Click, and the camera was shut off. The video ended there. I had no idea what to think or about what was real anymore. There was nothing wrong with my daughter. I was the insane one all along. Maybe I should just kill myself for what I was putting my daughter through. These were the thoughts that ran through my head immediately after I watched that recording, and here I am now, writing about my nightmarish ordeal.
It’s 10:00pm; I’m in my room typing this up on my laptop and Kelly’s downstairs in the living room watching TV. I’m terrified to go to sleep tonight, that is, if I ever even sleep. I don’t know what the night’s holding for us. I’m sick… I’m terribly fucking sick.
I have nothing much else to say, as I’m still trying to process what’s happened, all I can do is pray to whatever gods that might be out there, though my faith is slowly deteriorating. I haven’t talked to Kelly yet either. Perhaps Dr. Delio will know exactly what’s wrong with me.
I hear my daughter walking upstairs, it’s almost her bedtime, so I’m afraid I have to go. She’s at my door now.