Dead Twisted Diaries

4:30 AM

No one truly knows Woodside Mountain like the town folks do. The town is secluded, far off deep in some mountains. No one ever hears about it, there are barely any visitors waltzing in through the town. But deep down in this god forsaken town, it lies mysteries that no one has yet to solve. There are many disappearances that come across daily. Yet everyone in Woodside Mountain finds it normal. Everyone who really knows about Woodside Mountain, will tell you it's cursed. The more questions you ask, the more people will be inclined to tell you stories, mostly of urban legends and terrifying rumors. Then there are those people that will tell you that supernatural runs rapidly around our streets as it lurks.

Though what truly made the investigations go wild, was the day a young high schooler, Wyatt Earhart had found out about his parents' death. They went out to go on vacation, leaving Wyatt home with his grandma. Upon them leaving.. they never came back. A young couple came across a car that was rammed up against a tree, it was smoking.

"Honey, stop the car." A female spoke out. The couple pulled over, opening their car doors hesitantly before walking up to the car that crashed, swerved off the road. The man used a flashlight from his phone. The car doors were wide open, blood appeared to be dripping from the car seats.
"I- I'm going to be sick.." the man slouched, placing a hand on his stomach.
"We have to call the police.." the woman stated as she looked around the car, only to see a wallet sitting still in the passenger's seat. Only to open and see credit cards, money, an ID, and a family photo. When Wyatt and his grandmother were alerted of the news, Wyatt was devastated. He had emotions that drove him beyond mentally crazy.

Gasp! Wyatt had woke up in a cold sweat, shivers went down his spine as he slightly curled up, his legs pressing up against his bare chest. The blue eyed male would soon remove the covers off of him, soon appearing to drag himself out of bed, only wearing his blue briefs. It was still night out, staring at the crimson light on his nightstand, the clock only read, '4:30 AM.'

Wyatt stood there for a second before he would walk his way towards the bathroom in the dark hallway, having the bathroom light to be the only light that appeared across the house. Looking at himself in the mirror, he brushed his dark chocolate brown hair with his fingers. The boy stared at himself in the mirror for a minute, he couldn't see himself going back to sleep, just too much that pressed against his chest at that moment. He was filled with sadness and grief. Everything he had, slipping out of his fingertips, only to have more to come. Wyatt would continue to stare at himself in the mirror until he finally found himself moving to shut the bathroom door, and to take a hot shower, get himself cleaned up for a school day he didn't want to end up going to.

He knew people were going to ask questions, going to ask him how he is, anything to overwhelm him. While the hot water hit his pale white back, he only found himself falling into deep thoughts that only hurt him deep down. The sadness filled his body with a cold shiver. The boy couldn't come to cry, though he was pained with years of tears and the only time he could let them out was now, but he couldn't. Why?

Eventually plopping out of the shower, drenched head to toe, he grabbed a towel and ruffled up his hair until he wrapped it around his hips to cover himself and dry while he would wash his face, brush his teeth, and so forth with his routine. It was early, the blue eyed boy usually procrastinated upon waking up in the mornings, only to see himself two hours ahead with a decent routine and taking his time. When he had finished in the bathroom, getting himself ready, he walked back in his room only to put on a plain black t-shirt, his varsity school jacket, jeans, and black high top converses. He didn't feel like eating though his stomach has been empty ever since the day before, ever since the up rise of the news.

It made him think to himself, doubting himself. He thought he should have loved his parents more, he should have payed attention, he should have listened. He was a great kid, he did love his parents, he did pay attention, and he did listen. But he wished he did more of it because he didn't have a thought appear in his mind that one day his parents will mysteriously vanish only to have a broken car and a wallet for souvenirs.
Sitting down in the old worn down wooden chair, he scooted it closer into the desk and turned on the dim lamp. The room was quiet, it was still dark. 5:00 AM. He had another two hours until going to school. So spending that time he opened up a journal he had kept away in his desk. He never used it because he thought 'writing feelings' or 'diaries are for girls' but now he had a use for it. To write down everything on his mind.