I Found A Diary In A Pile Of Used Books And I’m Terrified That The Story Of This Missing Person Is True | Thought Catalog

Pranks are all fun and games until something goes horribly wrong. But occasionally, the fun lies in not knowing which way things will go. We are working with GSN’s terrifying new game show Hellevator, to bring you a story about what can go wrong when a mean-spirited game goes too far. Catch the series premiere of Hellevator Wednesday October 21 at 8/7c.

30dagarmedanalhus / CC BY http://2.0 / flickr.com/photos/-dear-diary/5034427856/30dagarmedanalhus / CC BY http://2.0 / flickr.com/photos/-dear-diary/5034427856/

Before you say anything, yes, I’ll be going to the police. But I wanted to share this with you first.

So my local grocery store, it has this cool thing, see? Right as you walk out with your groceries, there’s this bookshelf. It’s not tidy or orderly but it’s cool, it’s a used book service. You can bring your own for others to read or you can grab one to take home, just stick a dollar in the jar for charity. Honor system.

I’ve snagged a few good ones, nothing super popular or anything but some good true crime stuff. Couple of old mysteries. Then… this.

I first noticed its worn, rosy pink leather with the word “SECRETS” debossed in faded silver. A lock hung uselessly off the side of the book, broken.

I’ll be honest, I thought it was a gimmick. “Secrets” was the title and it was clever marketing shit to get me to pick it up. I thumbed through it–handwritten pages, a pale pink ribbon to mark your spot–and decided to bring the thing home.

I already told you, I’m going to the police. But this is what I found inside, starting on page one.

March 11, 1991

Brad is gone and it’s all my fault. It’s been three days.

I know I flew off the handle. I said things I can’t take back but goddamn it he’s just such a jerk sometimes. We’re supposed to do that big-brother little-sister shit but that got old after we graduated high school.
Mom’s inconsolable. She keeps saying it’s just one of his pranks. “He’ll be back, Jennifer. He’s just playing one of his ‘games’.”

I know all about Brad’s “games”. He was famous for them as a kid and you’d think he’d grow out of it, a guy in his 20s with a job and car insurance, but no—Brad still found time to pour icewater in my shower or trap my deodorant in a jello mold. I don’t know why I moved in with him in the first place.

Yes I do. Because I don’t have the money for my own place.

But Brad was nice about it, at first. He said it’d be fun to live together. Even offered to take me out for my birthday. I should’ve known better.

Mom gave me this journal when I was a little kid. I found it when I moved, thought it was lame and didn’t really give it a second thought. Now that Brad’s gone, though, I feel awful and I thought maybe writing about it would help. Anything’s better than listening to the police talking to Mom in the kitchen, telling her that they’re still looking, but more than 48 hours has passed and those are the most important when a person goes missing.

March 12, 1991

Brad is still gone. He’s still not home. The police told Mom he’s probably just blowing off some steam, he’s a youngish guy and he might just be slumming it somewhere, getting drunk or hooking up.
They don’t know that we were already drunk when it happened. I should’ve told them that in the beginning, I guess.

I thought I heard stuff moving around in my kitchen last night but when I got up, no one was out there. The cabinet doors were open but maybe I forgot to shut them.
I haven’t been sleeping much.

March 15, 1991

Mom just sits in her bedroom and cries. She won’t come out and talk to me so I go back to my empty apartment. It’s a lot quieter without Brad.

Brad’s been gone for a whole week now. They’ve been putting up pictures of his face all over town. He’ll probably be on the news soon.

I’m trying to make myself write about what happened but it’s hard.

We’d been drinking, like I said. Wandering back from downtown because we were celebrating my birthday and we were both too smashed to drive. Got to this sketchy part of town and I knew it was Brad, he’d lead us there on purpose.

I told him it was shitty, he was a guy and he might think it was funny—one of his “games”—but us girls know the bad part of town at night and drunk is just a recipe for disaster.

He didn’t care. He said, “C’mon, let’s check out this building, I hear it’s haunted!”

That’s Brad for you. I’m drunk and hungry on my birthday, thinking we might just have a good time as brother and sister for once, and he leads me to an abandoned building at midnight.

I begged him not to go in but he went ahead anyway and I didn’t have a choice — if I didn’t follow him, I’d be alone, so I went in with him.

He shouldn’t have gone there. He shouldn’t have made me go.

I don’t feel like writing anymore.

March 17, 1991

I keep waking up in the middle of the night. Weird enough it’s the same time every night: 2:36 am. It’s probably just nerves but I feel like someone’s watching me.

Brad’s still gone.

March 18, 1991

Why did Brad insist on going in that building? Why couldn’t we have just had a nice time for my birthday?

I followed him into that building, this hulking monstrosity that was probably an old apartment complex or something, a place that no doubt wasn’t haunted at all but just an excuse for Brad to play one of his “games”. I mean, I should’ve known that, I guess.

He started running up the stairs. Taking them two at a time. I had to take off my heels to catch up to him and was scared the whole time like I might step on a hypodermic needle or something. This place was a real dump.

I almost fell down the stairs and that made me mad, I almost dropped my shoes and when I rounded the corner to tell him so Brad jumped out from behind a big hunk of concrete and yelled “BOO!” Like a stupid little kid.

Except it worked, I screamed and dropped my shoes AND my purse and they went tumbling down the broken concrete steps and Brad just laughed and laughed and laughed.

I got so mad. I started hitting him. I don’t think I would’ve been as mad if I hadn’t been drunk but I was.

He was laughing still, backing away and shielding himself with his arms while I slapped and shrieked that he was an asshole, he was the worst brother ever, he was a shitty person and a horrible roommate and the only reason I was even living with him was because I was too broke for my own place and if I had the money I wouldn’t bother to see him ever again.

Yeah, it was mean. But I meant it.

What I didn’t mean was for Brad to keep backing up while I swatted at him. I wanted him to stand there and take it but he kept laughing and backing up and all of a sudden he was gone.

He was there, right there in front of me, and then gone, down the open elevator shaft neither of us saw. Down all five floors. If I had to guess, it was probably 2:36 am.

I’m only writing this because my apartment isn’t so quiet anymore. Brad’s still gone but… he’s not.
I think he followed me home.

March 20, 1991

Okay, Brad, see? I’m doing it. I’m writing. Stop screaming at me. I can’t take the screaming.

When he fell down the elevator shaft I should’ve gone for help but I didn’t. I was scared, okay? I was worried someone would think I pushed him and I don’t know, maybe I sort of did, so I didn’t go for help. I covered him with rubble and debris and I left him there because I thought they’d find him and maybe think he got murdered for his wallet or something but they haven’t found him and at this point it’s too late to tell the cops or I’ll be implicated.

I can’t tell them, Brad, please stop screaming!

March 26, 1991

Brad wants me to go to the police but I can’t. I don’t want to go to prison. He keeps playing these pranks, stacking all my chairs on top of each other, turning all the pictures on the wall backwards, making the faucets run blood instead of water. It’s his stupid games but now they’re worse because he’s angry and now he has more power.

I hoped just writing it out would help but he’s not happy. He wants me to pay but I did, I paid just by being his sister. Something like this was bound to happen, you know? Him and his “games”.

I’m starting to get pretty scared but I don’t know what to do.

March 30, 1991

This is Jennifer I did it I pushed Brad

Brad is never coming back so I did what I had to do

Consider this my suicide note

Brad is gone and it’s all my fault TC mark

This post is brought to you by Hellevator – the terrifying new game show premiering Wed Oct 21 8/7 C on GSN.

I Found A Diary In A Pile Of Used Books And I’m Terrified That The Story Of This Missing Person Is True | Thought Catalog.Source: I Found A Diary In A Pile Of Used Books And I’m Terrified That The Story Of This Missing Person Is True | Thought Catalog

Role Shaming Dice

Maybe you’ve never tried a role play game like Dungeons and Dragons so you don’t know anything about multi-sided dice (except as a rumour). But, I have played and felt the gamer angst of bad dice. If you can’t blame the dice, what can you blame? They don’t mind – you just get an even lower/ higher roll at the next most inconvenient time.

Examples of role playing dice shaming follow (found on Facebook). What would you write to shame the dice? Any game, if you don’t play roleplay with dice.

1915531_10153789448925873_6969978248289087136_n 12717756_10153789449370873_1180574875482647847_n 12745555_10153789449430873_1871808973651236817_n

Writers as Games Developers

Is this a dream job for you? I like playing computer games (video games on the PC). I know someone is writing the characters,  dialogue, plot and so on.

Writers would also be involved in promoting the game (including social media). The best people for the job would be the writers familiar with the game.

Interactive writers are the men and women who come up with the stories and write the dialog and even the text messages seen in a range of interactive media from games to apps. Often working in a team, they may find brainstorming and mind-mapping skills just as important as old-fashioned writing skills. Rather than a novel, what they produce is closer to a film or TV script.

via How Writers Can Work with Games Developers | Publishing Perspectives.

MapleStory – 10th Anniversary

Had enough of Facebook games? There are a lot of other options for free web games. Maple Story is celebrating 10 years as a free game on the web. It’s cute too. I haven’t played for awhile but checked back in today and took screenshots of my character’s profiles. I’d forgotten there were this many of them. I thought I only had two or three.

Join MapleStory, the global version of the amazing action-oriented side-scrolling MMORPG that has captivated the world! Battle dragons, discover dungeons as an anime-inspired wizard, warrior, thief or bowman capture epic loot, make new friends and discover the wonder of Maple World absolutely FREE.

Source: MapleStory – A Free Massively Multiplayer Online Role-playing Game

msdragonlea msdragonzelda msgrzzellda msmerrillia msmerrydragon msmissprunella

Introductions: My Wonderful Husband, My Beautiful Wife

Pay attention to how people introduce someone. I like to listen to the introductions on game shows, to hear how couples introduce their partners. Often it is some version of “My wonderful husband” and “My beautiful wife”.

Wonderful is generic, not actually saying what is wonderful about him. But, it shows an overall value of him.

Beautiful is only about how she looks. It says she is valued for her beauty. When a man introduces his wife as beautiful I wonder if either of them knows how shallow that is. Also, it’s not even a credit to her, but more a boast and credit to himself for getting a beautiful woman.

What happens to her value as she ages and isn’t so fresh and pretty? What happens if she gets into an accident and her features change? What happens as she has children and her body changes? At “that time of the month” she may not maintain her beauty with full cosmetics and she might even dress down! Women’s bodies go through more ups and downs physically so measuring her value based on how she looks is not an easy thing to live with.

How do you introduce the people in your life?

Do you avoid adjectives in introduces and just give titles and names? This makes an impersonal introduction. Not a bad thing but it doesn’t give you the chance to show someone else how you value them, or boast about them to others. A sincere introduction is a nice thing. It is a real compliment.

When actors introduce each other on TV shows, like award shows, they pretty much say the same, generic thing. “The great, the wonderful, the beautiful, the amazing…” Even with the adjective those introductions are impersonal because they lack sincerity. Part of a good introduction is about sales, telling others something good about the person being introduced. However, the lack of sincerity makes the introduction impersonal, fluff.

Write an introduction for a few of the people you know.

Stick to one word, but take time to find the right word. Will you use it next time you introduce them? It can take a little bravery or boldness to show how you feel about someone else, when you are sincere and honest. However, you could brighten up their day with a real compliment spoken for others to hear.

The Dangers of Sitting

Sitting requires a person to remain in one place. This can be dangerous for health and safety reasons.

Standing allows for quicker reactions. People already standing can jump, dash or run that much sooner than someone who starts from a seated position. When action is needed sitting down isn’t a great option.

Musical chairs is a game where sitting is dangerous. Players compete for the dwindling number of chairs each time the music stops. Falling out of a chair, being pushed from a chair, or not getting a seat at all, keeps the game challenging. Even getting a chair doesn’t keep you from having someone attempt to sit on you.

There are health reasons to avoid sitting too. Long periods of being seated can cause poor circulation. Break up sitting time with light exercise. Stand up, stretch and walk in place for five minutes. Just five minutes will be enough to bring circulation back to your limbs.

Consider going back to bed for a nap as a better alternative to the dangers of sitting.

Written as a writing test for a website. Posted here as a quick and easy way to get the word count and spellcheck at the same time. What would you write on the topic “The Dangers of Sitting” with 250 words, or less?

Chopped Blog Posts are Frustrating!

I really am getting to hate these kind of chopped blog posts. You can’t see the full post without clicking next and next and next and next… until you get through all the points. Seldom can I find an option to read the full post, on one page all the points together. I far prefer this option. I am frustrated and annoyed with articles which require me to open more posts to read each point. Who started this idiot idea?!!

Most often I read the first point. When I notice it is yet another chopped up article/ post I tend to stop reading. Too often the rest of the points are more filler than real content worth reading. If there was something worth reading they wouldn’t be playing games with the reader.

choppedposts

Play a Game that Begins With…

From Facebook this morning:

Let’s play a game. I have been given the letter “D” by Name not included

Something I hate: Dumbasses

Something I love: Dreams

Some where I have been: Detroit

Somewhere I’d like to go: Dubai

Someone I know: Dianne Bushell Best film: Devils wears Pradha

Like my status and I’ll give you a letter.

The idea is you are given a letter by the person who had this posted on their Facebook page. Then you find answers for each of the topics but they must start with the letter you were given.

Something I hate: rudeness

Something I love: red

Some where I have been: Revelstoke, BC

Somewhere I’d like to go: Russia

Someone I know: (I can’t think of anyone with an R name. Will probably come up with something an hour after I post this).

Best film: (I’m not that into film).

Simply Security Questions

I was registering for an online points service with one of the grocery store chains here in Ontario. Part of the process was choosing a security question and then typing in your (unique and individual) answer. Well, I have a problem with the new security questions which pop up. I was just fine with the old standard Mother’s maiden name or Father’s middle name. I knew those, they had a simple and definite answer. 

Maybe they became too standard, maybe they were less secure as they became over used or maybe not everyone knows this information about their parents. Some how there are now new security questions and I usually can’t find a simple answer for any of them. I don’t remember enough, I don’t have strict enough opinions or I just don’t have a preference and this leaves me with no security questions and answers, too often. It’s frustrating. 

Here are the security questions from my recent adventure with them:

If you could be any historical figure who would you be?

Where did you go on your best vacation?

What is the name of your best friend from childhood?

What was the first concert you attended?

What is the name of your favourite teacher?

Do you have answers for all of them? An answer you are sure of enough to be able to remember and have the same answer months from now? Not me. I can think of a lot of historical figures, none I’d really want to be. My best vacation…. I can’t pick one. My best friend from childhood… too many options, we moved a lot when I was a younger child and then I never really was great at keeping friends or making them. Another memory game… the name of my favourite teacher, I can’t pick one from among the faces I remember and I’m not sure how to spell the names I can remember. First concert was Cher, or Sonny and Cher, I guess. Or was there something else I’ve forgotten. Likely so. I picked the concert question because it was the only one I might answer the same way twice. 

The problem with most of these questions is still that they do not come with simple, definite answers. Different spellings, different abbreviations, different ways of writing them (like short forms versus long forms). Even if you give the same answer it might be wrong because you typed it with capital letters or without any spaces the first time you gave the security question answer. 

This is why the old standards of Mother’s maiden name worked. Just type in a last name, with the first letter as a capital because (of course) it is a proper name. I miss the old, simple security questions. Security seems to be pulling us farther and farther away from the very things we are supposed to be accessing. I think it will be easier for someone else to guess my security answer than for me to remember it. 

What would you use as a great security question? Can you think up a few?