Shit. Now I’m rambling again. My point is this: I’m no stranger to death. We’re old friends, he and I. At the very least, we’re acquaintances. We recognize each other at the party and perhaps we nod in passing. I’ve watched people die. I’ve held them in my arms and had my hands turn sticky from their blood and felt the warmth drain out of them.
The Girl on the Glider - Brian Keene, Keith Minnion

This is pretty good so far. It's written in journal form, and is about a man who is certain he is going crazy because it seems as if his house is haunted.