In writing a letter there must be the one who wrote it. But how will you know if the person who's giving you the letters is really a person?
You never see him, never hear him. How can you trust the person behind the closed, old, creepy door?
Vivian...
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Dear Diary,
I think I'm going crazy. Ate Marie looked scared, everytime na dadalhan niya ako ng pagkain ay hindi siya makatingin sakin ng diretso. She's avoiding me, she doesn't want to look at me.
Kung dati ay nagtatagal siya sa kwarto ko, ngayon ay ibinababa niya na lang ang pagkain sa study table ko at hindi na nagsasalita, lumalabas na lang siya agad.
Hindi pa rin nila hinahayaang nakabukas ang pinto ng kwarto ko. Hindi ako mapakali, gusto ko nang lumabas. There's something inside me that is dying to go back in that room kahit na may parte sakin na ayaw ko.
Hindi ko maintindihan. This is torturing me mentally. The thoughts, they kept on coming. I can't sleep.
