*This is a fanfic diary-esque series where the main character is none other than a ship child of the Creepypasta characters Laughing Jack (created by Snuffbomb) and Jason the Toymaker (created by Krisantyl). Creepypasta is not a show or a book series, but internet horror stories. You can look up the characters I mentioned here to learn more about them or any other character in the Creepypasta fandom. Or just look up “Creepypasta” to learn more. Raisa is my OC. This is under my folder titled “Creepypasta stuff”. Gacha Club character designs are under my forum titled “My character designs<33[2]”. I’m going to try and come up topics as best as I can for this character to write about. Now, with that being said…enjoy!*

4/17/1955

Hello,

This is the very first time that I have a diary. I heard from some other kids at school that people start their diaries with “dear” as if they’re writing a letter to someone, but if by any chance this is being given to someone, then I think I should start and end this like I’m talking to someone. I don’t know, maybe somebody will read this one day or maybe my diary is alive and I don’t know it. I’m not sure how this works, but I guess I should write down stuff about me and how I feel.

My name is Raisa Accardi and I am eight years old. I live with my fathers in an abandoned orphanage. One of my fathers is a magical clown who can make any child his best friend. The other looks like a human but isn’t. He makes special toys with powers, toys that can do things no other toy can. The human-ish one turns children into toys. The clown one takes children to his carnival. I’ve been to the carnival before, it’s old, but I like it.

My parents take children because they are saving them. They are taking them from bad places and making them happier. It has always been my job as their daughter to look for kids and bring the children to them. We’re helping them. That’s what they always told me.

But I started hearing the children talk to me. They never used to talk to me before. They say that my fathers are bad. That my fathers hurt them. They say a lot of scary things to me. They yell. They scream. They cry.

I told my parents about them and they said to ignore the kids, but they’re always there, telling me those bad things. So my human-ish father got me this diary so I can write down my feelings. Right now I am feeling fine.

I hope I can go to the carnival today. That would be fun. Maybe the children will be nice and let me play with them.

I have to go now. I’ll be back soon.

Goodbye,

Raisa Accardi.