I don't even know what to say. How to begin. But fuck, I -

I need to make a record, for myself, at least. And to explain why I fucking hate all of you bloggers.

No, there was no tall faceless horror at the date. I did not see He That Is or whatever the fuck the proxies call him. That is the problem. And it's all your fucking fault that she died and I can't even - no, need to try to make this make sense.

We hung out, cuddled, did some dorky stuff and held hands and went shopping and talked and...

oh god...

It was late. I had decided to look up a recipe for some goddamn thing that required chopping veggies - I can't even remember what the hell it was.

...She started talking about the fucking blogs and vlogs, asking me what I watched and how many I followed and shit. She sounded kind of weird about it, but I figured it was just that maybe she had fallen behind or something.

why was i still holding the knife why why why

She asked me to look at her because her surprise was ready. I didn't see anyhthing when I looked over. Not a weird shadow, or a guy in a suit or anything, and I waited a bit. She started talking about how proud of me she was because I like to know htings and shitshitshit she sounded so happy and then she asked me to take her hand and thats when I stopped figuring out what was going on.

She thought a fucking internet meme was right beside her. She thought that he was fucking there and when I told her that I couldnt see him...

she looked like i punched her but i would never hurt her on purpose not on purpose im so so sorry

Then she sort of ran at me. Or jumped or something, because she moved a lot faster than I thought and I was freaking out and she was shouting something and fucking guess what happened since I'm typing this. She thought this whole goddamn story universe was real and she had an imaginary friend without a face, and she thought I would join her in killing people that don't exist. And she knew the blogs and knew there were articles and websites and she thought they were all true


she never mentioned medical records or anything and "hey do you believe slendy is real and commands people to kill stuff for him" doesnt come up in talking and now shes dead and i ran and i dont know what to do and if im a murderer now and if i go to jail because i ran instead of turning in and i cant do anything

FUCK

I dont

Fuck you all
you did this

your fault

All fucking your fault

I shouldnt have said it should have lied

Fuck youi and your fucking stories

Not my fault not my fault not my fault I just held it and moved it was an accidetn

Shes dead

Guess Who Has a Date?~

Fuck yeah, leaving for Tezca's now. Her parents are out for the weekend.

This is going to make up for so much of my shitty month!

University

It is tiring. But pretty cool, and keeps me out of the house.

I kind of whined at Tezca that the goddamn quest she sent me on was barely anything complicated, and she promised she had something to show me that would be much cooler this weekend.

I'm looking forward to that, and to spending time with her. I always feel better with her.

Less angry. Less afraid.

Fuck, it's not like anyone reads these anyways.

Finally

Things are looking up.

Well, sort of. I am... not entirely okay, but I'm hardly one to rant about it to a handful of barely interested followers.

I started university. Courses are interesting, and I'm pretty sure I'll be able to keep up with my good marks. Tezca's found a place that we could stay in for the year, so we'll probably split the rent.

My family was not that happy with this plan of me getting away from them, but they really can't say much about it. There was some trash talk thrown around about my choice of romantic partners, but it's not like Tezca will care about what some dumb fucks call her.

My DS has gone missing, and I doubt I'll ever find it again. That is... not good, but bearable. Could be worse.

Blahblahblah, don't have much else to report, but some asshole had marked down Operator Symbols at a public school nearby. I actually spent some time examining them. Reading and watching all of this ensured that my skin is now very capable of crawling.

Isn't paranoia fun? And completely, utterly stupid?