The Diary.

"Jason always has been a bit too loose with his money, but I could not believe he would give his sister the amount I heard he did. Everyone knows what she is doing with it. She has an addiction, and I know she is just using the money to buy more. I don't know how he tolerates her. I know I certainly wouldn't."

Susan nodded her head and kept silent as Lloyd spoke, and he added, "I would tell her, first of all, to get a job. I don't understand how some people can be that way."

Susan responded, "Sometimes you don't know what you would do."

Lloyd laughed, "What? I know exactly what I would do."

"Oh. Do you have a sister that has gone through the same?" Lloyd answered no, that he did not have a sister at all, and Susan asked, "What about a brother?" Again Lloyd answered no. "You don't even have a brother or sister and yet you presume to know how you would handle that situation?" asked Susan.

"I don't have to. I know what I would do, and I would not do what they are doing."

Susan chuckled, "Okay."

They were now standing in the hallway outside of Susan's apartment and she was digging for her keys in her purse. She found them and inserted them into the door. Lloyd asked, "I just have to ask you, do you invite many guys up to your apartment?"

Susan's shoulders went sort of slump and she sighed a bit. Lloyd responded to her apparent body language, "What's wrong?"

"I can't believe you asked me that question, Lloyd, it's really not any of your business who I do and don't invite into my home."

Lloyd was speechless, and then said, "It is, kind of."

Susan looked him directly in the eyes, "Oh yeah, how?"

"Well, we don't know that much about each other. Just trying to get to know you."

"Sure you are," she scoffed with a smile. "Look Lloyd, we are friends. I thought we were going to keep it that way."

Lloyd agreed, "Absolutely. I did not mean it that way. I just meant, we haven't even been friends too long. I was just trying to get to know you better in a friendly way."

"Nosey questions are not that friendly, Lloyd. I am amazed you have many friend if this is the way you treat them."

Lloyd did not have many friends, and he reflected upon that for a moment, but soon dismissed it. How was to help it if everyone was too thin skinned to hear the many assessments he would make concerning their personal affairs. If they couldn't take it, then off with them, he really didn't need them. Of course he liked Susan, she seemed tough enough, and she was pretty and smart. Lloyd considered this to be a rare combination and was quite taken with it. Of course, he had these feelings for others before, and those people weren't really his friends any longer. It always seemed he could only get so close to someone before they would decide to get angry and leave.

They entered the apartment and Lloyd complimented her on it, "This is nice. I like it."

She reciprocated, "Thank you. I like it too. I'd like to have something a little larger one day, and a place that is pet friendly, I would really like to own a dog."

"Yeah. I like dogs also. I used to have a German Sheppard and he was the best dog ever."

She placed her purse on the small dining table in the quaint dining area, "German Sheppard's are so pretty. I like Dalmatians best though." She motioned at the couch, "Make yourself at home."

Lloyd stepped to the couch, and on the way he noticed a book on the tiny lamp table by the couch. The cover of it was fashioned in cloth and swirling with bright paisleys. Embroidered across the top was the word, "Diary." It caught his attention for a moment, and then he looked away. Susan made her entrance into the room with him and Lloyd said, after sitting on the couch, "Nice couch. Very comfortable."

"Yeah. Most of my furniture is rented. Right now, I think it's the best way while I am still in transition finding a place I really like."

"What? You rent furniture? Renting too much is a waste of cash."

"Well, right now, it's the best way for me."

"I don't know if it is ever the best way. It's like burning money. Paying on things you can never really own."

Susan's smile was waning, "Some places let you rent to own, you know."

"Oh, yeah. True. Is that what you are doing with this stuff?"

"No, this is just straight rental."

Lloyd made a sucking sound with his teeth, "See, I would never do that. You are just throwing your money away. I would never burn my salary up like that. You should just go out and buy your own, even if it is second handed. I always buy from that little place on Fifth Street. They have some pretty good deals there. That's what I would do."

Susan's smile was gone, "Noted." She tried, but could not command the enchanting smile back on her face, "Lloyd, you can be a bit obtuse. Do you know that?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean: is this what you do? Judge every little thing you can about a person and then find the negative, or make it negative, so you can make yourself look good?"

Lloyd became a bit tense, "I don't think I do that."

"I would have to say, it seems to be one of the few things you do habitually. It seems second nature for you. I would think you have a lot of practice at it."

Lloyd shrugged, "I just call it like I see it sometimes. Just trying to help."

"You're not helping, I can promise you that. And you are a nosey. Is that why you are nosey? Are you looking for ways to find areas to pull people down?"

"Of course not. I am not nosey. I have a right to know."

"What right is that, Lloyd? Tell me about this right to know about every little thing a person does."

"I'm just direct. If I want to know something about someone, I ask."

Susan found her smile again, "Many people find that vulgar and really don't like it."

Lloyd was now having a difficult time sizing her up, "Are you mad at me?"

Susan laughed, "No, I am not angry. Just tone it down a bit. You might not want to know everything about everyone, just bear that in mind."

"Even you?" he asked.

"Especially me."

From above the room, unheard but spoken, within the fabric of space and time, Rod Serling speaks. "For your evaluation, an encounter for one Lloyd Drum. Lloyd is that person we all know who persistently knows better than everyone else, and enjoys drilling into the most insignificant as well as profound details of another's affairs. Most of his conveyance is run of the mill gossip painted in the most drab tones, ultimately unveiling only one person to have any value… himself. Lloyd will now have a chance to put his interpersonal skills to the test and maybe get a small taste of his own medicine from a tonic that could only be prescribed, in the Twilight Zone."

The paisley covered diary caught Lloyd's attention again; it was lying only a foot or more from his grasp. Aware he would not want Susan to observe him glaring at the book, he darted his eyes about the room and turned them back to her. She was speaking on what type of television she was considering to rent, and where she was interested in hanging it in the room. Lloyd replied to her in body language, smiles, nods, affirmations of the eyes, but his mind was trapped by the lure of the diary.

There was chiming-musical tone and Susan said with much courtesy as she stood from the couch, "Oh, my phone. Give me a moment. Be right back."

Susan had left the room and Lloyd could hear her having a soft discussion in the distance. Normally, Lloyd might have sat very still and tried to eaves drop on her conversation. Instead, he found himself looking back upon the diary. It was a very thick diary, probably more so than he had ever seen. He rolled his neck about to catch a view from another angle. Was there no lock on the diary? He could not find one. Normally a diary has a lock of some kind, even if it is superficial, just to signify that the contents within are not an open book and unless you own it, you should stay away. This diary had none.

What it did have, opposed to a lock, was teeth on the edges of the book pages, along the text block. At first, he thought the teeth were only drawn, but soon could see they were slightly carved. The teeth were long zigzag, crisscrossed fangs wrapping from the spine along the top, front, and bottom of the leaves. He supposed this was a cute marketing novelty to separate this diary from all others. Instead of a lock to suggest 'No Trespassing,' this diary had a monstrous smile to imply 'Beware, Stay Out.'

Lloyd was interrupted by Susan who had reentered the room, "Lloyd, I have run down the block and pick up a package for a friend. You don't mind do you?"

"No, of course not. Want me to go along?"

"Oh, no. Just relax. Make yourself at home. I won't be long."

"What are you picking up?"

Susan smiled, "Well…. It's something belonging to someone else you don't know, so…"

Lloyd smiled, "None of my business, right?"

Susan gave Lloyd a play shot from her finger, as though she were a sheriff and her finger were a gun, "Now you're getting it."

He laughed, "Okay then. I will be here waiting."

"I won't be long, it's just down to block." Susan noticed the diary on the lamp table beside Lloyd. She briskly walked to it and snatched it up. Lloyd asked, "What was that?"

Susan walked into her bedroom and tossed the book on to her bed as she said, "Don't pretend you didn't know about the diary Lloyd."

Lloyd cleared his throat, "What diary."

She closed her bedroom door, "Can I trust you to stay out of there? The door has no lock on it."

Lloyd held up two fingers in the scouts oath, "I promise."

"I will not be long. When I get back we can call in some pizza."

"Sure thing, I will buy."

Susan left the apartment. Lloyd sat drumming his fingers on the arm of the couch. The diary did not have a lock on it. How could anyone have any real secrets placed in dairy with no lock? It would probably not happen. Most of the contents of the diary must be trivial at most. If a person has important information, it will be locked away. Plus, if the information in the diary were tragic or devastating, wouldn't she have placed it in a locked room? It would certainly make up for the fact there was no lock on the book. She could have taken it with her. That would stand to reason, if the book had anything inside she were afraid of him reading, she would have taken the diary with her.

"Susan?" Lloyd called out, and there was no answer. She must be gone. He peeked out the apartment door and down the hall. She was nowhere to be seen. If he were going to take a look into the diary then he needed to get it done quickly.

The diary was lying on the bed. Lloyd made care to not disturb anything in the room, and he moved very silently through the room, much the same manner a cat burglar may move. Once more he admired the teeth along the edges of the book. He opened the first page. There was manufactured print there wrapped by an ornate border.

"Warning. The Contents of This Diary Are Private. Enter At Your Own Risk"

Lloyd smirked and opened to the center of the diary. The pages were blank. "She must have just started this diary." He flipped back to first quarter of the dense book, and still, nothing written. Flipping the pages, he fanned through until there were no pages to left. None had writing. "Hunh." Disgusted, he slammed the diary, and in doing so, received a paper cut on his index finger. He yelped in pain and sucked on the end of his finger. A spot of his blood shined on one of the fangs.

His finger was bleeding far more than it should have been, "Geesh!" Backing out of the bedroom, more in a panic now, the stealth of the cat burglar had vanished, he turned and dashed into the bathroom. Cold water seemed to sooth the burning, but did very little to slow down the bleeding. Blood and water mixed, running over his hand. He raised his hand before him and noticed the blood running through the lines of his palm. Something struck him. There were many lines etched in red, yet a few stood out. He could make out a series of lines falling into a pattern, something he had seen before, something he knew well. There were two choppy circles, a couple of dashes, and a zipper of jagged peaks and valleys. All together it made visage of a skulls face in his palm, smiling not with normal teeth, but the same teeth which wrapped around the edge of the diary.

Lloyd grabbed a towel and wiped his palm clean. He found a band aid in the medicine cabinet and stopped the bleeding of his finger. He mused, "She got me. She got me. She baited me with a diary that has nothing in it and I fell for it. Worst, she will know I looked in it when she sees the blood on the edge." He saw a bottle of peroxide on the medicine shelf, "Of course, maybe I can remove it. There wasn't that much on it."

With the bottle of peroxide and a towel, he made haste to the bedroom once more. Once inside he froze. The small spot of blood was no more; now it was much worse. Blood traced around each tooth around the book. The fangs stood out in a most horrific fashion now.

There was a scent in the air, a smell Lloyd had not enjoyed since his youth. It was the perfect combination of bacon, eggs, toast, and coffee. Not since his mother had been alive had he known the perfect balance of these fragrances. She was singing. His mother was singing, as she always did when making breakfast in that farm house kitchen he had grown up in. Her voice was as loud and clear as though she were in the room with him. And there she was.

Lloyd was watching his mother cook and sing on a bright beautiful morning. There was a young boy sitting at the breakfast table, and Lloyd recognized he was looking upon himself, as though his memory were now a movie. Mesmerized by the visions, Lloyd reached out and spoke to his mother, "Mom?" his voice was cracked and weak. "Mom?" With a lump in his throat, he made another attempt, "I'm over here mom."

She did not answer. If only he could touch her, would she turn? He did, but she did not seem to feel it. "Mom, it's me. Lloyd boy. You can't hear me can you?" She never answered, she only continued to sing. There were tears beginning to form in his eyes. "I'm sorry mom. I'm sorry about what happened, in the end. If I had know you had so little time left…" She only sang, "Good morning, good morning to the Lloyd boy."

It's mysterious how a person can laugh and smile all at once as Lloyd was doing now, "I never told you how much I loved that song. I had forgotten all about it." She placed the breakfast on the table, "I never told you how much you meant to me. I thought I had time, more time…" Lloyd stepped in front of her, "I'm trying to tell you now. Can't you hear me?"

Her voice became distant, and the entire kitchen with her in it shrank away into a bubble which floated through the air. "NO!" Lloyd yelled as tried to catch the bubble. It floated down to the diary which opened perfectly between the seams of the teeth, and the diary sucked it in and closed. "Wha…" but Lloyd could not finish his sentence as the second vision assaulted him.

Lloyd saw himself on a bicycle racing down a lone country road, a beautiful German Sheppard keeping pace beside him. Lloyd called out to the vision, "Bear! Look at you go boy!" The tears rolled down Lloyd's cheeks, "I miss you, Bear. You were a good friend."

The vision shrank to a bubble and was swallowed by the diary. Memories with full sensory detail began to assault Lloyd in rapid succession, each and every one suffering finality between the teeth of the diary. Lloyd was seated on the floor against the wall, dozens of glowing bubbles drifting away from him into the fanged book, and he was helpless but to watch, entranced. He did not hear the front door open and close as the last few bubbles were eaten. He could hear Susan calling his name, but he made no effort to answer.

She walked into the bedroom and said, "Oh my."

Lloyd looked up to her and said, "I must be going crazy. I am going craz… loosing my mind."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Lloyd suddenly charged from the floor and grabbed the diary; he noticed the teeth around the text block no longer were traced by blood. The teeth were perfectly clean, as if the diary had just been bought new. "What is this thing?" he asked.

"It's just a diary. I hope you didn't read it."

"What are you trying to pull? There is nothing in this thing to read," and he opened it midway, ready to flash the wordless pages at her; only now the pages were full writ, in blood. "I don't understand… it was empty…" He began to read the words. "These are my memories in here. My memories are written here in blood."

Susan only stood silently, motionless.

Lloyd began to sweat, "I don't know what this thing is. Susan, don't touch this book. I don't know what is happening, but you need to stay away from this book. It has some kind of power or magic. It has to be destroyed." Grasping a page high in the corner he pulled down, a rip started on the edge of the page, and he immediately contorted in pain, dropping the diary to floor and clutching his own shoulder. There was a blood stain on his shirt soaking through from the shoulder he had clasped. He pulled his collar out over the slope of his arm and saw the skin was cut - no not cut - torn.

Susan asked, "What are you doing, Lloyd?"

He took a lighter from his pocket and pulled the diary up from the floor where he had dropped it. With a flame he touched the bottom edge of the spine, smoke began to roll up the edge of the diary. Again Lloyd cried out in pain as smoke also rolled up from the cuff of his pants. He dropped the diary and fell to floor. After pulling up his pants cuff, he saw a second degree burn stretched up his left calf.

Susan leaned down picked the diary up and said to Lloyd, "You need to stop now."

"Stop what? Put that diary down, Susan. It's dangerous."

She smiled, "I don't see anything dangerous. It's just a book, Lloyd." She opened it and began to read silently.

Lloyd asked, "What are you doing?"

"This is all so interesting. Your life has been something of a bizarre journey, hasn't it?"

"What's going on here? You can't read that. You have no right."

"Well, I kind of do, Lloyd. I kind of do."

Lloyd stood, "You're crazy. I don't know what's happening, but I have had enough," and turned to the door, headed out.

She took a page and began to tear. Lloyd fell against the wall screaming in pain.

"I really don't want to do it this way," she said.

Blood now dripped down his arm, "What do you want? What's this all about?"

"I just want to read it, Lloyd. I want to get to know you better." She stepped into the living quarters again and motioned at the couch. "Please, sit. Relax."

Lloyd sat on the couch, but he could hardly relax. "What do you want? Why are you doing this?"

Susan was too busy reading to answer, "This is interesting. You state in here that some cultures punish a thief by chopping their hand off, therefore they cannot use the hand anymore and they cannot steal with it again. It says you agree with this punishment. Would you say that is accurate?"

Lloyd grimaced in pain, holding his shoulder, "What do you want from me?"

She pinched the page as if she were ready to tear it again; Lloyd flinched in fear, and she asked, "It says you agree with that punishment for a thief, would you say that is accurate?"

"Yeah. I guess so. Yes. It certainly stops them from ever doing it again."

"Wow," she said. "Interesting indeed, because if we go back here," and she flipped back in the book, "I read of an incident when you were eight years old and you stole a skateboard from a kid you didn't even know at the park."

"What?"

"You don't remember taking the skate board? Would you like to see it happen again? I can show you."

Lloyd shook in fear, "No, I don't want to see. I took the skate board. I remember." Lloyd shot his arms forward in front of him and screamed, his fingers gnarled and twisted. The pain subsided and he said, "I can't move my hands. I can't feel anything in my hands. I can't move my fingers."

Susan said, "Yes. I suppose you will never steal another skate board will you."

"I was only eight years old."

"You made the judgment, Lloyd. Not me." She continued to read.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

She said, "You should relax, Lloyd. It's going to be a long night. We are reading it all, it's a very interesting diary."

The sun set, and windows grew dark in the tiny apartment. Susan had been reading the hours away, instructing Lloyd's own verses to him. She sighed as she noticed there were only a couple of pages left. "Ah, pooh. We are almost at the end. Not much left. It's been a good read, don't you think?"

Lloyd was leaning back on the couch, but anyone who knew him would not recognize him. He was extremely gaunt, the flesh around the sockets of his eyes were sunk in, and most of his hair had fallen from his head. His head quivered on his neck, and his gaze roamed around the room. He settled his eyes on Susan, and she never looked better. Her lips were rosy, and fresh. Her hair seemed thicker, and shiny with much vibrancy.

"Susan…" he mumbled, "Susan, what is this all about?"

Susan closed the diary and said, "Is it not clear, Lloyd? I thought it would be so clear."

He coughed and shook his head, "I don't know… what is happening."

She held a finger up at him, to gesture for a moment of wait, and pulled a chair up next to the couch. She sat and faced him, "Lloyd, you have spent a life digging into other people, constantly picking them apart and judging them, just to validate yourself and make yourself look good against them." She tilted her head curiously and said, "Don't you know this is the most powerful witchcraft there is? To tear another person's life down in order to build yours up? Didn't you know that?"

Lloyd almost laughed, but did not have the strength, "You are crazy."

"No, no, no," she said with enthusiasm, "it's true, Lloyd. It is the most powerful witchcraft of all. It's so powerful even mere people can use it, as you have. It's a source of power. Unfortunately, it's sad to say, in it's most effective use, it's wasted by use of you humans. And this is a shame, because you have been very good at it."

"Wha… what do you mean by… us humans?"

She laughed, "You are human, aren't you?"

"So are you."

She caressed his face with her palm, "No, no, sweetie. No I'm not. It's witchcraft honey. I'm a witch."

Lloyd went into a roll of thunderous coughing which ended with a spittle of blood oozing from his lip. He looked at his shaky and gnarled hands, "You're devouring me. You're devouring my soul, I can feel it."

She nodded, "See, I knew you would understand."

She stood from her chair and moved it back against the wall. Susan opened the diary, "Okay, let's finish this thing, Lloyd."

He shook his head and moaned, "No, please. No more."

"Can't stop here, Lloyd. I saved the best for last. I see here, things did not end so well with your mother."

"No," he pleaded.

"Your father had passed away, and she married another man. Seems you did not approve. Did you know she had found some peace and happiness with this other man?"

"Stop."

"He cherished her, Lloyd. He never tried to take the place of your father. He only felt fortunate she would have him after loosing someone she loved as much as your father."

"Don't say… please stop." Tears were starting to well up in his hollowed eyes.

"And you told her she was, and I quote you here, 'dead to you,' and you never spoke to her again. Is that right?"

Lloyd could only blubber through his tears.

"This woman," Susan said, "Used to sing to you while making breakfast, every morning, just so you would know how much she loved you. How could you say such a thing as, 'you are dead to me,' to such a beautiful woman Lloyd? Not to mention, this wasn't just some woman, it was your mother."

Lloyd sniffed, "Why are you doing this to me?"

Susan smiled through her rosy cheeks, her eyes sparkling and blue, "Lloyd, even a witch has to look her best."

She went back to the diary, "What would you say about a man who would say such a thing to his mother?"

Lloyd fell back on the couch, his body convulsing as he choked on his blood.

From high above the apartment building where Lloyd Drum laid dying, the calm voice of Rod Serling permeated the night. "To quote Dickinson 'I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word.' Just another excerpt from the diary of the Twilight Zone."