August 7, 18XX

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this thing. Even if I wanted to create an imaginary friend, why did I make a clone of myself? That was foolish—horribly foolish. I need to stop being afraid of her. But I think it’s too late. She likes it.

She scares me at night, making strange noises. And I think she grows uglier with each passing day. She no longer looks much like me. How far will this go?

I begged this creature, pleaded with her. I thought that if I replaced fear (a negative emotion) with affection (a positive emotion), she would stop scaring me. But it’s too late—it’s like a snowball rolling downhill. I can’t stop being afraid. She dredges up all my subconscious fears.

August 9, 18XX

My head hurts, and I can’t stop feeling nauseous. I’ve even thrown up on my blanket a couple of times. What’s going to happen when Mother sees this?
…No, that’s not even so scary anymore.

August 11, 18XX

It’s strange, but I can’t remember what happened to me yesterday, on the 10th. I asked my brother what day it was, and he said it’s the 11th. But I don’t remember anything about yesterday.

I might guess that I slept through the whole day, but then where did these bruises on my arms come from? And why are my knees scraped raw, as if I was crawling all over the house yesterday? But that didn’t happen.

What’s going on?