Day One: 

They told me the house wasn't there and the surrounding land was barren. They were wrong, though; how else would I be here, writing this in my journal while sitting on a ratty trucker mattress? It's here, with its charming little portico and tall, sprawling spires, surrounded by lush green hedges and creamy white roses. 

I can't help but sigh. It's probably just typical local nonsense. 

The house was left to me by some distant uncle I've never met. He was Meemaw's brother, maybe, or her cousin. I'm not sure. It's family property, though, like the farm up in Ohio, and I guess it's in my hands now. 

It's nice. I need a place to live, after Deb dumped me. 

I've spent all day lugging boxes up into the foyer. My muscles are throbbing. I've got to go to sleep. 

Day Two:

I dreamt of a woman in white last night. She beckoned me from the end of a hall I have never seen before. 

I feel surprisingly clear-headed, considering the amount of manual labor I did yesterday. It always leaves me feeling fuzzy. Today will be the same. I have to build my table and my bed. Plus, I have to rearrange some furniture. I might have to fix the wallpaper on the walls, too; it's the most dreadful shade of yellow and I don't think I'll be able to stare at it all day. 

Day Three: 

I saw her again, for real this time. She is more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. Her hair floats around her as she floats in front of me. Will I see her again, I wonder? Or perhaps I'm going mad... But, then, how could I be? I've never been so intrigued by a woman before. What does she know? Why does she seek me out? 

I will find her. I have to. She's through the window. She's in the walls. I think she's upstairs. I have to find her. My skin is crawling with some weird kind of need. 

Day Six: 

I lost track of myself. I don't know what's happening to me. I lost my phone, my keys... I'm somewhere upstairs, I think. I haven't eaten anything in days... 

Whoever she is, she's coming for me. I don't know what she is or what she's doing to my mind. 

Is it okay to say that I wish I had spoken to my mother before? I might die, I want her to know. I want Dad to know that I don't blame her. I want Deb to know that I forgive her. I'm lost in this house and the woman is coming for me. She is calling for me. I don't think I can resist. 

Day Seven: 

Have you ever seen anyone so beautiful? Her face needs my eyes to make her perfect. She's in the walls. She's in the walls. 

Day Eight: 

I found her. She loves me. I am in the walls.