Puppies and Joy

I can’t go outside anymore. I always end up face to face with the demon clown. Even when I stick to the most busy streets I somehow end up being alone with that thing. Anyone reading this blog already knows what happens next. I get paralyzed, It laughs, I laugh, we all have a horrible time. It doesn’t take long before the dog shows up. They fight, I barely escape. This repeats every time I go outside. Even when I go with someone else. Somehow we lose track of each other and I end up in an empty street where that fucker shows up. Each time his wounds that the dog inflicted are gone. He never appears inside my house though. Every now and then I see a glimpse of the dog. But never the clown thing. Sometimes it seems like the dog is guarding my house and keeping the clown away. But that can’t be right, can it? Today I was supposed to be at a new years party. But there’s no way I can go. Not with that clown thing out there. I called it off and told them I was sick. I wasn’t lying

Went to visit my grandparents for christmas eve. We had dinner with the whole family like we do every year. Which always leads to some fucking drama. This year my aunt got drunk and started arguing with my grandfather. So me and my sister stepped outside into the backyard to get away from the yelling drunk people. Not that I wasn’t drunk either but at least I wasn’t yelling. My sister asked if I was alright. I lied and said yes. She saw through my lie. We talked. I was too drunk to remember what we talked about. Eefje obviously came up. Luckily I was not drunk enough to talk about the dog or anything that would have made me look crazy. We hugged and she went back inside once her cigarette was finished. I wanted to wait untill the yelling stopped. That was my mistake. Once I was alone it didn’t take long for the demon clown to show up. I blinked and there he was. Standing once again in front of me. My body froze up like last time. He started laughing. It was a low wheezin

I still haven’t told the full story. Anyone reading this blog has probably guessed that already. I stopped the last post about Eefje before I got there. I didn’t say how it all ended. Because I can’t. It’s a secret I can’t reveal. But it seems that my secret is what the hellhound is after. The Black Dog apparently hunts those who keep secrets. According to Rosa my best bet to get rid of it is to expose my secret. Rosa is another blogger who seems to know a lot about these things. So she’s probably right. But I can’t. I would love to have at least one of these things off my back. I would do almost anything but that isn’t one one of those things. Revealing my secret would mean breaking the promise I made. Eefje begged me and I can’t let her down a third time. I will have to find another way to get rid of it and that demon clown as well. Because so far I haven’t found a single way to get rid of that fucker either. From what I’ve read that thing doesn’t stop stalking you. It eve

I finally did it. I Burned the book. Figured I’d have better luck with a bit of alcohol in my system. Not too much obviously. I wanted to burn a book not burn down my house accidentally. So two beers would be enough. I didn’t want to go back to the bar I went to last time. That’s where I had my encounter with the Demon clown. So I’m not very comfortable with the idea of going back there. Even if that thing can probably show up anywhere it wants. Instead I went to a new bar that just opened up around here recently. It’s called Murphy’s and somehow despite being open for only a few weeks it already looked like it was falling apart. I guess they hadn’t been able to renovate the old building yet. Because the pipes were leaking, there were moisture spots on the ceiling and a few of the chairs seemed to be unstable at best. I decided to just order my two beers and get the hell out once I finished them. Not a place I wanted to be alone in. I’m probably not going back there. Next ti

No matter how much I try I can’t stop reading Eefje’s book. Why am I so weak? Every time I read it I end up crying in my bed. Then I fall asleep and relive all the times I hurt her in my dreams. These days I always wake up crying. Last time I wrote about all the good memories I had of her. I guess I should include some of the bad ones as well. At least one of them. I was sixteen and she had just turned seventeen a month before. We had just finished friday’s basketball practice. We had won a practice match against the other half of our team. So we were in a very good mood. We did a victory dance and teased the losing team. Everyone laughed and we went to shower. After changing we said goodbye to our team. We hopped on our bikes and headed to Eefje’s place to play some video games. Still riding on the high of victory I challenged her to a race. So we did. She passed me by pretty quickly but I didn’t want to let her win so easily. So I started going faster, faster than I should h

What kind of fucking name is that? Apparently that is the name of the terrifying clown thing. Or at least its most commonly used name. That’s the name that stuck? Really? Fucking Merryman. That’s like summoning a demon of bloodshed, war and cannibalism and when it appears in front of you it introduces itself as “Steve”. Like what the flying fuck?! Also that hellhound’s most common name is apparently “The Black Dog”. I mean it’s accurate but that’s the best you could come up with? What. Another name someone used was “Fenris”. Which doesn’t fit at all. Fenris was a gigantic wolf not a dog. I’m also pretty sure Fenris is supposed to be chained up until the end of the world. Which unless Ragnarok is upon us means that it shouldn’t be able to appear in my fucking bedroom. It gets even better. From what I’ve been reading it seems there are more of these things out there. The freaking birds that psychotic faceless asshole is serving are one of them. So guess what, I was wrong. He

I feel drained, barely have the energy to write this post. But I promised myself I’d document everything that happened. It’d only be worse if I kept it all bottled up, right? Not that writing it on this blog will help much. Especially when the only person reading it is some sicko edgelord. I tried to burn the book again. But I couldn’t, not again. It’s the last piece of her that I have. I know I’m being selfish by keeping it, I don’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve her. Instead of burning it I just sat on the floor for who knows how long and stared at it. I had a lighter in my hand but I couldn’t... In frustration I threw the lighter away. I then got up and walked out. Went to a bar in the middle of the day and got drunk. Unfortunately I’m a lightweight and got drunk after three beers. I was also broke by then so I went home. While walking home I suddenly froze in place. I couldn’t even move my fingers. Then I saw it, that inhuman clown thing. It appeared out of nowhere and tow

Her name was Eefje. I couldn’t stop myself from reading her book. Now all the memories are flooding back. I need to talk about these memories to someone. But I don’t have anyone to talk to so I’ll just write it all here. I met her when I was only eight years old. She was one year older than me but was held back one year so we ended up in the same class. For the first part of the year we barely talked. But then we had to do a group project together. We were best friends from that day forward. I don’t know why, we just clicked I guess. I remember the first time we held a sleepover at her house. We stayed up all night reading comics together under her blanket. We didn’t get caught but obviously the next day her parents knew something was up when we both fell asleep at the breakfast table. I remember the first time we fought. She accidentally damaged my dress. I was extremely angry about it. I was stupid. Later we both apologized and hugged for what seemed to be an hour. It

The book is real, not a hallucination. I brought it with me when I went to my therapist. He saw it and asked me about it. Which means the book is a real physical object that other people can see. Somehow.. Somehow this book that should be ashes right now is on my desk, without any signs of ever being near fire. Aside from the smell, it still smells like sulfur. She only ever made one. She never made any other copies. This book was meant only for my eyes. So this isn’t just another copy. This can only be the real deal. So good news: I am not as crazy as I thought I was. Bad news: DOES THIS MEAN THE FUCKING DOG IS REAL TOO?! WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?! Then is the fucking clown thing also..? No.. That doesn’t make sense. Things like that don’t exist. There are no hellhounds or demon clowns in the real world. None of this can possibly be real and yet that fucking book is. I didn’t tell my therapist about them. I was too shocked when he asked about the book.

How?! How is this possible?! How did it.. How did that damned mutt get her book? I burned it, I burned the fucking book so how the hell did it end up in my room?! Is this another hallucination? Am I that far gone that I can even touch and feel my hallucinations? I was holding the damned thing in my hand a few minutes ago! I’m touching it now.. How is this possible? Am I fucking dreaming? WHAT THE FUCK!!! Nope, pinched myself.. I’m awake. Gotta calm down. This isn’t real. It’s probably just the medication. I have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow. I’ll ask him about it then. He’ll change my medication and the Dog, the Clown thing and this fucking book will be gone. Please let them be gone. Now that I have somewhat calmed down I should probably give some context here. Even if future me is the only one that will read this. It’ll be good to keep a record, maybe that’ll keep me from spiraling even further into madness. I hope. So here’s what happened. This morning I

Bullshit! Fuckinghell, what the fuck is this?! Bullshit, that's what it is. Fuck. Calm down Fien, this isn't real. It can't be fucking real. There's really no fucking way this is real. You're just hallucinating or something. That's the only possible explanation. Fuck now I'm gonna need therapy for that too. Right, this is a blog. If anyone bothers to read this they'll probably be confused as fuck by now. I should probably explain why I'm freaking the fuck out like this. Sorry about that. I just fucking can't.. Alright let me start over.  Hi! Hello there. How are you? Good. I'm not good, not at fucking all. ...Again. Hi! I'm Fien and I started this blog because I might be losing my fucking mind. Also I need to vent somewhere and we all know the internet is the perfect place for that. So here we are. The thing is, my life has been really weird lately. Like extremely fucking weird. So