This isn’t the first time I’ve moved to a new house, and this isn’t the first time that I’ve found strange things inside the new house. I’m used to old with strange pasts. We even moved in a house where we found the remains of the previous owner and their dog. But this, was even stranger than that.

I’ve seen diaries before. I even keep one myself. I’m used to the secrets that they hold. But these were more than secrets. These were curses. And that’s putting it nicely.

These are stories of men and women that had wronged the author of the diary one way or another, and these men and women found themselves with curses and eventually an early death. I researched some of these names, and they all ended up the same: tragedy.

One of the stories stood out more than the others. It was about a young girl no older than 15. It says she had just turned 15 the week prior. There was a birthday party. The writer of this book states they were there at the party. But the birthday girl didn’t actually invite her and she didn’t want the author there. The birthday girl’s mother made her invite everyone in the neighborhood; it was a small neighborly area. Then the author arrived, the birthday girl shunned her and even made fun with the others. That was the last thing the birthday girl did, and she didn’t live to see another birthday. She didn’t even live to see another week. The birthday girl ended up dead in a rose bush with blood turning the white roses red. Some of the blood was even used in this journal made into the image of a single rose. But what I don’t understand and what bothers me more than anything and even more than this story itself, is why is my name in this book? Why is there an image of an animal drawn with blood next to my name?