The Journal

God damn Lizzie. She wakes me up this early in the morning, telling me she's found something. She knows I like my sleep, and yet she does this anyway. I tell her where to meet, because we sure as hell aren't doing this here.

We meet up outside some McDonald's that has long since closed up (open twenty-four/seven my ass), and we sat down on one of the picnic tables they have outside. Lizzie was holding onto the diary we got from Albright's house, and the moment our asses were planted on the table she handed it to me and told me to read.

The first half was nothing special. Just things a girl in high school would faun over; boys, schoolwork, dances, shit like that. Nothing out of the ordinary, and not worth posting on here. Some things should remain private, and there are a couple things here that probably wouldn't hurt to leave untold.

It was right around the halfway mark that things got weird. Here's a sample:

“It's been three days since I've slept. I keep seeing HIM everywhere I go. This morning I saw HIM out the window and I thought my dad would've seen him because he was right there, but he acted like there was no one there. I think I'm going crazy. HE was standing right in the flower patch, how could he not see HIM? He was looking right at the flowers, for God's sakes! Am I the only one? Am I alone?”

That's the first mention of a HIM, and every single time she refers to HIM in all capitals. I don't understand the significance. And it just gets weirder from there. It's like this journal began monitoring her decreasing sanity.

The last entry is some fucked up shit. You know that rhyme from the Freddy Krueger movies, the one that is sung whenever the characters see a bunch of kids in white jumping rope? She made her own fucking rendition:

“OnE tWo, HE'S cOmINg foR YOU
ThREe foUr, nO PoINt locKiNG tHe dOOr
FIve sIX, No hElP fRoM thE CrUciFIX
SeVeN EiGHt, HE'LL gET YOU aSleEP oR aWakE
ninE tEN, NevER LIVe aGAin...







HE'S COMING FOR ME”


Talk about your mind fuck. I'm not sure if there's a pattern in the letters that are capitalized, but my guess is she was just gone in the mental sense when she wrote it. I looked up at Lizzie and she just had this look on her face that I can't even put into words. I flipped the page and the only thing that was left was a circle with an “X” in the center that I recognized only after Lizzie reminded me of the same one found in Victoria Krell's room.

That just confirmed it. Before we just had suspicion, but this journal proves it. We're dealing with the same guy.

We're going to put out a warning this afternoon. All families are to keep tabs on their kids at all times and let us know if they start acting unusual in their behaviors. I just wish we had a picture of the guy so people can look out for him, but all we really have are the drawings from Victoria's room, and I don't think that's enough. Unless we come across something else, all we can really say is for everyone to be careful. Police are on twenty-four hour patrol on the streets, so if something else happens, they'll be on call.

Somehow, I can't really feel too optimistic when I think about that...