[center][fancypost= borderwidth=0px; width: 407px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9pt;]ℳanhattan's Diary
Upon entering a dimly lit room you are met with a bare mattress, and nothing much else. The only source of light comes from the bright blue glow of an old television with a mess of wires connecting it to a chunky rectangular box with a slot in the middle. With nothing else to display the TV will continue to cast its loud blue screen which jiggled with a line of static every so often. A few feet away sits a faded cardboard box. Peer inside and one would find neat stacks of blank VHS tapes, the only one with a label sitting directly on top. "Entry #1" is drawn out in careful letters across the crisp white label taped to it. The size looks to match that of the aforementioned slot.
Entry #1
Entry #2
Entry #3