[ WP ] You 're walking through the forest when you find a basketball sized hole that seemingly has no bottom . You put your ear in the hole to listen and you hear what sounds like a million people screaming .

October 14th, 1984 
 Went out for a nice stroll through the back woods of my property today. I found a strange hole. Looked to be about a foot long, and I could n't quite see the bottom of it. I tried to touch the bottom with one leg, but I reached nothing. Then I heard the sound. It sounded like millions of screaming people, however distant. I wonder what this could be. I was scared, left motionless and silent as I sat and listened for what felt like hours for any change in this mortifying symphony of blood curdling screams. 
 
 Nothing changed. I wondered just how long this had been here. Strange. I went back home. 
 
 October 21st, 1985 
 It's been a little more than a year since I visited the hole. I sat quietly as I listened. The screams were louder than I remember. Maybe the end of the hole was closer than I thought? 
 In this past year I've thought about the hole. I've wondered if maybe the screaming I'm hearing is real. Sometimes I hear the screams in my daily life, however faint. They've been louder as I heard them these days, which is I went to visit. I wondered what's happening in there. I went home. 
 
 March 7th, 1992 
 It's my 42nd birthday, today. As I grow older I celebrate less and less and after my recent diagnosis, I hardly celebrate at all. I had n't heard the sound of the hole in my daily life since news of my illness, so I took today to go visit. My family has grown and gone, and here I have become but a shell of a man. This journal is my only friend these days. My daughter stopped talking to me after we argued over my medical bills and the importance of her schooling. After losing her mother in'88, I know she did n't want to lose her father as well. Such a young age to experience this level of sadness. I feel for her. I miss her. I regret going against her wishes and turning down treatment to pay for her college. Maybe she would still be in my life. I need a light right about now. 
 
 As I lay next to the hole and write this entry, I notice that the sound has gone. I hear silence in the hole as I hear silence in the halls of my home. I cried. I have loved and lost, and now, more than ever, I wanted to relate to the screams of those voices inside the hole. I'll sit here a while. 
 
 March 7th, 1992 - 2nd Entry 
 I heard a voice through the hole. It said, repeatedly,'' Go Home.'' The timbre of the voice was dry and harsh, yet not discernible from male or female. I assume male. Stranger things have happened, but I believe I'm now hearing things. I went home. 
 
 June 6th, 1992 
 The screams are back in my daily life. I've just left the hospital, due to a collapse after returning home the other day. Nothing broken. Just wanted test work, strange they would ask for tests considering I turned down treatment. I guess a good insurance policy really comes in handy. Stephanie called the other day to wish me Happy Birthday, and to see if I had n't died, she was distant as always. I explained to her my life insurance had helped with the medical costs. She was relieved. I apologized for my actions, and begged her forgiveness. `` I'll think about it, dad.'' she said. Stubborn to the end, just like her mother. I wo n't tell her the good news from the most recent cancer tests just yet. I'd like to tell her at her graduation ceremony. I think I'll visit the hole again, to say thank you. I'm not sure why or how I got better after turning down treatment, though. Maybe it just was n't my time, or maybe my wife is watching me saying I should n't give up just yet. However, I can say with certainty that whatever I hear from that hole, I will trust. The screams are intrusive, yet inviting. Annoying, yet soothing; everything about them should make a man go mad. But I've learned to live with them. Appreciate whatever it is they are. I've started to question whether or not I'm the only one who hears the sounds of the hole, or if it truly is bottomless. I'll take my chances for now and still keep it a secret. I'm not one to push my luck. 

