The Wailing (part 1)

I am a 25 year old woman named Donna, still living at home with my mother. I wish to be living on my own already, but the only way I would be able to afford rent anywhere would be to get multiple roommates, which I am opposed to. I would hate sharing my living space with strangers. I would also be opposed to living alone, because I hate being alone in the house. Whenever I am alone, I begin to feel very paranoid. I almost always feel like I'm being watched by something unseen, or that I'm not alone in the house. I usually tend to lock myself in my bedroom whenever mother leaves for whatever reason, always checking the door knob on my bedroom door almost a dozen times to make sure it's locked. I usually go with my mother whenever she leaves the house, but sometimes when she wants her space, or if I feel too tired, I regrettably stay home. The longer I'm alone the more I start to hear or imagine things. Like a strange woman peeking only half her face from around the corner in my room staring at me, unblinking. Or a strange voice softly calling my name from my empty dark bathroom. These ideas are always just in my imagination, up until recently. 

I love spending time with my mother though. Right outside my town is a small estuary park, where we go together to feed the ducks and other waterfowl. This is my favorite activity to do with her, it's so peaceful and calming. I wish I could feel the feeling of peace of mind on a regular basis, but sadly the feeling I typically encounter is stress. That feeling only amplified when mother broke the news that she is going on a short, out of state trip with some of her friends from work. My mother works in real estate, she makes a decent amount of money to support us. I couldn't say anything. I just sat at the dining table, with my head staring down. But my mom knew I was distressed. 

Mother: 

“Don it's only for a couple weeks, ya know you're 25 years old now you have to be able to be a couple weeks by yourself right? Ya know one day you're gonna wanna move out, get your own place, meet a guy, have kids.” 

“But I won't be alone because I'll be living with my boyfriend or husband…”

Mother: “Look, it's two weeks,  you can call me and check in with me, you can even call Jeremy and have him come visit!” 

Jeremy is my cousin, and only family member who lives not too terribly far from me. I don't like being around him though, he makes me feel… off.

Mother: “If you dont wanna call him I don't know what to tell you Don, I just need you to be an adult for me these couple weeks, please? What could be a good idea is keeping a daily journal or diary. It could be in a way like keeping yourself company. Like talking to yourself about how your day was, so you know, you don't have to blow up my phone the whole time I'm gone?  Maybe you'll feel less lonely, it's worth a shot. It's always good to get your thoughts out of your head in some way.” 

I obliged to the idea. I didn't know if I agreed on whether or not it would help, but it didn't sound like a bad idea either. I've heard of people using journals as a way to settle their thoughts, get things off their chest in a way. I've even heard of people writing letters of anger or hate toward someone who has done them wrong, but instead of giving the letter to that person they burn it or let it fly away in the wind.

My mother was getting ready to leave for her trip to Miami, I also was helping her pack her suitcase and made sure multiple times she didn't forget anything. She even got annoyed with me about how many times I asked her. I guess it's the thought that counts. One of her friends that Ive known for a while, Reeda, picked up my mom from our house to drive her to the airport. I walked outside with my mother to our street where Reeda was waiting in her car. She smiled at me and said “Hi” and “How good it is to see me,” to which I said “Hi” back. I helped my mother put her luggage in Reeda’s trunk. My mother turned to me before she got in the car and gave me a kiss on the forehead. 

Mother: “Don’t worry Don, please. Just relax and enjoy some alone time alright? I'll call and check in with you, but please don't blow up my phone, okay?” 

I didn't say much in response, I just nodded and told her I loved her. My mother got in the car with Reeda, and they slowly drove off. I said “Bye mom I love you” as the car began to drive off. Then I said it again when the car reached the end of our street, then once more when I couldn't see the car anymore. I said it out loud as if she could hear me, but I knew she couldn't. I stood there looking at our street for about thirty minutes, staring at the roundabout in the middle of our street and then the road that led down to the end of our neighborhood street and around the corner to the main road. Maybe thinking there was a slight chance she would turn back, maybe forgetting something, or deciding to cancel the trip, but I was clearly out of luck. I walked back to my house feeling lonely with that familiar sting of anxiety and fear starting to creep up on me. I decided to begin my first journal. 

August, 18/ 2022. 

This is my first journal entry and my first day being alone since my mother left for her trip to Miami. I stood in my empty home. My house has a quite large interior, there's a large den with a TV and couch when you first enter through the front door. Then there's a hallway that leads to the dining room. The dining room connects to the kitchen where our dinner table is. My room is down the hall and located right under the attic floor. I got such an uneasy feeling just staring at my empty house. I felt like the walls and ceiling were slowly closing in on me. Sometimes I get such a paranoid feeling being alone in my house that it almost feels as if my house is alive itself, kind of watching me. I just ran to the kitchen to fill up my water jug and ran to my room and closed the door and locked it. I'll most likely stay here the rest of the day, even though it's only 11 in the morning. 

August, 19/ 2022.

I stayed in my room the entire day yesterday. I was able to sleep throughout most of the day. I woke up this morning with a text from my mother letting me know she arrived safely, with a selfie with her, Reeda, and a couple of her other friends at the Miami airport. At this point the feeling of hunger and thirst overpowered my feeling of dread and I slowly made my way out of my room and to the kitchen to make myself something for breakfast. All I had was a bagel. I wasn't in the kitchen long before the feeling of dread and that I'm being watched slowly began to overpower me. It was only 10 am but I rushed back to my room to stay there the rest of the day. I only left my room to run to the bathroom and back, and I mean I ran. I feel like such a child. Maybe this is why I have no friends. People must find me weird or immature. But I'll do anything to avoid these awful feelings in my head. My mom didn't call me or text me again the whole day. I wanted to call her but I felt guilty. Maybe she’ll call me again tomorrow. Nothing bad could have possibly happened to her. I love my mother. I love her. I love her more than anything in the world. I love her. Love love love love. 

August, 21/ 2022

I've lived in my room for 2 days. I've only ever left to get food from the kitchen and run straight back, or run to the bathroom. My mom hasn't called or texted me for 2 days. But she posted photos of herself on her social media. Why would she post on her Instagram but not call me? I'm worried someone else may have her phone and is using it. I have no idea where she is, someone could easily be using her phone to post a few day old pictures of her so no one suspects anything. Because why wouldn't she call me? I feel so nauseous because of this. I want to maybe call the police and report her missing person, even if there's a chance it may not be true. But they'll probably think I'm crazy.  I left the fridge open all night the previous night because I was in such a hurry to make it back to my room. All the food is probably spoiled now. I have to go to the market tomorrow I'm running low on some stuff anyway.  

August, 22, 1:00am. I just woke up from an awful dream that I had. In the dream I was in my room hiding from something outside in the hallway. The lights in the hallway were on but the rest of the lights in the house were off, which made the hallway seem so much more illuminated. I slowly and quietly cracked my bedroom door open and peaked out into the hallway. I saw this thing, this humanoid thing crawling around on all fours. But this creature when I looked at it closer was my fucking mother. Crawling around like some fucking animal. I am terrified to leave my room now. I feel so alone and vulnerable. I don't know if my dream was some omen,  trying to tell me that my fear of being watched was confirmed, and that there is some unseen presence in here with me, watching me. Or that my mother, my mother who is posting pictures on her Instagram and hasn't called me, really isn't my mother. That there really is someone else using her phone posing as her. All I know is I'm traumatized by what I saw in my dream. I don't know if I'll be able to leave my room again. 

August, 22/2022.

It's now 12 pm. I've been awake since pretty much 1 in the morning staring at my bedroom door. I have to go to the market to buy more food, I can't starve to death in my room. I don't think I ever mentioned it but I have this painting that hangs above my bed in my room. It's a cheap painting of the Mona Lisa, not the real one of course. But I could never look at it too long without feeling uncomfortable but never paid too much attention to it. But after my awful dream last night that uncomfortable feeling I get looking at this painting is amplified. I feel like she watches me. I've always had weird dreams ever since mother hung that painting in my room but this is too much for me. I know now that it is responsible for my nightmare last night and the awful feeling of paranoia I get when I'm alone. The enemy has been in here with me the whole time without me knowing, in the place I felt the most safe in. I'm going to head to the market. I'll leave through my bedroom window so I don't have to go into the hallway. I'll get rid of that creepy abomination of a painting when I get home. Peace out, me from the future if you read this.