I took two days to analyze and reread the entries. If only you could talk, Journal, for then I'd know who wrote them.

Certainly it wasn't actually someone from the 17th century; they wouldn't be alive.

Let me think. It had to be someone from this century, clearly.

An intruder? The first time I noticed the writing was in the morning of July 5th, the day after the fireworks. It's possible that someone broke in at night. But no, I checked to make sure I'd locked everything before going to bed that night. After I woke up, I'm confident that everything had remained locked.

Unless... the intruder broke in and fixed everything? No. They would have to break something in order to come in.

Could it be..? The very thought sends chills down my spine. What if the intruder followed me in that night... I would have been too sleepy to notice. What if they're still in my house, watching me?

I slapped myself just now. Why did I even write these words down? They'll haunt me now. Call me crazy, but writing it down seems to make it more real than it just existing in my head. Damn it, why did I write that down?!

Tara Tara Tara. Tara and her radiant orange her. Tara and her plump lips. Tara and her laughing green eyes. Tara and her dangerously tight dress.

There, now I've gotten rid of the other thought. Wait. TARA!

Perhaps Tara wrote it? But why would Tara write as if she were a female vampire infatuated by the idea of blood from another female? Unless Tara's a...

I blushed. How scandalous. Though I doubt it. Tara is very mysterious indeed. However, I don't think her orientation is part of it.

I wonder why she already had a rope on the balcony that day... After all, it was the first time I snuck over there. Could it be that I'm not the only one..? How much would her chauffeur know?

I've slapped myself again. It's wrong of me to seek information from someone other than Tara herself.

Back to the subject at hand, who wrote that damned entry?

Speaking of damned things... my mother never opened you, Journal. Father was the one who owned you. Hadn't I checked? I could have sworn all the pages were empty when I first wrote in it.

I've finished flipping through all the pages. The ones after this page are empty (for now). I'll have to check continuously until I figure out who's writing in them.

Tomorrow, I plan to pay Tara a visit. I'll get her alone, even if her father is there. I need to know if she's pulling my leg.

Damn, this whole situation is driving me mad.