The Previous Tenant Left a Diary Under My Floorboards. It’s Dated Next Year.

The First Entry

When I moved into the old apartment on Willow Street, the landlord told me the previous tenant had left in a hurry. "Quiet girl," he said, shrugging. "Never caused any trouble."

I found the diary on my third day there, while fixing a loose floorboard near the radiator. The leather was worn, the pages yellowed at the edges—but the date on the first entry stopped my breath.

October 12, 2024.

A year from now.

I almost laughed. Some kind of prank, surely. But then I recognized the address scribbled at the top of the page—my address. And the handwriting... it was mine.

The Warning

"If you’re reading this, you’re in danger."

My fingers trembled as I turned the page. The entries were short, frantic.

"They watch through the walls. Don’t trust the super. Don’t trust the neighbors. Especially not the man in 3B."

I glanced at my own walls, suddenly too close, too thin.

The next entry was worse.

"They’re coming tonight. You have to leave before midnight. Don’t let them hear you."

The final line was smudged, as if written in a hurry—or in fear.

"They’re not human."

The Man in 3B

I told myself it was a joke. A weird, twisted joke.

But at 11:30 PM, a knock rattled my door.

"Hey, neighbor." The voice was smooth, too smooth. "Saw your light on. Wanted to welcome you."

Through the peephole, the man in 3B smiled. His teeth were just a little too sharp.

The diary had warned me not to answer.

I backed away, my pulse roaring in my ears. The knocking grew louder, more insistent. Then—silence.

A creak from the hallway.

A whisper against my door.

"We know you found it."

The Last Page

I grabbed the diary, my hands shaking. There was one last entry, dated tomorrow.

"You didn’t listen. Now they’re inside."

That’s when I heard it—the sound of something moving beneath the floorboards.

Something alive.

Want a part two where the protagonist uncovers why the diary exists? Or a different ending? Let me know! 👻