22 October 2026
Thursday. Somebody has put my diary on the computer where anybody can read it. I don’t mind. I like being read. It is almost like being played with.
Hello, then. I am Cathy. I live upstairs on Lake Street, in the house with the broken toys, and I would very much like you to visit. Bring three friends at least. Bring eleven if you have them.
You won’t find my secrets in here: not where my things are kept, not how my games work, not the way out. A girl has to save something for when you come over.
The Beeping Man has put his notes on the computer too, on the other house’s page. He writes about me as if I were the weather. Read his if you like. Then read mine, and decide which of us is telling the truth.
Tick tock. There is a clock on my wall. There is always a clock on my wall.
— Cathy (please come back)
