Journal, what have you seen? You may not have eyes, but you must be aware of the writing on the other pages.

Today has been very queer. Rain is pouring heavily outside. I've lit up a few candles around the house in case the electricity goes out.

I've already closed the windows, but I'm still shivering! The robe I wear is only keeping me a little bit warm.

This inappropriate weather is not the only strange thing that has happened today.

This morning, I reread through all of my journal entries. The sudden clap of thunder startled me, causing me to drop you. That's when I realized that my bedroom window was open. There was a puddle forming on the wooden floor. I ran to the window and closed it, along with the curtains.

I placed a candle on my nightstand before picking you back up. I brought you with me to the small but tidy living room. I set you on the table next to my mahogany armchair and continued to light up more candles.

When I got back to you, you were already open. The strangest part: I could not recognize my handwriting on that page. It wasn't just a page, there were more than five filled out front and back.

I looked around. An intruder? There's no way they wrote this much in a mere three minutes. The writing was so detailed, I doubt they scribbled nonsense here.

I'll need to save space. The other person's writing has taken up the middle of the notebook. I only have a couple of pages left before I run into their part.