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WHEREAREYOU
WHEREAREYOU
WHEREAREYOUWHEREAREYOU
WEARAREYOUHEREAREYOU
WHEREARYOU
notthere justcops alway cops
don’t know where fuck FUCK
she’s back I can get her Ican get her
voices say I have to. The voices say if I kill her then I can go see my family. So I have to killher kill cutting cutting cutting
WHERE
ARE
YOU
ALEX
?
I
HAVE
TO
KILL
JUDITH
Pressed it in deep. Pretty sure I made him bleed. I dunno. It was dark. But I couldn’t kill him yet. He hasn’t suffered enough. He took everything away from me. Everything. I don’t have anything. And he still have everything. So I have to take it all away. So he can be like me. So he can pay. So I can sleep.
I didn’t want to make her scream. She didn’t have to die. It’s his fault, not mine. I’m just doing what I have to. I’m just making him understand. He didn’t have to write it. If he hadn’t, she wouldn’t have to die.
Cutting cutting cutting. I must get back to cutting.
And I’ve realized I’m not crazy. I recognize the voice they speak in. It’s just me. Distorted, but me. I’m not schizo or psycho, hearing things that aren’t there. The whispers… They’re just ideas. And they’re the right ones.
Someone has to take this into his own hands. Someone has to stop anyone else from getting hurt. Someone has to do whatever is necessary to stop anymore death. Someone has to end this.
That someone is me. And it starts with whoever the fuck killed my family.
A liar. And a murderer. He writes his stupid story on his fake blog and just drops it out there onto the Internet without a care in the world. Does “Damien” or whatever his real name is even care about what might happen if someone believed in his shit? Yes I understand that what Nat said is true and Harry must have had some mental issues my family was unaware of. But all these Slenderverse writers or whoever the fuck they are? They have some level of guilt in all this to. Damien didn’t think about what could happen if a mentally ill person possibly believed in his stupid story.
Does no one else care about the danger these people are creating? Why has no one else stood up and let them know that their silly little games are making real problems? Someone needs to do this.
And sometimes, I can hear what the whispers are actually saying. Sometimes I think what the whispers say is the best way to stop “Damien” and his friends from destroying more lives. That’s when I get really scared.
Everything was going so damn well. We’d talked. We went out. We laughed. I actually laughed. First time since the crazy took over. And then… she offered me a smoke.
I don’t remember everything. I started hallucinating again. Nat swears the weed wasn’t laced or anything but there’s no way what I saw was real. More faceless men, more waving tentacles. I was in the bathroom when they first struck, looking in the mirror. Saw something move behind me. Turned to the doorway, Skinny Man standing there. I charged him but he was gone.
Next thing I recall, Nat is in front of me screaming to drop it. I hear the knife hit the kitchen tiling. She said she had to go. She left me there. Nat called back a bit later. Said she was terrified. I understood. I’d have done the same thing if she went psycho. She told me I had the knife to my throat, babbling on about wanting to quiet the whispers. She said my eyes burned. I told her I didn’t remember any of it. We both wrote it off as an awful trip.
I lied to her, though. I didn’t want to worry her. I do remember what the whispers said. I’ve been hearing them since she left.
Some sort of old people’s dance. Like… a waltz or something. They were all prettied up, like they were at some fancy party or whatever. Dad in a tux, mother in a pretty dress. But they were just in our living room, dancing alone in the night. I’d gotten up to go to the bathroom. I was probably ten then. I don’t remember for sure. I think it was their anniversary. I do remember that I walked up to them all confused because I didn’t understand why they were dancing.
My dad turned to me, and his face was gone. I stumbled back, and they went back to dancing. My mom was dead, but dad just kept dancing with her body as I ran the other way.
Remember when I said sleeping didn’t work? Well… been working real well since then. Go to Subway, make paycheck, eat sandwich, go home, sleep, repeat. No nightmares. Heck, no dreams. Just darkness.
Nat will be here Tuesday. I really hope things go okay. I need help.
As soon as spring break rolls around. Hope she can help. I need her.
