Laura & Carrie’s Missing Diary Page Contest Entries

Last month we ran our Laura Palmer/Carrie Page Missing Diary Page contest.

Today — finally! — we’re running the rest of the entries.

Please enjoy the fruits of the labours of this tremendously talented fan community!


Carrie Page’s First Diary Entry

by forevereverie

Dear Diary

November 11, 1989

Nurse is making me try to write in this book but i dont what to write. Who would pay money for a blank book like this with no story in it? THAT is crazy. Well now i have my first story and i am calling it She Is A Bitch.  She says it should it be pretty easy going seeing i was named after one. She said that with such a God awful look of spite in her face i went straight to Doctor because he told me when i was found and didn’t remember nothing I was named after a character in a book. Now i hate it here more than anything now.

i know the hole story now and those sickos they had a secret little contest to pick who i was going to be. i thought i was named after a person not a piece of white trash. Some smartass fucker thought it was a sign that i had some mouldy  torn diary page in my hand when the trooper found me in that field. I should have known something was up when i tried to find a book with my name in it at the library and the lady said she never heard of one.  Why didn’t they name me Summer Field? i’d rather be named after a douche than a blank piece of paper.

i don’t have a home but i’m going to make one and nobody is going to smash my head in ever again and i’m glad i don’t know how all of these ugly scars got here. They can all fuck off. i know I can sneak out of here. i think i used to be smarter “before” because sometimes i think i am remembering things but i’m to stupid to understand them like the time i was supposed to fill out the papers for my new birth certificate and BOOM the paper changed and i saw a whole bunch of numbers i had wrote down appear and felt really happy about writing them down proper, and then they disappeared and i felt stupid again. i was almost able to read a name at the bottom but it went away so fast. Anyway i can’t remember what the name was anyway, because I’m stupid.

i know that I used to be smart because I remembered it for a few seconds.  I will sneak out of here and I won’t die in the desert trying like they say people have. I think there full of shit and there’s a ice cream truck 2 miles away.

9 months in here. I could a had a baby by now but instead I am gonna birth myself. Hahahahaha!!!


Laura’s Missing Diary Page

by Sarah Percival

J just called he wants to meet later, I am going to have to tell him tonight that its over. I can no longer carry on hurting someone who I love so much, I’m just going carry on using him and letting him down, so I have to be brave find courage, a little white line should give me what I need.

I love cocaine it calms me and let’s my mind expand in ways I only find in dreams. I see myself in the red room again, dressed in black, I seem much older. There’s a man in a black suit sitting in the chair next to me, I have to tell him something, I walk over and bend down to whisper in his ear, he’s very handsome and has a kind face, I get the sudden urge to kiss him and I do, it’s soft and warm, like cherry pie. I whispered gently in his ear what I had to say……..
“When you see me again, it won’t be me”!!!!
I see Bob he’s angry, snarling and spitting in rage.
“You filthy cunt what are you doing”?
I just smile and laugh, and there’s this blue light and it engolves me, it’s blinding bright and an Angel appears and she’s so incredibly beautiful. The handsome man places a hand on my shoulder, and I shudder with emotion. The angel decends down to me, and for the first time in years I feel safe and protected!!!.
Another dream only this time it was warm, safe. The handsome man must be Dale that the girl on my bed who said her name was Annie told me about. This is why I’m writing everything down, I can’t explain it all, and I don’t know what it all means, but maybe someday someone will read this and fathom it all out, Bob, the red room, maybe this Dale could be the one to work it all out.
I’m scared, the darkness is taking over me and I can no longer control it, all I want to do is go and end it with J so I can go and see the others for a party. So little of me now is filled with shame or guilt. Now that I saw who Bob is using as his vessel I feel sick, why oh why was it him anybody else I might have handled, but that’s the ultimate betrayal!!. And that is why I have to die, I can no longer live as Laura with this life, I have to go although I’m not sure why………
J is here


A Page from the Diary of Carrie Page

by Elizabeth Shorten

(This was found on the floor of the lone bedroom of the former residence of Carrie Page, by Officer Miguel Lorenzo, who was dispatched to the location after Kristi MacNicolls, a co-worker of Ms. Page’s called to say that Ms. Page had not reported to for work 7 days and was not answering the phone.  When Ms. MacNicolls went to the known residence of Ms. Page, no one answered the door and she claimed there was a foul odor coming from the house. We are still trying to identify the corpse.)

I dreamed of trees again.  BIG trees. Green trees. Nothing like what we have in this dustbowl here.  They were so tall. They seemed friendly and full of life. I walked among them and felt safe. I could breath.  It was safe. They were safe. But as I walked, they got darker. I felt like they were smothering me. Dark as night the trees.

Why the fuck am I dreaming of trees?

My feet still hurt from that goddamn 12 hour shift I did two days ago. My blisters got blisters.  Not enough epsom salts in this god forsaken state to sooth them. Any wonder I can sleep at all with the pains shooting up and down.

And I can still smell the shit from the men’s room. Reg’s got to bring in somebody to clean that shit.  I don’t care what the fuck he says or what the hell Kristi will or will not do, I am NOT cleaning that shithole any more.  He can put a gun to my head and pull the trigger; that would be a relief from cleaning up the crap crusted around the bowl. It’s bad enough serving up “Judy’s Special of the Day;” cleaning the remains from some ass’s ass.

I have to get out of here.  Fuck Rob. Knight on a white horse. Joker on an ass is more like it. There is no white knight or horse. I got to get out of here.  Find me a place that’s not dust and dirt. Order. I need to breath. I can’t choke back any more. I can’t keep…Need to breath.

Where are the trees?  I gotta get out of here.  Where are the TREES?!?!?


The Last Page of Laura Palmer’s Diary

by Rachel Stewart


Dear Diary,

Another dream.

It happened again. A blur of red curtains and zig zagged tile. Every word I spoke or thought came out slurred and backwards. I wasn’t myself – BUT I WAS. I was…older, looking how I feel inside NOW.  But it was different, like I wise. Like an owl – or the Log Lady. On the inside, I felt warm, like my heart was on fire.

There was the black suit man again – and he was older too – and seeking answers. And I was the one that knew the answers. He no longer felt like a stranger, but someone I had known my whole life. Or perhaps we knew each other in another life. Everything felt SO familiar, like the words are right on the tip of your tongue and still won’t come. I knew what he wanted to know. I walked over to him after what felt like eternities and whispered in his ear again. I didn’t tell him my secret. I told him his.

Then everything felt like an earthquake and I was being lifted up into the air, into pure darkness and I started screaming. Why did I open my mouth? Why must I be the one that holds these secrets, ones I can’t even understand? When I catch a glance of myself in the mirror, I’m not sure I know who that girl is anymore – or if I ever knew her to begin with.



Turn of the Page – Glimpse of Carrie’s Life in Odessa

by Robert Giles

It’s so fucking hot today. I can barely breathe and of all days the AC decides to act up and turn on and off whenever it feels like it. I think for a moment that I should check it out in case there’s faulty wiring then laugh because it would be better to let this shithole burn to the ground. It would actually help and save me the trouble of disposing of Gary’s body.

I part the curtains and look outside and look up at the utility pole. Was I half-expecting to see electricity shooting out in a shower of sparks? It was more likely a brown out to conserve energy during the heat wave. Good fucking timing, because Gary’s body is going to start getting ripe pretty soon and I had to come to a decision on whether or not to cut and run. I better decide soon because the rest of Gary’s crew are going to start to look for him.

What I should really do is call Billy. He was dangerous and quick tempered. He had a warrant out for his arrest last I heard, but he hated Gary guts and that could work in my favor. Fuck, right when I got my life in some kind of order, started laying off the drugs and getting a steady job, I fall in with of the biggest dealers in Odessa. So much for cleaning up my act. I have only had a taste now and then, not busting rails like I did in my younger years. Seems like another life somehow. The memories are there, but sometimes it feels like they being played back in my mind by someone else.

I have these dreams where I am in old theater. I have good seats in the balcony. Down on the stage is a tall man in a tuxedo and he is waving his hand in front of the movie screen. Every time his hand passes over the scenes changes, but it’s always of me as a teenage girl living a very trouble life. Anyway, the memories I am processing in these dreams are ones I have memory of but in the dreams they are transmissions coming from the tuxedo guy. I do remember seeing pictures of a white house, a 2 story and a woman lives there who knows who I am although I don’t recognize her. It feels like she is trying to find me and the way she sometimes removes her face terrifies me. In this moment, I know I should be thankful to the tuxedo guy because I realize he is keeping me safe.

I wake up from these dreams, slide out my bed and into my life with a sense of purpose to make things better for myself. If I can get out of this in one piece, I have to try harder to not fuck up so much.


Written by 25YL

This article was written either by a Guest Author or by an assortment of 25YL staff

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