30 Day Writing Prompts

5

5. "I can hear them in the walls,"

My name is David O'Connor. For almost my whole life, I knew Seth Woods. He is dead now. Seth had no contactable family, so in death I gave him a small funeral. Although, he didn't really deserve it. I was given his computer when his old home was cleared, and I recently set it up. Curiously, I decided to go through his device. Most of it was generic things you'd expect from a twenty-two year old man. Unfinished papers for the university he dropped out from, some even dated back to our high school days. As well as that, there were some computer games and like I suspected, some porn. Though, I came across another large document in a folder. It was labelled 'journal'. I opened it up and this is what I found. You've all heard of Seth Woods, I'm sure. This is something that was never considered when police looked further into his case, but I found this very interesting. I hope you find it interesting too, so here you go. Seth's journal.

Day 2.

Sleep taunts me, my eyelids drooping every few seconds but the scratching keeps me awake. For the first few days, I could barely sleep, but I was still getting a few hours. Now I can't sleep at all. can hear them in there, scratching and mumbling like crazy people. They're in the walls. I'm unsure of how they got in there, but they're in there anyway. I can hear them so clearly, it's less muffled than it was a couple of days ago. I'm sitting at my desk right now, the soft glow of the computer illuminating the keyboard as I type. The lights have been off for three days now. I refuse to turn them back on. That's why I'm not sleeping, right? With the lights on, my brain is tricked into the awake. If I keep them off long enough, surely, I will be able to sleep. I can hear them in the walls, but sleep will soon consume me.

Goodnight.

Day 6.

Hello again. For the last few days, I haven't slept at all. 6 days is 144 hours. I have gone 144 hours without a wink of sleep. I have not even fell in an out of consciousness. I can feel my sanity slip away from me with every ticking second. I have to write this so people know what happened to me. So they know not to sell this house to someone. The people in the walls are becoming so loud. Constant scratching snaps me out of sleepy dazes.

This is why I can't sleep. It's their fault. I haven't left my room in two days to get food. There isn't even much food left. What will happen when I need to leave the house? I look like a mess. Thanks to the glow of my computer, I caught a glance of myself in the mirror earlier. I have deep, dark, circles around my eyes and an extremely grim expression has been permanently etched on my face, apparently. My hair is oily and unkempt, I haven't showered in three days. I stink. I smell so bad. I need to shower. Maybe I'll do that next. The hot water will make me sleepy, right?

I think I'll go shower now. Goodbye.

Day 11.

It's been almost two weeks now since I have slept. I can barely focus on my computer screen anymore. Like a constantly shaking camera, my eyes keep focussing and then un-focussing on everything, not just the screen. My eyesight is fuzzy, every few seconds my eyes water when I don't blink enough. My whole life, I have never known what it's like to ache for sleep so terribly badly. As a teen, and in my first two years of university before I dropped out, I pulled a few all nighters. I'm sure everyone had pulled an all nighter, or maybe if they're wild enough even went two whole days without sleep. I've been awake for eleven days now and I'm struggling.

The people inside my walls have become more vicious. I haven't trapped you in these walls! They have started pressing harder and harder against my walls. The paint has chipped off in some places and I can now see clear hand prints where they have slammed their hands against the wall so harshly. I am scared. Pathetic as it is to admit it, I am afraid. No one will believe me if I go to the police about it, I have no where else to go. Won't they tire themselves out? Maybe one of these days. Only then will I be able to sleep.
Day 17

Six days since my last entry. I'm still not sleeping, and it feels so strange. I'm not sure how I'm even still alive. I have enough food and water to survive, but I don't understand how I'm still living. I often slip in and out of sleep induced dazes, but it isn't sleep. It's just disassociation due to the lack of sleep I've gotten in the last two weeks and three days.

I can hear them in the walls. They have learned to speak loud and clearly. What was once soft muttering has turned into almost clear talking. I can make out what they are saying now. It's satanic ramblings. I knew it all from the start. This lack of sleep? Only the devil himself could pull off something so ludicrous and keep me alive so I can suffer all the way through it. The people in the walls are summoning him. It sounds like a million tiny voices whispering and rambling on about how the devil is going to torture me. He is already torturing me and I haven't even done anything wrong! I keep seeing pentagrams scribbled across my wall, but they instantly disappear when I get up to examine them. Satan and his tricks...

Day 21

I have been without sleep now for three entire weeks. My body feels weak. I can barely get out of my room anymore, knees buckling under my weight. I've lost a significant amount of weight, but somehow I still feel heavy, as if the weight of three sleepless weeks is sitting upon my shoulders.

I can hear them again! Shut up!

I am so incredibly sick of these people talking inside of my walls! They're scratching against it making the most unbearable sounds I have ever heard. They're summoning the devil to kill me!

Screaming! They have started screaming now!

I'm sorry this has been short today, but I will have to take my leave now. I am going to make the people in the walls be quiet once and for all. Then I will be able to sleep. I will finally be able to sleep!

__

After Seth Woods wrote this, it was thought then that he got up out of his desk chair, stumbled through to the room on the other side of his and began violently ripping apart recently sealed up walls. Using only his hands and a bat, he broke through layers of wall, destroying his hands and fingers which was noted in the crime scene after discovering his blood smeared on the wall. After he had broken the many layers of wall, he finally re-discovered Ella Patterson and Bri Wong, who were both long dead by then. He taped their mouths shut and cut off their hands, possibly to stop them from scratching as he rambled about in his journal. Seth had murdered both Ella Patterson and Bri Wong a while before his death, which was caused by sleep deprivation. In some sort of psychotic break which caused him to murder in the first place, he also forgot about his wrong-doings and the guilt are at him, causing him to convince himself that they were living people in his walls, summoning Satan to kill him. There are no dates on Seth Woods' journal that confirm how long he didn't go without sleep for, or even if he didn't sleep at all. It's impossible to confirm anything, but as this was bound to float around the web one way or another, I thought I'd post it myself. Seth Woods' journal.