Chapter 258: Diary From The Past
September 17, 1992, I seemed to hear His voice again. Does He still refuse to let me go?
September 18, 1992, it intensified. His voice at night became louder and closer, but my wife was still sleeping. She was pregnant, and I couldn’t go mad at this time, disturbing her rest.
September 19, 1992, I couldn’t sleep, really couldn’t sleep. I used work as an excuse to stay up all night reading in the study room. My wife was sleeping in the next door room. I discovered that pregnant women’s sleep quality was very good, because when I couldn’t help but headbutt the wall to dispel the toad frog’s voice in my mind, she didn’t wake up all night.
September 20, 1992, these past few nights I couldn’t sleep. My spirit also seemed to have a problem. I always felt that things on the ground by the roadside were some kind of toad frog, but upon closer inspection, they weren’t.
September 23, 1992, I was unconscious for several days. The doctor said I was exhausted from overwork. After the boss at the newspaper heard about my situation, he felt very sorry for me. The members at our newspaper didn’t talk about the class between boss and employee privately; our relationships were very close. The boss’s wife, knowing my family’s situation, even specially took care of my wife for a few days. After I woke up, the boss decided to give me a month’s long vacation to rest well. I originally wanted to refuse, but didn’t know how to explain, because it wasn’t his fault.
September 24, 1992, I was discharged from the hospital. I lied saying I was mentally tense and couldn’t sleep. The hospital prescribed me sleeping pills. With the help of the medicine, I finally managed to fall asleep barely, but even sleep was exhausting. I ran in a cave full of slippery moss and unidentified spore plants. The sensation under my feet made me feel like the ground was alive, as if stepping on the mucus-covered body surface of a toad frog. Behind me, there was always a gigantic toad frog whose full appearance I couldn’t glimpse, hopping in the shadows, relentlessly chasing me, driving me mad.
October 2, 1992, I seemed to have developed resistance to the sleeping pills. I woke up in the middle of the night. The dream and reality seemed to switch seamlessly, because the toad frog’s croaking never stopped around my ears.
October 3, 1992, I must have gone mad. I actually tried to find the source of the voice. While my wife was soundly asleep, I took the kitchen knife from the kitchen and searched everywhere in the home chaotically. It seemed to be everywhere, yet nowhere. It seemed the voice was on the bed?
October 4, 1992, at my strong insistence, my wife returned to her maternal home. I asked my wife to stay at her maternal home and rest well during her confinement period. For this, my always gentle wife almost had a big fight with me. I knew she was very worried about me, but wasn’t I also worried about her? Last night while tracking the sound, I actually followed the voice onto the bed and nearly raised the kitchen knife to cut open my wife’s belly. I had gone mad thinking the voice was coming from inside my wife’s belly.
October 6, 1992, I really missed the days when my wife was by my side. I had to admit, my cooking skills were really terrible. Because my wife wasn’t there, I gradually became bold enough to go out in the middle of the night tracking the sound, walking onto the street and lying down to stick my head into the dark foul-smelling ditches, wearing slippers and stepping into flower beds, parting every leaf. I feared I would see His being somewhere during the exploration, yet I was insanely obsessed with the path of exploration. I hoped the neighbors wouldn’t see, otherwise my wife and I would probably have to move house.
October 7, 1992, last night there was a heavy fog at night, but I didn’t give up my plan to track the sound. But shortly after going out, I encountered a robber. He stood in the fog, and the flashlight made his burly flat-headed figure look somewhat eerie. I almost forgot that this wasn’t yet my peaceful era, so I turned and ran without hesitation, running desperately. That person whose appearance I didn’t know was also chasing desperately. It was only with great difficulty that I ran back home and avoided the danger. Afterward, recalling it, that robber’s footsteps sounded a bit strange. When the fog cleared during the day, I mustered the courage to revisit the spot, but nearly got scared to death by the thing in the woods. I discovered that in the woods, after my footprints, there was always a strange front paw print following. Those footprints even had webbing, which couldn’t help but make me fearfully think, could it be that the one chasing me last night was actually a frog with a humanoid body!?
November 27, 1992, ever since that time being madly chased by the frog person, I temporarily gave up the dangerous behavior of chasing the voice. I also gradually realized that although those voices were annoying enough, they weren’t unbearable. And as long as I didn’t actively pursue the voice, that person frog… the source of the voice wouldn’t actively harm me. For my wife and future child, I decided to suppress my mad side.
1992…
Fang Mu quickly flipped through the diary. The following diary entries all seemed extremely ordinary, but he still read the suppressed emotions of the diary’s owner from between the lines. Hidden behind this ordinary mortal’s life was a madman whose writing emotions became increasingly agitated.
These diaries recording ordinary life continued all the way to February 1995. Subsequently, the diary owner’s behavior of excessively suppressing and covering up his inner heart still brought bad influence upon him.
February 16, 1995, last night my wife woke me up. When I woke, I discovered I was standing on the balcony. My wife was holding me, and our then three-year-old son Jianhua was also crying while hugging one of my legs… I had actually been sleepwalking! My wife cried very sadly. I kept comforting her, comforting until Jianhua fell asleep drowsily in my wife’s arms. My wife couldn’t hold back anymore and inquired what exactly was wrong with me. This time I didn’t conceal it anymore. I told her the pain I was enduring, that a monster like a gigantic toad frog kept appearing by my side.
February 17, 1995, although unbelievable, my wife didn’t completely believe my account, but she still chose to accept my words and told me not to restrain my emotions anymore, hoping I could face the fear and face the problem head-on. However, I didn’t dare tell her that actually the outcome was already destined, and deep in my heart I no longer wanted to wade into these troubled waters, after all, the time I could spend with them was already not much.
February 18, 1995, my wife’s firm and encouraging gaze made me determined to return to the origin and find out the truth of everything. First, I had to go back to the Guinan region once more and see the patriarch of the Mo clan there again.
February 24, 1995, I prepared the things for the trip for several days. Today I finally set off. I’m recording the diary on the train. Thinking of my wife’s exhortation before departure: “The first time you went there, you were alone. Be careful with everything.” I told her I would be fine, because I knew my death date hadn’t arrived yet.
February 25, 1995, without cheap and widespread developed vehicles, after bumping along on a sleeper bus for a full day and night, I finally arrived at the destination. Damn, the feet upstairs really stink! After getting off, I took a three-wheeled motorcycle to a small town under a county town to stay temporarily. I found an inn close to the station and checked in. At the inn’s front desk, I saw a shrine with a local revered animal deity placed there. It was a frog standing propped against the wall, with its back painted full of mysterious vibrant patterns.
