This online diary records the real experiences of me being harmed by the evil spirit raised by my ex-wife, which are happening to me every day in 2025. I will write in the form of a diary. This is my first writing, and perhaps it will also be my last. If there is no update for a period of time, it probably means that I have passed away...
This morning felt quieter than usual.
I woke naturally, without the alarm, and the only sound in the room was the steady tick-tock of the clock. My daughter had already been taken to school early by her grandfather, and the dining table downstairs lay bare, as if no one had ever touched it.
It has been four months since the divorce.
My eight-year-old son is far away in the United States with my ex-wife; my ten-year-old daughter stayed with me. She's still young—often waking in the middle of the night, frightened, running to my side. All I can do is hold her and coax her back to sleep.
Work hasn't been going well. My income has dropped sharply compared to before, and at forty, my health has started to falter. I often feel a tightness in my chest, a dull weight pressing against me. Life passes in a blur, each day sinking deeper, as though I'm being pulled into a bottomless pit.
I stood at the window, a cup of hot water in hand, gazing at the sky. Heavy clouds hung low, blocking out the sunlight completely. The air felt unnaturally still—so quiet that even the neighborhood dogs had stopped barking.
And then it struck me: this silence wasn't ordinary.
The house was too quiet, far too quiet—
as if it were waiting for something.
Not peace.
Not calm.
But the storm that was about to come.