneasy… All of this in an all consumed frustration.

One time, I couldn't take it anymore. She wasn't doing anything, she was just sleeping, but the limited motion I could make with my body with her on the same bed created an indescribable anguish within me. I was suddenly filled with anger. Irrational anger from this little freedom I have which she blatantly took from me. Perhaps I was just overreacting but I'm not kidding when I say I had trouble breathing. I had to go. I needed air. In the MIDDLE of the FUCKING NIGHT. And so I got up, but she heard the noise and my departing footsteps—we've already established she couldn't stay in my room alone—so she immediately started at once and exited, too. She's like a fucking dog who keeps following me around.

I hate stressing this way. Though my expression is impassive, I feel the pull of the muscles behind my forehead. Bitch is practically giving me wrinkles. And I don't want to have wrinkles. I take pride in my smooth forehead that even when I arch my eyebrows, the skin only shows minimal folds.

I wish a ghost truly surfaces in my room even with me around. I've been thinking of painting Valak and hanging it on the wall so the first thing anyone sees when they open my door is that hideous bitch of a nun.

[Originally written: December 31, 2021]