Today...was a very....VERY hectic day. I still got a large bruises in two different places from this afternoon, as well as other bruises in all kinds of places. And I think my head was bleeding earlier. Well, I got a band aid over it so it should be good, but God do I have a headache. Who knew Proxies had such strong arms. But it's alright, I'm okay.
...I suppose I should explain.
I went outside in my Uncle Tim's backyard, since there was no way I was walking the streets with a gun like an idiot. There's a small field behind Uncle Tim's house with trees here and there, so the most a kid would be able to shoot is a couple of squirrels, but it's not like I planned on doing that anyways. There are some kids who live around here who bet they can shoot down birds. Yeah, kids take bb guns and practice shooting, I once had these two cousins who invited me over to watch them shoot some random crap around their backyard. They wanted to teach me how to shoot but my mother wouldn't let them. I bet she probably regrets that now. Now that I think about it, those kids may have been annoying, but they were awesome for introducing me to Space Balls. Best. Spoof. Ever.
Stalker Dude was probably nervous when I came outside with a gun, because it was hard to spot him. I had to wander around randomly a bit, making sure not to look too suspicious. (I guess as long as I'm not shooting anyone, or holding an-wait). However, no kid was out at the time, so I suppose I wasn't in too much danger. Finally, I saw some movement behind a small group of trees out in the open, and the moment I drew nearer, the fucker turn and stormed away like there was a hurricane. I almost forgot I had my uncle's gun in my hand, and he was a good fifteen yards when I realized just what I was holding. I was a stupid, dumb fuck. I was so....STUPID. UGH. Alright, prepare to laugh...
I shot the gun while still running.
Fucking idiot...who the hell does that?
The recoil was enough to make me trip. Luckily, I managed to hit him in the ankle, and I saw him trip before I went down, gaining myself some of those bruises I talked about. I feel sore just typing this. Let me say this, thank God for safety catches (that's what they're called right?)
I am really lucky I got his ankle, the guy tried getting back up and running again, but all he did was stumble and fall back down again. Looking back, I probably should of laughed, but I was too busy being in pain. Soon, I got up on my feet, Stalker Dude's still struggling on the ground. When I was a few yards away I noticed his entire body was shaking. It looked like he was having a panic attack or something. I jumped on his stomach and attempted to stop him hammering me. Remarkably enough, this skinny ass dude actually had quite the arm. I had to pull out my dad's pocketknife and give him a nice scar on his arm in order to calm him down ...Well, it didn't exactly calm him down like I would've liked but you get the idea. Actually...that scare was an accident....
As you can probably tell, this was my first earnest fight, but I'm proud to say I have wrestled with guys before ...When I was eight.
"Where's my mother?!" I asked him in a high pitched voice. The fucker probably would've laughed if he wasn't in pain too.
I remember holding the knife against his throat. It took all my will power to not kill the guy.
"WHERE IS SHE?"
Stalker Dude relaxed, I couldn't see his expressions since he was wearing a ski mask, but I sure hope he wasn't smiling. His eyes were a mix between green and brown, much like my mothers. Somehow, that made me even angrier. "Where is she?" I repeated.
"Told me about grandparent's house. Know nothing else."
This guy was a fucking Hallowed.
"Yeah, I kind of figured that out for myself, thanks. What about an address...?" Nothing, the guy didn't say a thing. "Anything?" He just stared back at me with those empty eyes of his. "Do you know anything at all?"
"Walter Street? Walter Street where?" The guy was struggling, I could tell. Maybe I hurt him a bit bad or something else, but I didn't care at the time. I was desperate.
"Have to...go home..." He was starting to spout complete nonsense, and then seemed to be drifting off into sleep. And no way I was having that, so I started shaking him until he was fully alert, and repositioned the knife at his throat. "What about this Trickortreat person? What do you know about her?"
"Not important" he said simply, as if it was common knowledge.
"Not important, what do you mean, not important? What about Red Cross?"
He did his best to shrug, his eyes now darting here and there, probably bored out of his mind by then. That, or just deep in thought. "Kind of important, but not really."
"Great", I muttered to myself. "So why? Why steal away my mother? Who would steal away my mother." I pretty much concluded that all this had to trace back to the Slender Man. But it seemed to, coincidential somehow. "HE wants Stephanie's mother. HE wants Stephanie. HE wants Stephanies family." He started spasming, and jerking and shit underneath me. I tried to snap him out of it, but the fucker pushed me to the ground, after fucking headbutting me in the forehead. I am pretty sure that was the only time he used pronouns. The last thing he repeated before I made the move on him (get your minds out of the gutter), was "HE wants Stephanie dead."
That head of his...it was pretty hard, which is ironic, given the term for his sort. It managed to knock me out, and I don't know how long. But whatever the duration, someone must've picked me up and moved me because I woke up in the middle of a fucking graveyard. Nobody in sight. I was pissed.
And then I shit myself.
Figuratively of course.
I swear, I THOUGHT HE WAS FUCKING BEHIND ME (note the "thought"), but it turned out it was only some sort of caretaker. He thought he saw some kids playing around I guess.
Long story short, he brought me to my aunt and uncle's who were surprisingly not cross with me at all. In fact, they were all sobbing. My uncle didn't even care I lost his gun out there. I would at least have taken that. But whatever. I got a shower to wash off all the dirt that was all over my skin. And then they treated me to a nice dinner.
And you know, if a guy who doesn't flip out over losing his best hunting gun doesn't weird you out, I don't know what is. Because I'm pretty weirded out now.
Still...what that weird dude said. He said something about Walter Street, and home....
Rebecca, I might be coming back to Buffalo.