#writingnotes520

Just after I left seventh grade, I began to have dreams weirder than any I'd experienced before. They featured a large cast of characters, but one in particular kept showing up. He had messy brown hair, olive skin, and often wore yellow clothing. He showed up in nearly every dream I had in this sequence, until August third of that year, the last time I saw him.

My best friend at the time had an older sibling that I got along with, who had just graduated high school. This older sibling had gotten a new boyfriend over the summer, a young man with messy brown hair, olive skin, and yellow as his favorite color, who they had first met on August fourth. His speech patterns were the exact same as I remembered from my dreams, but he didn't remember me even though I remembered him.

Ever since my friend and I met this new person, who I'll call P, we began to have paranormal experiences, spiking especially during summer breaks, and everyone who we would tell about P's existence began to have them as well. Deals resembling those of demons, vengeful dead appearing in possessions to help or harm us, alterations of memory via what I can only describe as some sort of magic, and many, many more I would rather not name for the sake of brevity. There's always other statements I could submit on those.

I stopped talking to those friends for personal reasons, and by extension I have not been in nearly as frequent contact with my former friend's older sibling. Ever since then, these paranormal experiences have stopped, and P and my friend's sibling broke up. I have never heard any news of P since.

The strangest part, though, was his link with the sun. Somehow, wherever P's partner went, it would only rain at night, and sunlight would follow them during the day. That doesn't happen anymore, I think. Whenever I try to bring any of what happened up to this former best friend, who I have recently begun speaking to again, he denies that any of it was ever real, claims that everyone was just in a strange mental state or lying for some kind of attention from the rest of us. But I can tell he knows better.

Statement ends.

Sorry that happened to you, hopefully nobody got too badly hurt from them, and that you don't have to see P again

Idk which fears they could be tbh. Obviously The End because of the ghosts, Eye maybe cause you saw them in your dreams, and possibly Spiral cause of the memory altering. I would say Vast because of the sun thing, but idk if that's Vast related, and I'm also willingly to say stranger, but idk

I've worked two weeks there this summer, so far. Already the place seems even stranger than I last described. The first week went well enough, with nothing particularly odd, but the second was... interesting.

In the first week, my superior was a man. He was somewhat new to the state, and definitely new to the job, though I'd seen him at training. I'll call him Jake, though keep in mind this isn't his real name, no one I will be discussing will be referred to by their real names. Jake was nice enough, but the next week, he was gone, replaced by Lily, a woman I knew had worked there in previous summers. Lily is also great, but no one has discussed Jake or what happened to him. According to my fellow counselors the other day, our bosses have refused to acknowledge that Jake ever existed.

In the meantime, Lily was acting strange this past week. When putting on an accent that was supposed to sound like a pirate, she sounded almost exactly like Breekon and Hope. She used the phrase "Bone Apple Teeth" that same day, and didn't say anything when I pointed out what she'd said. She might have been making a joke, but when paired with the general unsettling feeling the place gives me at times, I don't quite trust her.

I got a closer look at the small structure I described in the first statement. It seems to have some type of furniture, and a window in the back. Even with the gate being now perpetually open, it is behind a short fence, but this doesn't make me any less freaked out. I can't help but wonder if anyone truly did ever live in there.

Statement ends.

Bone apple teeth..BONE APPLE TEETH?! ..Bon Appetit?

Bro is your boss Helen or something?? Cause that would be cool ngl- Also rip Jack, got replaced by the stranger probably

Also if someone did actually live in the structure at some point that would be..horrifying actually just why-

I used to love going to theater day camp as a child. Every summer, from the ages of eight to thirteen, I would pick a week to go and learn songs and dances so we could ultimately put on a show. When I turned sixteen, I was finally eligible to work there, and so I decided, why not? I'll give the next generation the same joy my counselors gave me.

Going in as a near-adult was strange, though. The place was both bigger and smaller than I remembered it, with rooms I'd never seen before and counselors that seemed even more cheery than I recalled. Of course, that's nothing paranormal, I had to put on that wide camp-counselor smile too, but it did unsettle me. In my first week, I was assigned to supervise a group of preschool aged children throughout their days.

The preschoolers have a very different routine from everyone else. The song we sang in the morning was different, about how our mascot wanted to play with us, and all our time indoors was spent between three rooms. These rooms "belonged" to our company mascot, a jester by the name of Jingle. (I know the Archivist reads these, and I know some others may have access to the archives as well, so I do ask that if you recognize the company, not to mention it. I'd rather not lose my job, as unsettling as it is to work there.) Jingle has a fair amount of lore, including a birth certificate that simply lists his date of birth as "Tuesday". Canonically, his social security number is 1. He may very well be ancient.

Working with the little kids, I have often had to mention Jingle. I told them that we were doing art classes in his "house" because he invited us, that he never showed up to the children because he was always somewhere else or just shy, and of course, we had to keep up the lie that he existed in the first place. Images of jesters are everywhere in the building, whether they be dolls or paintings, so it wasn't that hard to pretend any one of them was the real Jingle. However, whenever we passed through the hallway where the preschool kids store their bags and lunch, I couldn't shake the feeling that the eyes of all those jesters and painted characters were watching me.

Jingle has an evil twin, Jangle, which we often don't tell to the younger kids. Jangle is the trickster jester who scrambles up the puzzles or makes kids solve his riddles in the newsletter they send home with the students. He was never truly scary, not even when I was little. But when I was around nine years old, on our daily walk to the field by the building for recess, a fellow camper pointed at a small box-like structure, taller than it was wide, probably large enough to fit an average adult, with a gated door and an interior too dark to see. "See that?" they asked me. "That's where they keep Jangle locked up."

That scared me for a while, the idea that the camp was keeping Jangle so close yet so isolated in his cell, but I always found comfort in the gate door always remaining closed. A couple times, I could have sworn I could see a jester-like figure inside, but after a while I dismissed it as my imagination just making things up.

Now that I work there, however, and have worked with a couple different age groups, I'm not so sure. For some reason, I feel a little pang of fear whenever I see that structure and notice that the gate is open. We don't take that route to the park anymore. We take the longer one instead. (Though we do have to pass a cybertruck on that longer route, so... maybe risking meeting the evil jester would be preferable).

Statement ends. (And I have many more where that came from, this is arguably my most normal statement-type story)

(Don't worry idk what summer camp you're talking about, and even if I did I ain't a snitch!)

if you miss a day do you get executed or smth why are you so consistent /j

I like to keep things mysterious

The serious answer is that this isn’t my personal blog so I don’t feel compelled to have my personal pronouns here. I spent an entire day thinking about this and, well, why not punt the decision to you guys again?