I Found a Diary Under My Floorboards… The Last Entry Was My Name

When I moved into the old Victorian house on Hawthorn Lane, I expected creaky floorboards and cold drafts—not a terrifying mystery under the floor. I was drawn to the place for its charm, its history, and, frankly, the affordable rent. But what I found buried beneath the floorboards was something far more chilling than I ever imagined: a diary, stained, worn, and with a final entry that read—my name.

I wasn’t searching for anything when I pulled up that loose board in the upstairs bedroom. A floorboard had been squeaking relentlessly, and curiosity got the better of me. Beneath it, wrapped in a yellowed cloth, was the diary. It looked decades old, the leather cracked and the pages brittle. On the inside cover, written in faded ink, was the name Annabel Wren. The first date: March 3, 1964.

At first, it read like any teenage girl’s journal—school crushes, strict parents, dreams of escaping the small town. But as I flipped through, the entries turned dark. Annabel wrote about voices in the walls, cold hands brushing her skin at night, and a shadow that watched her from the corner of the room. The more I read, the colder I felt, like the air itself had shifted around me.

Then I found the last page. It wasn’t dated. The handwriting was jagged, hurried. It simply read:

"Someone is coming. I saw them in my dream. Their name is—"

And there, in fresh, black ink:

My name.

Not just my first name—my full name.

I dropped the diary. My breath caught. The room, already cold, suddenly felt frozen. I was alone, but the silence felt too full—like something unseen was listening.

Naturally, I assumed it was a prank. But no one knew I’d moved in yet—I hadn’t told anyone beyond my landlord. There were no social posts, no address changes. I was in the middle of a digital detox, trying to start over. So how could anyone have known my name, let alone written it in a book that looked at least 50 years old?

I turned to the internet, searching phrases like "found a diary under floorboards", "creepy diary story", and "true horror story about diary." That’s when I discovered a local urban legend—about a girl named Annabel Wren, who vanished in 1964. Her body was never found, but her family had lived in this house.

A deep chill ran through me.

The more I read the diary, the more Annabel’s words felt... familiar. She described dreams—twisting staircases, blood on the walls, whispering voices. Dreams I’d been having since I moved in. I chalked them up to stress and the strangeness of living alone in an old house. But what if they weren’t just dreams?

I decided to dig deeper—into the house’s history, into Annabel’s life. At the local library, I found a news clipping about her disappearance. The photo sent shivers down my spine. She looked eerily like me. Same dark hair. Same eyes. Even our birthdates were just a day apart.

Was this a coincidence? Or something more?

That night, the house felt alive. Doors creaked open on their own. My lights flickered. And then, around 3 a.m., I heard it—the sound of pages flipping in the next room. I grabbed the diary from my nightstand, only to realize it was already open to a page I hadn’t read before.

It was another entry. One that hadn’t been there before.

"She’s found me. We are the same. I am her. She is me."

Then, scrawled at the bottom:

"Welcome home, Annabel."

I slammed the book shut. My heart pounded like a drum in my ears. I left the house that night and never went back. The landlord never returned my calls, and when I came back weeks later with a friend, the floorboard was nailed down tight—and the diary was gone.

But the dreams haven’t stopped.

I still see the twisting staircases. I still hear whispers calling me by a name I never gave them. And every now and then, when I look in the mirror, I see something in my eyes that doesn’t feel like me at all.

Was it possession? A time loop? Reincarnation? I still don’t know. All I know is this: if you ever find a diary hidden under the floorboards, don’t read the last page.

You might not like what it says.

I found a diary under my floorboards, creepy diary story, true horror story, found diary horror, mystery under floorboards, Annabel Wren, paranormal suspense, haunted house diary, diary possession story, unexplained phenomena.

#ShortHorror #StoryTime #CreepyReads #SpookyTale #InternetHorror #MidnightReading #CreepypastaInspired #ThrillerReads #DarkFiction

__________________________________________

Thank you so much for reading this! 🥰 If you liked my writing, please leave a comment, click the heart and subscribe for free!