my mummy bouhgt me a diary I really like it
I dunt really know how to write good yet tough
it has butterflies on it
I like butterflies and green creyons
I writted this with creyon
okay I have to go eat now there is meatballs
bye bye diarey
I heard mr. underbed again
he waches me sleep
mommy says there is nothing underbed
but I saw his hand tooking my teddy
i couldnt find teddy in morning
I cried a lot
he has hairy hands
mommy said she would get me a nitelight
I think she is lying
underbed is afraid of light
thats why he only comes at night
Mommy says I should get rid of my plushies. She says I am a big boy now. I am at second grade and do not need a nightlight either. She does'nt know about mr. Underbed. I haven't told anyone not even my friends. But he is real. I heard him breathe again last night and scratch the foot of bed
I'm really scared of him but I try to be a big boy and not be scared.
I cannot get up from bed at night. Or he will eat me
I dunno if I should really be afraid of mr. Underbed. He breathes really heavily and scratches the floor often.
It reminds me of our cat that died.
Maybe he is sick.
He wasn't there tonight.
And I even looked down
But he wasn't there.
The soccer game went really well. My team scored five times, and I even did one of the goals. Dad took me for a pizza after the match, we got my favourite: pepperoni!
I really should call that girl, Amanda. People say she likes me, and she DID give me her number.
Things are going pretty well.
It has been a year now today.
Amanda left me.
As it turns out she had been cheating on me.
The whole time.
What does he have that I don't? A bigger dick?
What a bitch she was.
Ugly as hell without makeup anyhow.
Two whole fucking years wasted, and hundreds of dollars on movie tickets and gifts.
I even stole from Dad.
Just fuck her.
I woke up
There is something under my bed
Mom took me to a psychiatrist's place again today. Never should have told her about Mr. Underbed, she thinks I have an issue. They all think I am crazy. I don't want to throw away the crayons and plushies and nightlights. I need them, he is afraid of them. The psychiatrist said I just have some sort of mental clinginess to childhood or something, but that's not true! I am going to try and take a picture of him next night. Maybe then they will believe me.
I really need to get some sleep. I haven't slept properly in… I don't even know how long.
He doesn't leave me alone. When I moved so I could study in college, he followed. I had to buy so many nightlights.
I need to remind myself to buy more crayons too. He shredded a bunch of the pages I used to make the circle. The walls need new pages too.
Plushies seem alright, at least.
This just cannot go on. I am a nervous wreck. I had a girlfriend at one point, invited her over. She stayed for the night.
I didn't hear him the whole night.
And was more afraid than ever.
It is worse when he is silent. Even when that raspy breath is wheezing in my ear it is better.
Because then at least I know where he is.
She left the morning after.
I got a new psychiatrist. The old one didn't help. This one believes me.
They say Mr. Underbed could be something called a tulpa. A figment of my imagination, made real.
If that was so,
then why doesn't he leave when I don't think of him?
There were large clawmarks on the ceiling when I woke up today, just above my head.
I think he is getting used to me scaring him with all this junk.
He is more active at nights than ever.
I could swear someone was standing over me last night.
i locked myself in the closet
he got out
SCP-████ was recovered in the suburbs of █████████, in an apartment flat owned by T█████ ██████████. Upon recovery of SCP-████, the remains of T█████ ██████████ were found in the closet. They had seemingly died of sleep deprivation, and were found holding a diary. The entries in the diary detailed a way of containing the entity known as "Mr. Underbed", which is assumed to be SCP-████. Research into the notes is ongoing to succesfully contain SCP-████.