The Mirror Diary's (part 2)

[Pyromaniac]

(Fives years later)

-August 10th, 1983
I'm pregnant. When I told Shawn he nearly whipped me off my feet with joy. I can't say the same for myself. How much will it hurt to give birth? Will my baby be alright or will the baby die in childbirth? Will I die at childbirth? Then of course, their is the chance that neither me or the baby die at childbirth, but what of the mirror? I can't raise a family with such a thing in my house.

-August 11th, 1983
I tried to take down the mirror today. When I was about to grab it something threw me against the wall. When I got back up I could have sworn I saw a monster starring at me threw the mirror.

-August 12th, 1983
Shawn killed himself. He hung himself in front of that fucking mirror. Dahm I'm so depressed.

-August 13th, 1983
If you recall, a few years ago I mentioned that something had clawed at my bedroom door, well it happened again. This time however it talked to me. That fucking thing talked to me! It told me how it had talked to daddy and Shawn. how it convinced them that life wasn't worth living. Then it told me to open the door, so it could take me to a better place. My reply was constant sobbing.

-August 14th, 1983
It's watching me now, I can feel it. My every move is monitored by this thing so that I cannot escape it.

-October 30th, 1983 (two months later)
His name is Mark, my son that is. I gave birth to him last week. I..I did a terrible thing. I left little Mark at my grandparent's house in Brahms, I couldn't send him to an orphanage without feeling horrible but, I still want my son to have nothing to do with that mirror. My cousin Cybil works as a police officer in Brahms, I wonder how she's doing?

-October 31st, 1983
It talked to me again. This time however it spoke in a more casual tone. Asking me about my everyday life. I know it's trying to get me to lower my guard, but it feel's good to have someone (or something) to talk to. Do not think for a moment me and this monster are friends.

-November 1st, 1983
The mirror moved. Not just an inch up the wall or anything but right in front of my room. I think I'm going to die soon.

-November 1st, 1983
It's at my door again. Even as I write this down it's talking to me, trying to convince me to open the door. I think I will. I have had enough of hiding in my room day after day. I will rest easy knowing my child is safe at my grandparent's and that after tonight my suffering will finally end.

-November 1st, 1983
I opened the door. Instead of pouncing me and killing me right then and their as I thought it would, the monster merely welcomed me as if an old friend. I would describe how it looks but in all reality no words will ever be able to define it's appearance. It was kind enough to let me write this down now as I near the end of my life. It is currently clutching my right hand as i write while slowly pulling me towards my new home, inside the mirror.