— Date blurred —

I am on my way to the city. After the graduation they told us about a teaching job at an art University in the next city. It’s quite far away and nobody else wanted it so I took it. Unlike my former classmates, I don’t have any reason to stop me from moving to the city so I decided to take it.

I found this cheap little house for rent, about half an hour away from the University, on a remote road quite far away from other houses. I was worried it would be some rat infested old house so I called to check and I was told that it’s cheap because the previous owner, who passed away, didn’t have any documents regarding the property so the city took the house and put it up for rent. I was also assured that the house is in good shape and I won’t have any problems.

Now I’m sitting on my seat in the back of the bus, and I am very bored. This nice old lady gave me an old newspaper she had to keep me occupied. I did the puzzles and then read it for a bit. It was a few weeks old, and apart from a news article it had nothing interesting. The article was about an old man that was found dead in his house, with no personal documents or pictures in the house. After looking through the rest of the pages, I realized the bus was about to stop. It’s time to check out my new city.

— Date blurred —

I just signed the papers for the house. It looks great; the bedroom is pretty big for this little house. There is an empty room upstairs, where I found an old rocking chair and a fireplace. I like the feel of the room so I decided to set up my paintings on its empty walls.

After I finish unpacking I am ready to get some sleep. Tomorrow I’m going to the University to talk about the last details with the principal before starting to work next week.

— Date blurred —

I’m back from my first day at the University. The class I teach is great, and they have potential, I’m sure it will be a great year. I think I will show them the new painting I am working on, as soon as I finish it of course.

I just finished setting up the rest of my paintings in the room; I call it the gallery room now, and this is where I’ll work on my painting.

— Date blurred —

It’s been a few weeks now. Although this city isn’t as quiet as my hometown, it’s pretty nice and I love my job at the University. Unfortunately I am rather busy so I won’t be able to write as often as I do now.

I’m almost done with my painting, I’m sitting on the rocking chair looking at it as I write this; I can’t wait to show it to my class.

— Pages are ripped off —

— Date blurred —

I’ve been pretty busy for the past couple of months and I really set aside any kind of work on my painting, because I helped students on many side projects. I didn’t have much time for myself at all, to be honest, but I finally finished my painting. I feel quite tired even though it’s early. Maybe I’m tired from all the work and staying up late today in order to paint. I’ll get a good rest tonight and tomorrow I’ll show the painting to the class.

Monday — Date blurred —

I just arrived home and I feel rather tired. Something unusual happened at work today. When I showed the painting to the class, a girl asked me how I painted the “blur” effect on the lower part of my painting. I was shocked to see the area blurred. I was careful with the painting and I’m positive that it was dry. How did this happen?

I’m so confused, but I am too tired to think. It’s only 9pm but I need to sleep…

Wednesday — Date blurred —

I just woke up. It’s Wednesday and I’ve slept for two days straight. What the hell?

I’ve got a call from work and was told to go to a doctor tomorrow. I apologized for missing from work and scheduled a meeting with a doctor.

I am concerned, I need to think. I’m going to the gallery room, it relaxes me…

— Date blurred —

I’ve been exhausted for the past few days. I went to the doctor and they said there isn’t anything wrong, and that I’m just tired. I started to eat healthier, I don’t stay up late anymore but nothing works. I feel, I don’t know, weird…

— Date blurred —

I am terrified…

I was kind of getting used to the unusual exhaustion, and things were okay until a girl, — name blurred –, from my class came to see me after class. She asked me if I’m sick, she said I look like I’m in bad shape. Meanwhile, her friend walked by and told me: “You know what they say right. Teachers grow old faster due to the stress and stuff.”

I was confused, so I rushed to the bathroom (I can’t recall the last time I’ve looked in a mirror in the last week before today) and I rushed to the mirror and when I saw myself I was terrified. I looked tired, sick almost as if I was older.

I called the doctor, but he went on vacation so they gave me the number of another doctor. He told me to bring my ID and meet him sometime when I have time. I rushed to my desk and looked for my documents and when I pulled out my ID I was in shock: My name, photo and every other personal detail on it was blurred. It looked just like the blurred painting.

I’ve spent hours looking at all my documents, they are all blurred. I don’t know what to do. I called the University and told them I’m sick, and I need time off. I don’t want to be seen like this.

It’s almost midnight, and I was just sitting here in the rocking chair when I scratched my head and I realized I was starting to lose hair. Then it hit me…

I remembered the news paper. The old man was found in this house, there was a picture of this same room. How didn’t I realize that before?

I am so scared. What can I do? What w……………

— Date blurred —

I’ve passed out. I don’t know what time it is, I don’t even know what day it is. I looked at my paintings and all of them are blurred and so are my pictures. It’s like I don’t exist anymore, no ID, no pictures nothing to prove who I am.

Maybe I have to get rid of them, or maybe I have to get out of this house…

The door is locked; I can’t break the windows either. Maybe I’m too weak to do break them. It took me almost half an hour to get upstairs and I barely picked up my paintings up from the wall. I feel so tired, but I must do something. I must get rid of them…

— Date blurred —

I’ve just woken up. I was on the floor in front of the fireplace; everything burned. I don’t know how much time has passed by. God knows how many days I’ve been lying on the ground unconscious. I barely got up, but as soon as I was standing I collapsed on the rocking chair. I can barely write anymore but it feels like it’s the only thing I can do.

I don’t think I have much time left; it took me hours to write this last paragraph.

I might as well write my name down. This is the only piece of paper that proves that I ever existed.

My name is — name blurred — and I was born in — rest of the paragraph blurred —

— — — — — — — — –

This is the journal found next to the rocking chair of an old man found dead in his house. No paintings, pictures or documents were found in the house, apart from pieces of paper and glass found in the ashes from the fireplace.

There were nails on the walls, where the paintings would have been hanged and the rocking chair’s hand support had a few stripes on the lower part. The stripes were of different colors and some looked older than the others. The last stripe was from a blue pen, matching the pen used to write the journal.

The pages previous to these were strangely blurred; nothing else from the journal is readable apart from the pages posted above. The handwriting slowly changed throughout the text.

The police asked all the Universities for all the records regarding art teachers and found none matching the address of the house the man was found in. And nobody recognized the picture of the old man’s body.

Based on the writing alterations, experts assumed that the old man suffered from some kind of multiple personality disease, since it’s believed that “alter-egos” tend to have different handwriting.

The house witnessed its second strange death so it was closed down for investigations. However, assuming the man was just a mad old man that burned his documents and other belongings; the house is now up for rent again.