The Bloody Diary from the Antique Shop | Paranormal Story

Paranormal Story: An old child’s diary found at an antique shop tells of visits from her dead father, his creepy requests, and the mysterious ‘hodja’ in the house. Real or imaginary?

I was quite bored sitting at home during the Covid days. I don’t use the internet much, only for research. Therefore, I spent most of my time reading books. One day, when the restrictions were lifted, I went out to buy books. In the city where we live, there’s an antique dealer uncle. Don’t mind me calling him an antique dealer; it’s more like a second-hand shop, you can find anything there. Sometimes, ownerless diaries also arrive, and I take great pleasure in reading them. I mean, since I don’t know whose diary it is, I’m not intruding on their private life, right? Or maybe I just want to convince myself of that.

One Wednesday, I left home and headed towards the antique dealer uncle’s shop. When I arrived at the shop, the uncle hadn’t opened it yet. Since his house was on the floor above the shop, I rang his doorbell. The uncle came to the window. He didn’t know my name, and I don’t know his; I always call him “uncle”. He looked at me and said, “Yes, my child?” I asked, “Have new books arrived, uncle?” “They have, my child. Wait, let me throw you the keys. You go in, take what you want, and leave the money on the desk. My legs are aching again, I can’t go up and down the stairs,” he said, throwing the shop key down towards me.

Feeling proud of myself for having earned the uncle’s trust, I opened the shop door and went inside. I was looking for a book, diary, or journal among the newly arrived items. While browsing through many useless phone directories, recipe books, and books with various mixture recipes, my eye suddenly caught a book with marks resembling bloodstains on it. It was a blue book with pictures of clouds on it. Examining the blood-like stains on the clouds, I considered the possibility that it could be blood.

When I looked at the first page, it started with “Dear diary.” It was clearly a child’s diary. Giving in to my curiosity, I took the book. I left 20 TL on the desk, locked the shop, and left. Throwing the keys back to the uncle, I asked, “When did the book arrive, uncle?” The uncle replied, “Oh, that came yesterday. There was a landslide in one of the villages, people salvaged what belongings they could and sold them. It came here from there.” “I understand, uncle, may God protect you,” I said, left, and returned home. As soon as I got home, I retreated to my room and started reading the diary.

Excerpts from the Diary:

• April 23, 1992, Time 20:25Dear diary, today was my birthday. My uncles, aunts, grandpa, and grandma came to our house and celebrated my birthday. My uncle bought me my favorite toy, you know? That’s why I was so happy. I don’t even know how I’ll sleep tonight. I miss my dad so much. Sometimes he comes into my room and strokes my head. Today is my birthday. I hope he comes tonight.
• April 24, 1992, Time 19:48Dear diary, last night Dad came. Just as I was about to fall asleep, he entered my room. He gave me the doll he was holding. I took it. It was a little dirty, but it was a beautiful doll. Dad and I talked until late. Thank goodness Mom didn’t see, otherwise she would have been very angry with me for not sleeping.
• April 25, 1992, Time 24:00I’m very unhappy, diary. Dad came into my room just now and wanted to take me outside. “Where are we going?” I asked. He told me we were going to a wedding, to the park. But I knew I shouldn’t go out at this hour. I told Dad, “No, we can’t.” When I said no, he started hitting me. Right now, I’m covered in red marks. I’ll complain to Mom in the morning.
• June 14, 1992, Time 14:55That man does things in our house every day. Mom said he’s a hodja. Aren’t hodjas only at school, diary? And the hodja is with me every day, every moment, constantly wanting me to do things. He says things to my face that I don’t understand. Dad told me not to talk to that hodja. That’s why I never talk to the hodja; I always run away from him. Sometimes I hide in the closet so he won’t find me. Dad is there too. He hides me from the hodja, and we play games together in the closet.
• June 16, 1992, Time 03:05 AMI’m so scared, diary, so scared! Do you know what I learned today? That my dad died nine years ago! I don’t want to believe it. I’ve been playing with my dad for years. But I trust my dad. He’s waiting for me at the door now. We’re going to run far away together. Because the people here want to harm us. That’s what Dad said.

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