It had been about three day since my eighteenth birthday, and I was engrossed in the diary. Despite how ridiculous the story was, I enjoyed it. All fiction books were like that. After all, they were called fiction for a reason, but I had a feeling that this diary was meant to be real. Of course, I didn't believe in it. I hardly believed in Santa when I was a little girl, so it really wasn't a surprise that I used logic over reason.

The entries after the first one had been about the beast, and I was starting to get sick of it. Oh how I like the beast. The beast is a handsome man with a good heart... Blah blah blah. He was a beast. Why would she trust him?

I knew the original story. The wolf pretended to be the girls grandmother and then he ate her. So my "great-great-great-great grandma" or whatever was being absolutely stupid. The more I read, the more I wanted to chuck the supposed diary across the room.

Anyways, my nights were plagued with the same nightmare, over and over again. It never changed, I always woke up screaming with the sound of cracking bones still ringing in my ears. I was so tired that I convinced myself I was hallucinating.

It was Saturday, and I'd just walked into my room. I was about to get started on my college English homework when my ears picked up on a faint whispering sound. I stopped what I was doing and the sound got louder. It sounded like...it couldn't be!

Reilly

"What the hell?"

That's it, I thought, I've officially lost my marbles. The diary was freaking whispering my name. I inched closer, curiosity getting the best of me, despite how fast my heart was beating, to inspect the stupid thing. I picked up the worn book and turned it over in my shaking hands.

Reilly...

The book fell to the floor as I took a giant step back from it. This situation had gone from weird to down right creepy. I really needed to throw this thing out.

I went to pick it up, but as I did, my room changed into a forest, the same forest I'd been seeing in my reoccurring nightmares. Except this time it was different... it was like I was watching myself from above.

I was standing alone, trembling by the looks of it. The full moon shown down on me, making my pale skin shine. Something to my right moved, and my moved and my head snapped to look at it. A wolf stalked out of the shadows, murder in its eyes.

"Please, its me. Don't do this," my voice trembled in fear. But this me had an accent, a British one by the sound of it. So it wasn't me after all, rather some girl who freakishly resembled me.

The wolf