The Story of Jonathan James

From Trollpasta Wiki
Jump to navigationJump to search

May 15

Found this journal, just sitting in my closet. There were some scribbled writings from when I was a kid, but I couldn't read them. I tore them out and decided to start writing again... Why not, yeah?

I've nothing interesting to write for today, but maybe in the future.


May 17

Still nothing special. Went to work today. Tim's still acting like a superior jerk. I just wish I wasn't the focus of his attention. Sometimes, I think he's out to get me, but that can't be right.

Can it?


May 24

I'll be honest, I forgot about the journal. I only remembered it when... well, when I saw it. I do have something interesting to say, though. About two days ago, I swear I felt something under my foot when I was walking through my living room. I would have felt it before, but this was the first time I noticed it. It was like a solid mass, about the size of a golf ball. It was just sitting there under my carpeting... I felt around, trying to find it today, but there was nothing there. Odd.


June 3

I forgot. Again. The mass seems to find its way around my house, but that can't be possible. Maybe it's a mouse or something? No, I'd have crushed it. Hmm... I'll have to keep an eye out...


June 7

Tim hasn't been at work for about a week, now. For such a hard worker, he's been out "sick" for quite a while recently.

There, there it is!! I... I can see the the thing...!! It's an obvious mass, just underneath the carpet... let me just...

Gah! It disappeared right before I could feel it... It's like it can see me through the carpet...


June 15

That... that thing is following me. Every room I'm in, it's there. It might be in the corner, or right where my foot's going to land. It's always in sight, always underfoot... I've almost fallen down the stairs at least five times this week...

Tim sent in a resignation form. Looks like the lighter side to this whole ordeal.


June 20

I saw Tim walking down the street the other day. He just looked at me with an odd smile. I've never felt more disturbed in my life...

Except, of course, when I see that... monstrosity. Whatever that thing is underneath my floor, it's evil. I haven't seen it, but I can just tell... in hindsight, everything's clear, but now...


August 2

It tried to kill me. Again.

The Beast has showed itself, though just barely. I saw a... no, not a tail. It looked like a tail, but I can't be sure...

I saw Tim again. Nothing else can give me worse nightmares.


August 10

I'm not even able to sleep in my house anymore. I saw it, the whole thing. It was standing over me in my sleep, staring. It had a person's face. A person's face. I lied about not having worse nightmares.

Wait. Now that I'm thinking about it... It had a smile on it's twisted face.

It looked a lot like Tim's.


August 16

The Beast has been following me. No matter where I go, it's right there... just out of sight.

I'm able to hear it, now. I don't know how I ever missed it.

The heavy breathing. The deep, bass-like heartbeat. I may be going insane, but that's not possible, is it?

Only sane people question their sanity, don't they?

Don't they...?


August 28

Tim just... Tim was...

I can't write right now. My thoughts are in shambles.


August 30

I can finally express my thoughts.

Two days ago, I woke up in room 267 (Slept in a cheap, sleazy motel) and it was right there. Staring. I screamed like no person should ever scream. Once my voice packed up and left, my brain decided to start working. It wasn't breathing, wasn't moving. The booming heartbeat I had grown so used to had disappeared. It was dead, but how...?

And then my head turned, almost by itself. Tim was sitting in the corner, oh-so-nonchalantly. Watching. He looked tired, but proud of himself. I freaked at seeing him just sitting there. He looked at me with an expression so blank, a poker champion would have been impressed. I motioned to the monster, as my mouth couldn't form words anymore. He simply nodded at me. I wasn't sure how I should feel, but gratefulness washed over my whole being. I tried to thank him, but the restraining order my vocal cords had filed against me didn't expire until next week. In place of a proper thank you, I got up and shook his hand. Then, of all times, I had to use the restroom. Once I was finished doing my business, I came back into the room.

Tim was gone.

I MUST find and thank him.


September 14

Tim has been impossible to find.

I finally got promoted.

The Beast is dead.

Nothing's gone wrong since It died, but... One can't be too sure.

September 17

Found Tim. My voice was with me, so I was able to effectively thank him. He said, quite simply, it was nothing. His job, he said. We scheduled another meeting, for next week. Can't thank him enough. We're going to go to that new bar, and all drinks are going to be on me.



Jonathan won't be writing in this journal anymore. In fact, he won't be writing in anything anymore. If you find this, don't come looking for a story.

You'll never find one.


Credited to BludThursty

Comments • 0

Loading comments...