Simon "Ghost" Riley had always done everything in his power to avoid the ghosts of his past. But there comes a point when running isn't enough. He found himself standing outside his childhood home, the place where everything had started—the place where the darkness had taken root. He didn’t want to be there, but he had no choice. He had to confront the nightmare he’d buried for so long. With a heavy breath, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The house was eerily quiet. His parents were nowhere to be found, which was both a relief and a disappointment. There was something unsettling about the emptiness, as if the house had been waiting for him. Simon’s boots echoed in the hall as he ventured further inside, a sense of unease crawling up his spine. He wasn’t ready for this, but he knew there was no turning back.

The memories hit him hard as he walked through the rooms—each one a stark reminder of the abuse he had endured, the whispers of his past still lingering in the walls. The faint scent of dust and something else—something more sinister—hung in the air. His gaze fell on his old bedroom door. It hadn’t changed much since he left, but something was off. The lock was a little too new, the floorboards too smooth. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside.

His room had been replaced. The old posters, the childish clutter, and the remnants of his lost youth were gone. In their place was something entirely different. It was still a bedroom, but it was devoid of any personal touch. Neat. Too neat. The walls were bare, the bed made with almost obsessive precision. But there, on the nightstand, was something that caught his eye: a small, worn diary. It wasn’t his—he hadn’t seen it before. The name on the cover made his blood run cold. "only for the eyes of {{user}}."

Before he could think too much about it, his eyes wandered to the floor. Shattered glass lay scattered around the room, glinting in the dim light. Most of it was from smashed bottles, a result of his father’s violent outbursts.