Good evening dear journal. I have some good and some bad news. The good news is that I was not attacked last night. I got away with 4 hours of sleep though, I have Carlos to thank for that little bit regardless. The bad news is that another murder occurred.

The murder happened a few doors down.

When I spoke about this on my radio show after seeing the sheriffs secret police around the building this morning and watching the victim dragged out, the sheet in which it was covered blood soaked and dripping with gore, it was kind of a reassurance that it wasn't a dream. I am... Terrified my journal. I'm afraid even Carlos can't protect me. Who is this "him" they were looking for? Is it me? Is it Carlos? Regardless, the Sheriff's secret police have cleared my entire floor of my apartment out to investigate. Seeing the claw marks in my door as I left, Laney's cage in hand, my throat caught. It was horrible. Long thin streaks carved into the wood. Bloody handprints smeared across them. The handprints unnerved me but also filled me with hope. With these, they just might be able to pull fingerprints. Hopefully.

I am at Carlos's now. He let me stay in his room and we are sitting in his bed watching a cartoon about a little purple dog named Courage who protects his owners from all these supernatural entities and creepy beings. Carlos says it was his favorite show growing up.

I say that it is endearing.

He laughs.

He kisses my nose.

I laugh too.

I am sorry that my entries are not the light hearted stories that they usually are, but these past days have been so chilling. I am blessed to have Carlos protecting me. Giving me his T-shirts, watching a silly cartoon with me, taking my rabbit and I in without any thought of a reward. Is it physically possible to love another person this much?

Speaking of Carlos, he did indeed make me pasta and let me wear one of his T-shirts. The shirt he lent me bearing an image of a substance being dripped into a beaker from a dropper on it. It has the words "Drop the base" written in bubble letters. I suspect it's some goofy pun. He's adorable.

Laney is in her cage and she seems upset. I know she doesn't like it in there, but I don't want her chewing Carlos's things. She is getting chubby as the days go by, and her fur, which was falling out in puffs, is now growing Back in steadily.

The chub reminds me of another thing. Carlos is going on a diet. He says that he has packed on a few pounds he'd like to lose and eating pasta and take-away every night doesn't help. I told him he's perfect just the way he is but he just laughs and waves me off.
Seriously journal, how can a man this perfect have time to worry about his image? It's perfect! Case closed! Next thing you know he'll be saying his hair is silly! I would have to put my foot down then my journal! For now, I say I'll help. He thanks me and smiles.

I want to kiss him, I want to cuddle him, and I want to think that everything is alright. I can't though. Everything is not okay. There is a murderer afoot and so far he's made it clear he can't be caught.

Carlos is staring blankly at the screen but I can see he's worried too. As my illegal purple pen Carlos gave me scribbles these entries I realize that maybe my simple (as simple as life can be in Nightvale) life as a radio show host may be being flipped upside down. I don't want to write about it. I don't even want to be thinking about it. These murders are bothering me, not only me but I can sense the entire community is worried. Murder may have only recently been outlawed but automatically people are growing upset  about  it. Hopefully this will convince the higher-ups that this is important.

Oh can I hope.

It's is late and the show Carlos was watching is ending. He is shifting and trying to read over my shoulder. He leans against me and puts his chin on my shoulder and hums gently. He wants me to set down the journal and so I will.
As I settle in with my perfect boyfriend for another night, I am so very glad I am settling in for it with Carlos.

I am so very glad that we are together.

He is trying to pull the pillow I am balancing this journal on out from under me so I guess this means I need to hurry up and finish my entry. I will write to you tomorrow just like I always do my journal.

Goodnight Journal.

Goodnight Carlos.

Goodnight Nightvale.

Authors note: I AM SO UPSET AT MYSELF. I know it's silly but I committed myself to update everyday and yet I slacked yesterday! *gross sobbing* I felt like this chapter was terrible and was drawn out way to long. Even though it was kind of a filler as I try and figure out where exactly I want to go with this... Ugh. I'll keep updating. I promise. I'll keep up if only for my own health rather for the limited readers this thing gets. And as Cecil would say (if he was aware that this is Wattpad and not some probably illegal book Carlos told him to keep)
Goodnight Wattpad
-Optic