The following pages were recovered from the home of a Miss Jennifer Red at 07:23 PM on Friday, August 3rd 2012.
I called my psychiatrist today. The doctor told me I should start keeping a journal to fight the anxiety. He told me, write as if I am talking to someone and explain everything as best I can. So I suppose you[the journal] are going to become my new best friend. Let me begin with an explanation as to what anxiety I have. Whenever things get quiet, like so quiet I can hear the buzzing sound in my ear, I become stressed. No medication has worked and I feel like I am incurable. If I have the TV or the radio on it helps, but my brain knows, it just fucking KNOWS, there is no one in the room with me. I know that I am alone and that anything could be around me, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to LASH OUT[this part was scribbled in multiple times] and drag me away.
What the hell am I saying?
I'm just stressed out. I'm just tired and stressed and everything is getting to me and I need to stop hating my country and stop sleeping in until noon and stop to look at the good beautiful things in life and I JUST NEED TO FUCKING STOP!!!!![this part takes up the rest of the page]
I called my doctor again today. I didn't have any reason to, I just wanted to hear someone else talking to me. I needed to escape the stress of the soundless evil that surrounded and encompassed me at that moment.He told me he had to see another patient and hung up the phone. So I called my mother and then my brother. They both didn't seem to care about anything I had to say. They just droned on and on about the good in their lives. To good of what happens to them. Well whatever. I sat there and watched my USB moving. It was a novelty item I had bought. A USB drive with a little dog that moved its hips in circles to mimic a dog furiously humping a persons leg. It made me laugh and so I sat there and watched it.
I listened to my mother talk about how she had started building bird houses. I should start to build bird houses. Could be fun. And the noise would keep the panic attacks away.
And then my brother talked about how his daughter had gotten a dinosaur toy and was, to quote him, "so precious" in the way she carried it with her every where. I wonder if she really cared that it was a dinosaur, or if she even knew it was one. She is young that, perhaps, I could buy her something lame like a giant ground sloth and she'd never notice the difference. How laughable child like wonder and acceptance is.
However, not all of today was good. As I was absently staring at the dog USB, I kept hearing my brother talk to me. When I looked at my phone to hang up, he had ended the call after only six minutes. I was sure he was talking to me for at least and hour. Or perhaps my perception of time is faltering. Yes, that's it. At least I didn't have another attack.
I called my ex boyfriend today. He didn't seem happy to answer the call. He hung up almost immediately. I just wanted someone to talk to. Someone to keep the silence away.
I watched TV. I listened to the radio. I called 1-800 numbers and bought things I don't need just to hear someone else talking to me. I suppose I'll now be collecting interesting things. Some glass skulls, a knife sharpener, a type of silly-putty for children.
I watched some TV. How to Catch a Predator was on. I watched it for a while and pretended like he was talking to me about being a pedophile. Of course I'd never do such a thing. I hate children. I hate sex too, though that's not something to get into with you[the journal].
I watched a World War II movie that took place mostly in a British bomb shelter. The walls bothered me. They looked so dirty and dingy. Come on, people, clean your bomb shelters.
The dog USB is still moving. How amazing it is to work tirelessly at the same silly, fruitless motion for it's entire life.
[this page is filled with an intricate drawing of a web that looks like it was gone over several times in multiple colored pens]
THEY ARE ALWAYS WATCHING [these words are written all over the page in no order]
Fear the ones who live in the world without sounds
I called my sister to ask her what channel Jersey Shore came on. I hate the show with every fiber of my being, but it gave me a reason to call her. How sad that I need a reason to call my own siblings. I then went and watched the terrible show.
I need a pet.
I should buy a cat.
I wonder if Snooki has ever thought about buying a pet. Maybe she should. Maybe I should write her a letter on the pros and cons of owning a pet and then encourage her to buy one.
Does a humping dog USB count as a pet?
I dialed a random number today. A woman picked up and spoke in a strong hispanic accent. I tried to play it off as a wrong number. She hung up. I passed the time by rummaging through my old junk. I found a very pretty white glove. It was long and elegant, going right up to the elbow. I only found one though, and so I wore it without its companion. It seemed to be...cooler that way.
I also found Pokèmon cards, from when I was a child. I never truly appreciated the better ones. The shinny ones with the amazing Japanese artwork are beautiful in a way the others that I always liked, the dull ones that were "cuter", are not. I suppose I've changed my perspective.
I keep calling people. Anyone. I go through my phonebook and call names at random. I just want to hear a voice, any voice, that is directed at me. I need an escape right now. I spent an hour today picking up my hairs from all over the house. I have a decent sized pile by the end of it. I think I'll start gathering my hair more often. IT helps keep my house clean and it takes my mind off the quiet. It...decreases the pressure.
The humping dog USB is still moving. I gave it a few pieces of meat as a gift for it's ability to continue.
I've collected enough hair to fill a large mixing bowl.
I still have my phone on me, praying someone calls. Someone will call. Someone has to call.
Something has gone loose in my head. Something is making me just go nuts! I'm acting like I'm a psychotic! I need some air. I need some better help. My psychiatrist wont return my calls though. I want to get help. I want to be something better than a woman who lives in terror of the silence. When I go out, I keep my phone in hand. I can never go anywhere without my phone. My doctor will call. My doctor will help me.
[this page is filled with random symbols, each with the name "Jennifer" written around them]
I got a pet cat to keep me company. She's not very loud I wear a mask to bed now because then I will live and breath as the mask in my dream and I will become the mask in my sleep because anything is better than being me the dial tone of my phone is nice and soothing and I listen to it all day without ceasing I leave my home phone off the hook and listen to its sound and I watched the movie about WWII again and I noticed every stain on every wall of the bunker
Just who the hell does that dog think he is?
I have a memory card for a Playstation 2. I do not own a Playstation 2. I bought it to give me a reason to talk to someone in a store. I'll pretend I have files on there. I'll pretend I have a Playstation 2.
Telephone, oh great and mighty
Soft and smooth plastic shell
Sing me to sleep nightly
Ring and all will be well
THEY KNOW WHO I AM!!! [these words are scrawled across the entire page]
I see the beauty in the silence now.
They are coming for me. The beautiful ones who live in the darkness. They are coming.
They will find me.
If I put down my phone I will [the rest of the page is covered in blood and unreadable]
Jennifer Red died by bleeding out from self inflicted injuries after stabbing her wrist with her own pen. Further investigating showed Jennifer had no living family. Her mother died, while pregnant, in a car crash 16 years prior to Jennifer Red's death. Her brother died in the same crash. Upon investigating the house, there was a food bowl filled with cat food, but no signs of a cat. Her telephone was broken in her hand. Her service provider had no records of any calls for the past two years.