The Exception

As I have already noted, the key difference between a Spider and a Bat is the cold, hard fact that a Bat is Blind whilst a Spider Sees all.

Thus, I believe we should attempt to befriend the Spider.

Yes, I am aware that they have attempted to Devour our Brothers and Sister beforehand.

Yes, the are indeed not to be trusted. Spiders never are.

But like Grandmother Spider, the Spiders dressed in Black are far more capable of compassion then their Bat companions. Indeed the Spiders are capable of saving those who will Drown, and spin Charlotte's Web of Dreams instead of Lies.


With this Web, we can be Saved.

The CPS have become the Spiders of Dreams, how about the FBI?

Consider it a possibility. One who Sees almost as much as the Eagle is a considerable Ally indeed.

The Bird

I will not cover much of the information concerning this Enemy, mainly because I don't feel the need to. Some of you know enough about the Enemy while the Others should Not Learn [The Curse of the Worms] of it at all (this was my Moth's first mistake).

I refuse to.

But let me share with you all a Story. It is the least I can do since most of you seem to have nothing better to do but threaten eachother's Life.

Once upon a Time there was an Eagle. It was the largest Eagle in the world. But it had a Hunger, a Hunger for Worms. Legend had it that it would come away at Night and snatch away Worms.

It's Rival was the Hawk.

The Hawk said it could reach the Heavens; The Eagle said it could reach the Heavens.

The Eagle asked, "What is your Sign?"

The Hawk replied, "kei".

Then the Hawk asked, "What is your Sign?"

The Eagle replied, "kÑ«ioiâ��hokYªý§� i1×� M".

These were their Words.

They then flew and approached the Heavens. The Winds and the Clouds came. The Hawk cried out "kei" and descended. It could go no further on account of the Winds and the Clouds, but the Eagle disappeared into the Clouds.

Even though I am but a Butterfly, with Weak and Fragile Wings. I intend to learn the Secrets of the Eagle, and fly into the Clouds after it, unlike its Rival, the Hawk.

I will do this and end the Curse of the Worms.

The Bat

Both Bats AND Spiders, interestingly enough, are associated with the Vampire, Bats perhaps more so. The main difference between the Spider and the Bat is simply their Eyes.

See the Bat and it's Blind Eyes.

See how different it is from the Eight Eyes of the Spider.

The Spider Sees All.

The Bat Sees Nothing.

That is how you know the difference. But both are equally frightening. And both will equally suck away at your Life force. Both Fear the Fire.

The Bat is nocturnal.

It relies on the Night for guidance. For Food.

It Worships the Night. It only Knows the Night.

Never will a Bat fly in Daylight.

It Fears the Sun.

It Fears the Fire.

But if you ever enter their domain, the Cave. Beware. They will not hesitate in their attack. Do not be yolked with them. For a Bat's bite is lethal, and you will become one of them and lose your Sight. Do not listen to the Words of a Blind Fool, for their Words are woven from the Spider's Web. They speak only Lies and the Teachings of their God, the Night.

Beware the Bat for it is a Child of the Night.

The Rat

Admit it.

You dislike the sight of Rats.

Whether in the house, on the streets, or in the sewers.

Rats are naturally disliked creatures?

Why?

Well, what's to like about them. They are disgusting, Disease carrying creatures, which are found in the most disgusting places. It is only natural to Fear them. Who doesn't fear the infestation of Disease. Especially if that Disease hides behind every wall, under every floorboard.

Historically, Rats have always been a bother to humanity. The most well known origin of the human fear of them, is the Black Death. According to textbooks, the Black Plague spread with the help of this vile Rodents, who stowed away upon trade ships. With hardly anything to defend themselves, the people of the Dark Ages quickly fell prey to this seemingly unstoppable Disease. Horrifying artwork cropped up.

Of Death.

 Despair.

 And Horror.

And all because of some Rats, and some species of Insects.

Rats amongst other things, continue to be the cause of many Diseases.

They are among us now.

They can be you.

They can be me.

They can me.

They can even be your neighbor.

And they all wear the guise of a Mouse.

Beware the Rat who appears as a Mouse.

For with Disease, Death surely shall follow.

And the Reaper will come to collect your Soul.

The Spider

We all heard of them.

Whether in movies.

Books.

Comics.

And we see them in real Life.

For centuries Spiders have been the source of Fear, knowledge, and inspiration, in our human culture. In some cultures it was depicted in deities which were the spinners and weavers of destiny. In African culture, and Lakota culture, the Spider is depicted as a Trickster. Interestingly enough, the Lakota incarnation of the Spider, the Trickster god Iktomi, has the ability to Control people with his silk. There is a legend that he would one day return to spread his Web all across the land. I believe he already has. On the opposite side of the spectrum, the Spider can be a Creator rather than a Trickster, as depicted in the Navajo myth of Grandmother Spider.

But beware. Spiders are more or less, Tricksters and Thieves. In Japanese mythology we are given the tale of the Tsuchigum, an ethnic group who take on the visages of humans, and derogatory term for Bandits. The story of Minamoto no Raiko portrays some of his encounters with these human-Spiders. The Jorōgumo is another variation of the Japanese shapeshifting Spider most common in the Edo period, the term literally meaning "Spider whore". As Edo legend had it, they would entice men into a shack playing beautiful Music, devouring the unaware Victim while they were too distracted by their Song.

Spiders are oddly similar to the Vampires in their predatory nature. Both lure and ensnare their prey before sucking the life out of the Victim.

What I'm speaking of, however, are those who spin Webs of lies. Trapping us and the entire world in a warped version of the truth. These are the Spiders you need to be wearer of. For if they catch you, they will make sure you are silenced. I am sure you are already aware of one of them, the FBI agent known as Fisk. Him and those who are similar to him are like that of the False Prophets. They will continue to spin webs until they have captured a Butterfly. Beware. Beware I say! They will say to you that the world has ended. They will say that the Bird does not exist. But He does, and He grows ever stronger still!

The day that they cease to be Iktomi, and become protectors of the Jōren waterfall will be the day they descend from their Webs, and save those who are Victims from drowning, as we all will one day.

Beware the Spider who spins Webs out of Lies instead of the Truth.

Now Let's Get to the Heart of the Lesson

What hunts Caterpillars?

As cousins of the Worm, a Caterpillar has many natural Enemies.

Sometimes the Enemies of a Worm and a Caterpillar can be the same.

• Rodents(youknowwhoyouare)
• reptiles
• [the]Bat(s)
• Birds
• Spiders
• nematodes
• and other insects

 Caterpillars are also very susceptible to Pathogens, and dying from Disease.

Some of the most important pathogens are:

• [the]Virus(es)
• bacteria
• protozoans
• microsporidians
• and fungi

But they are not without Defense.

• stinging hairs 
• Camouflage
• Hiding in rolled leaves
• storage of bad tasting and poisonous Chemicals
• glands that emit repellent Chemicals
• an ability to enclose Foreign Bodies
• flashing bright Colors to startle Predators
• spitting
• and feigning Death

But Worms crawl.

Is crawling not similar to Running?

Mazel Tov

Congratulations to our Three Monarch Butterflies. May you guide the next Generation of Caterpillars so that they too can successfully complete their eventual Transformation.

Interestingly enough, the Hebrew phrase for "Congratulations" is Mazel Tov, a phrase often uttered at Jewish weddings.

Symbolically, weddings are a step towards a new Life. A Life of Unity.

But beware. Even the Monarchy falls prey to the Eagle.

Fate and Transformation

Every single one of us is a Worm.

We deserve nothing but Death and torture.

As Worms, we are to be associated with rot and Disease.

But there are those who can shed themselves of their Disease.

They are called Caterpillars.

Indistinguishable from the Worm, yet they are the only ones filled with Disease who can build for themselves a Cocoon and enter the Pupation period.

Our daily ritual of Sleep is sometimes viewed as Pupation. When we Dream, our Minds seem to roam Free, like that of a Butterfly.

In Christianity the cycle is different.

The Caterpillar's constant crawling and chewing is similar to normal earthly Life where people are often wholly preoccupied with physical needs. The Cocoon resembles a Tomb and emptiness, and can suggest the empty shroud left behind by Jesus.  Thus, a Butterfly represents the Resurrection into a new condition of Life that is Free of any material concerns.

But it can also mean:

• Egg - Our Birth
• Caterpillar - Our Life
• Cocoon - Our Death
• Butterfly - Our Rebirth

We are all fated to Die. Some earlier then others. But sometimes it comes to us in the most devastating form. A Gnostic depiction of the Angel of Death shows him stepping on a Butterfly underneath his heel. White Butterflies were once believed to be the Souls of Dead children in Ireland, and thus it was forbidden to crush them. The ancient Greeks depicted man's soul as a winged person.

The Butterfly represents the frailty of human Life.

We can be here Today and gone Tomorrow.

But in Death there can be Change.

In mythology the Butterfly is rarely distinguished from the moth, so since the moth is naturally drawn to a flame, both are related to Fire. Fire is the element of Transformation.

In ancient Central America the god of cosmic Fire, Xiutecutli, is symbolized by a Butterfly.

In Greek mythology Psyche (Greek for Soul or Mind), the bride of Cupid, is represented by a Butterfly, who glimpsed the True nature of her mysterious Sleeping lover using Firelight. This led to her eventual downFall, and many Trials, ending in her beautiful Transformation.

From a Worm.

To a Butterfly.

Do you understand?

Butterflies are often symbols of transition in a person's life...

A Butterfly starts it's life out as a tiny Caterpillar who knows nothing but Hunger. And for days it Feeds on plants, getting fatter and fatter, Shedding its skin whenever it finds that it is too tightly packed in its current one (during a Caterpillar's life they Shed their skin up to Five times.). A rather disgusting creature by most people's standards.

In the middle of a Caterpillar's life they undergo something of a Metamorphosis (which is Greek for Transformation or change in shape). They Shed their skin for the last time, creating for themselves a Cocoon in which they Hibernate for nine to fourteen days. After which a beautiful Butterfly emerges from the Shell.

Usually that Butterfly lives for only a few weeks, sometimes even a couple months (those that Hibernate tend to live up to the latter).

A Butterfly is also a symbol of Faith.

For they accept their changes and beg us to do the same.

Goodbye black butterfly.

You can take those perfect wings into outer space.

'Cause there's no place left in this blood, for your restless fluttering, your sleepless ways.







Black butterfly, flutter me by.

Kick a little bitter into the night.

Spark of the stars leaving on my heart.

Trying to be good by you, alright alright.

Soft breeze, rose city sunsets, the bats are swinging around me like drunken ships.

Ever-evergreen bows above me tower singing, quiet stories 'bout forgiveness.

Black butterfly, flutter me by.

Kick a little bitter into the night.

Spark of the stars leaving on my heart.

Trying to be good by you, alright alright.

I'll be good.

Alright alright.

Edward Lorenz is known for delevoloping the Theory, "The Butterfly Effect"

Even though the concept had appeared once before, in the book "The Sound of Thunder".

"The Sound of Thunder" describes the journey of a hunter named Eckels back in time, to kill the almighty Tyrannosaurus Rex. He was told not to disturb anything in the past or else he would change the future.

The encounter with the King of Dinosaurs was chaotic. He almost hadn't made it back to the present. But when he did everything had changed.

But why?

He didn't do anything wrong. Did he?

Alas the encounter with the King was chaotic. His boot had gotten stuck in the mud as he stumbled off the path they were meant to take. Such a mistake can have dire consequences, can it?

Underneath that muddy boot.

My friends.

Was a crushed Butterfly.

According to the Chaos Theory, a slight flutter of a Butterfly's wing could be the cause of a violent Typhoon weeks later.

In "The Sound of Thunder" a crushed Butterfly rewrote the future.

I am that Butterfly.

There once was a philosopher named Zhuangi

One day Zhuangi had a dream, just like me.

In that dream he dreamed that he was a butterfly fluttering around happily, doing whatever he wanted.

Just like I did.

He didn't know who he was until he woke up.

Yet he wondered...

Who was the dreamer?

Him?

Or the butterfly?

Does HE dream of us?

Did Hannah truly die?

Was I dreaming the entire thing?

Why do I feel like my heart was torn out of my breast?

When I was little. My mother used to sing me a song.

Go to sleep
My dear sweet Stephanie
For Jesus is watching over you.
Don't be afraid
For Jesus
Jesus
Jesus is watching over you.


According to Jewish tradition the origin of the word lullaby is "Lilith-abi".

Lilith is a demon who stole the souls of children during their sleep.

But most lullabies from medieval Britain were associated with Jesus.

A child's soul was stolen away from me.

I hope you understand Rebecca. You saw it yourself. I can't stay with you any longer.

I killed myself.

And I had no lullaby sung to me.

Neither did I ever think to sing to Hannah. Now I regret it. I regret everything.

He made me kill myself Rebecca.

I am literally dead.

Steph's back

She came here yesterday, saying that she wanted to see me before she went to live with her grandmother. I tried telling her about Mr. Hernandez's offer but she wouldn't listen to me, she said she didn't want to hear it. I think she's still cross with me. She refused to talk to me for the rest of the time she stayed. She didn't seem to have her dream journal with her...I'm beginning to believe she lost it in the fire, which she doesn't seem to think occurred. Or...she refuses to acknowledge that she no longer has a real home.

She looked terrible. I've never seen her so skinny, or pale. I tried to convince her to come to the walk-a-thon at school today, but it seemed to insult her. The only reason she came, she told me, was to request that I give her some space. Then she just left.

I don't know what I did, but I think something's wrong with her. Something changed. I want to know why, but I'm afraid she might turn on me if I press the issue too much. It must be Hannah's death...


I think I'm going to refrain from speaking to her about Slenderman or her mother for the moment.

I arranged a meeting with Mr. Hernandez...

Dr. Fitzpatrick was supposed to be there too, but he was attending a meeting of his own. I wonder, do doctors attend meetings? Do they all meet in a surgical room and just....talk? I've never really ventured far enough inside hospitals enough to see what happens behind the scenes. The most I see is nurses, standing around talking to each other while I waited to be pricked and probed. I hardly ever see my doctor...

Sometimes I wonder why is it that Dr. Fitzpatrick spends so much time with Steph. I don't even know what he says to her, or what she says to them, but it's like I can always hear him in the background whenever I'm talking to Steph. Part of me thinks that he may be listening on our conversations, but another part of me trusts Dr. Fitzpatrick enough to know that it isn't true. It's sort of odd that a doctor would be spending more than a few minutes with a patient. Even dentists spend a larger span of time with their patients. Not that I'm complain of course. It's just...odd.

I truly believe that Steph needs someone to be there for her. I'm just glad that it's someone like Dr. Fitzpatrick. Perhaps he's the one Mr. Hernandez was talking about. The guy who would act as Steph's psychologist through these tough times. He was her mother's psychologist after all.

I still wish it could've been me.

Hm, who knows? Perhaps he was just too busy. Doctors are naturally busy people.

Anyways, Mr. Hernandez had assured me he was always open to talk. So I thought that I would take him up on that offer.

Only now I wish I hadn't.

We met at my house, as requested. He looked happy to see that I was okay, or so I believe.

H: It's been awhile since we last met.

R: Yes...it's been a little over a week.

H: You've been considering my offer?

R: ...Yes, and...I'm thinking I should take you up on that offer.

H: Really.

R: A couple of my friends and now Steph's sister died. I don't know who else to turn to. I can't turn to the police, who are no doubt trying to figure out Jeremy's and Frank's death. They might become suspicious.

H: And why would that be?

R: Umm...

H: You see Rebecca, there is one thing you didn't think about during this entire mess. The police have been investigating these deaths from the beginning. It's only a matter of time before they come to your door.

R: You mean...

H: That you're a suspect? Afraid so.

R: Oh gosh...what do I do?

H: I wouldn't post about any more deaths, should they happen, if I were you.

R: So what're you saying? That more people will die?!

H: Seems so. Which brings me to something concerning the supposed number of deaths that have occurred. These people who have been stalking you and Steph seems to have miscalculated.

R: What?!

H: If you read their latest entry, it suggests that the number of people they killed has been four. You publicly posted the deaths of three people. That is unless your hiding something.

R: I have no idea what you're talking about.

H: Yes you do.

R: What?!

H: Think about it. Four minus three is one...

R: So someone else is dead?

H: Either that or somebody lied.

R: B-but, I don't even know anything!

H: Relax, we aren't suspicious of you, at least not yet. That is unless you know something that we don't.

R: I don't know anything!

H: Good. Then we can discuss other important matters. Such as your security, and a possible new home.

R: You mean my home isn't good enough?

H: For a safe, normal, growing child? Yes. For a Victim? No.

R: I can't leave yet! I still have school!

H: You can still go to school. We just need to relocate you in case something unconventional happens.

R: Unconventional like what?

H: Well, given the enemy's killing patterns, and the level of danger you're in. I'd say there's a chance of either you becoming brainwashed, or you dying.

R: Where am I going to go?

H: We had a nice fellow on Walter Street offer his services. He calls himself Melvin. I think you met him once..

R: What?

H: Middle aged man. Balding. Blonde hair. Glasses. I think you broke in one of the houses across from him.

R: Steph's grandfather's apartment!

H: What were you doing over there, anyways?

R: Uh...it's nothing of importance.

H: I read that you found some documents and a journal in there. Am I correct?

R: Uhh...

I handed him what was left of the journal. I didn't know what come over me. But he had this authoritative aura around him. I simply couldn't refuse. In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have. Now he has all of those papers, and there's nothing I could do about it. I suppose I can find out where the VPA keeps all their information, but I have a feeling it might be downtown, in some uptight security office building. I'm not ready for that. I'm just glad that I have all of the coordinates on this blog. But I don't think they were interested in the coordinates.

They must be collecting some sort of evidence. The question is, for what? Why?

I may never understand these people.

H: Thank you for your contribution to our cause.

R: Is that what you do? Take whatever clues people might have of their loved ones?

H: For the most part yes. We need to understand how the minds of the brainwashed work in order to understand how to save them.

R: But how?!

H: The same way you and your Runner friends are. By developing a cure.

R: That won't work.

H: And why's that.

R: People have already tried developing a cure! Jay's acid, Jeff's cure! Jeff's cure won't even work now that he's dead! And I don't even know about Jay's acid! I don't even know how well it might work, or whether it'll work at all!

H: We understand that.

R: Then why?!

H: Because we have waited idly for too long. The longer we wait, the more people will get affected.

R: But what if it doesn't work?

H: Then we continue doing what we've been doing. Saving the Victims.

R: I don't understand anything.

H: It's alright. You don't have to.

R: First I learn that the FBI is trying to cover up his existence. And now you guys...

H: I assure you, we are good.

R: I believe you! It's just... I don't know. Why do I have to move.

H: It's only until the end of the school year, just so you can focus on your studies. We will also be sending Steph to another safe haven after she takes her tests. After that you're free to do whatever you wish. Both you and Steph. We might recommend [REDACTED] (sorry, I can't risk too much)

R: And I can be certain that you're trustworthy?

H: Certainly.

R: Alright. When will I be moving?

H: Most likely by next week if we're lucky. We just need to convince your mother that we're not taking you away permanently.

R: Oh...right...

H: You will get through this. Both of you. Don't worry. The Victim Support Association only exists to help you guys. If anything happens to you, we're doing something wrong. And God damn it, if something does happen, I will scavenge the entire world until I find you two. Don't worry about the FBI. Don't worry about the government. They have no right to hide what's going on behind close doors. If the day comes when the entire world fights together to defeat this beast. Well...that would be a good day. Maybe my military experience would actually be useful for once.

We started talking about Steph and Steph's mother after that. I told them I wanted to find Steph's mother and he seemed pretty interested in helping me. I'm sort of glad he didn't suggest enlisting the police's help. I'm sure the Police Force is great with this kind of stuff, but he and I both agreed that it would only lead to Steph's mother being on the FBI list of missing people. So that's a good sign.

I forgot to tell him about the coordinates though (even though they'll probably figure it out themselves). I don't know, I guess a part of me wanted to do this alone. I mean, I appreciate their help but...I'm still a bit cautious about reeling people in. Here was this man who's own friend was captured by Slenderman, who seemed to be able to escape him for thirty four years. I don't know what would happen if Slenderman suddenly takes a new found interest in him. But I am still thankful for his help.

Steph should be released from the hospital this weekend according Dr. Fitzpatrick. I hope she isn't too mad at me. Or won't be.


Keep holding on loves. <3

I know you guys can do it.

Concrete Angels

If any of you watch Doctor Who then you might be familiar with the statue like aliens known as the Weeping Angels. If you haven't...you are lucky, because I can never visit cemeteries because of them. Why you may ask?

I...I rest my case.

The cemetery I wept in was filled with statues. Not to mention there were statues on the roof of a church we passed by. It was...it was the worst. The area was a mostly Catholic center, the Catholic center of Buffalo , New York (although, it's actually Lackawanna) So I suppose it's not all that surprising. But ever since I watched that episode of Doctor Who I can't look at a statue without feeling like it's coming after me. I suppose that one could feel the same way with the Slenderman. Sometimes I feel like that's the reason why I can't see him. It's probably not true at all, I mean, wouldn't it make M's theory about the Operator Symbol useless? ...But then again, it could be.

What if the Operator symbol doesn't work. What if the reason some people can't see him until they take pictures of him or capture him on film is because we're watching him. He has to have some sort of cloaking ability, or glamour. I remember reading something about him being a fairy. I've never really believed in spirits, or angels, or anything of the like...I suppose it's an interesting theory but...

I don't know, it's just a supposition. I want to understand Slenderman, and what he wants, but at the same time I'm afraid to. What if what I discover turns out to be something worse than anyone could imagine? What if Slenderman created himself? Sometimes I dream about things such as these. I see him in an ancient forest within a circle of fungi, and I find myself dancing against my will. I can almost see that twisted look on his face. I can almost hear his laughter. All his servants are gathered around, watching me behind plastic faces. I feel a slight tug at my limbs and I'm dancing the river dance. Then I hear a shrilly laughter, coming from above. I dared not look up, but there were times when I often did. I knew the person's face well, it was Steph, but there was something different about her. It was like looking through a cracked mirror.

I like to think No. I want to think that it is nothing. Even still I know what the dream means, and it frightens me. I am wondering, especially now as I'm typing this, "Is Steph dreaming. Right now? If so, what is she dreaming about? Is she dreaming about me? Am I pulling the strings?"

Why do I worry so much about this? Steph's my friend, she would never betray me. Still, there is much doubt in my mind.

Not even an angel can help quell my troubles. In fact, they only make them worse.

There is one church in Lackawanna with a large statue of the angel on top the highest roof. The angel is shown raising a crucifix to the heavens, surrounded by many children. The church is called Our Lady of Victory Basilica, and it is one of the most beautiful churches I've ever seen in person. It is a shrine, first and foremost, commissioned by the late Father Baker.




I have never been inside the basilica before, but I am told it is just as beautiful. Maybe one day, but I have a feeling Steph would enjoy it much more than I. She always did love art. As for myself...I'm not sure what I would like to visit. But I always wanted to go to Ireland, just once. Or travel with actors on Broadway. Sometimes, I dream of dancing in Germany or Russia.

Poor Hannah.

Oh poor Hannah!

To think, that I thought she was going to become a famous dancer herself! Truly, I did! I watched her dance all the time, I even danced with her. I can still see her, out of the corner of my eye. That little pixie girl, with a smile akin to an angel's. I miss her, so much. If I could just see that face again, maybe I wouldn't be having these nightmares. But she's gone. I saw them bury her ashes. She's gone. It's all over. The world has lost yet another potential talent, another star just waiting to burst in the sky. I feel sometimes, as if it is my fault that she's gone. Maybe, maybe Steph would trust me more, if I took better care of her. Every time I call her it's like she gets more and more angry with me. I haven't called her in three days. I'm worried. She might run away again, and never come back, and then I'll be alone again forever. That is, without a friend. I know, that Trickortreat would surely kill me then. Sometimes I even consider running away myself. Perhaps I would be better off by myself, perhaps Steph won't be bothered much by me. But then what would I do?

But I must not think this way!

I can't.

Steph needs me right? She needs somebody? I really need to be there for her.

I'm trying, I'm desperately trying to get ahold of myself. It's just I get these thoughts, they aren't good. They're not good at all. They scare me. I don't want to die, not yet, but sometimes...

Ugh. Maybe I'm just overthinking things.

Hannah's funeral was today, to put things in the simplest way possible I am more exhausted than anything. I can't even shed a tear anymore without hurting my eyes. I looked at myself in the mirror multiple times today, I look like a mess. I had no desire to look nice at little Hannah's funeral. I couldn't bring myself to. It was too tragic, far too much of a terrible thing. A child that young should not be dead. The place the buried her, Holy Cross Cemetery, which is mostly a cemetery for the Irish. For some particular reason the man who paid for her funeral and cremation wished for her to be buried there. I did see him at the funeral today. He was lean, and tall, a rather handsome man in his mid twenties. Who knew where he got the money for the expenses. He seemed to be a rather eccentric man. He didn't need to smile and you'd feel attracted towards him. I found myself believing that he generally cared about me, and I think Mr. Nord did too.

Steph's father was more than happy to see me. I saw him talking to the strange benefactor as if he was an old friend. I tried to ignore his smile as I gave Mr. Nord my condolences.

"You look terrible, Rebecca. What happened?"

I didn't want to tell him that I blamed myself for his daughter's death. I didn't want to share with him the scene filled with flames that plagued my every thought. I did not want to talk about the monster underneath my bed. "I'm just tired. My AP Language Exam and AP US History Exam was last week."

"You could have called me. I would have given you as much help as you needed. It's the least I could have done. You have been such good help in the past month."

"Thanks, and sorry. I've just had a lot of things of my mind. I must have not been thinking."

"It's quite alright, my dear. Absolutely no worries at all!" piped up the man standing next to Mr. Nord. With the look of his soft brown eyes, I wasn't sure what to think of him. "Mr. Nord here has told me that you are well learned in the subject of literature."

"Well I do enjoy reading sir, but I'm not sure we should be discussing this right now..."

"Oh?" his feigned surprised bothered me so much. "I see. But then, I suppose you've never heard of The Scarlet Letter?"

"I have!" I exclaimed, thinking that everyone should have known about the book. "I read it a year ago in AP Literature."

"Ah! Then I suppose you know about the character Pearl?"

"Pearl? You mean the main character's daughter?" I asked.

He frowned, but I do not understand what would lead him to wear such an expression. I hope I said nothing insulting. "Gift", he insisted on those words. "I think, Mr. Nord and lady, that the deceased should be honored as a treasure today, finally buried to be uncovered in Heaven. I hope that one day, you both will see her there. My heart grieves, until that day. You know what else Mr. Nord told me, my dear?"

His words confused me, and made my ears blushed. I really had no idea what he was saying, I still have the slightest idea. "What else did he say...?"

"You have been a wonderful friend, to both of his daughters. I've heard word that dear Stephanie has been commited to the hospital in the past two weeks. You truly are a loyal person, I can't imagine how tough it is, for you to be watching all this happen to your friend and her family." Besides him, Mr. Nord was silently looking at a gravestone. If only I could have asked for his assistance then.

"It is, a little bit."

"And no doubt you want to help."

"I do...But I'm confused. What is it that you want me to do...?"

"All I'm saying, is that it should be you, not me, not the priest, not Hannah's father, but you that should be giving the eulogy today." He was looking at me straight in the eyes, in the same way a policeman would when probing you in a way masked by kindness and serenity. I felt, afraid, suddenly being given this option that was clearly out of the ordinary. "Why me?"

"Because you, my dear, were her greatest friend. And afterwords if you need some closure, you, your mother, and Mr. Nord and his kids should all come to our church service. We meet every Sunday, and every Tuesday, and I'm certain you'd enjoy our youth services on Thursdays and young Joshua as well." I followed his eyes as he glanced towards one of Mr. Nord's two sons, who stood underneath a tree as far away from everyone as possible, staring at me without even looking. He was still mad at me, I know it.

"I can't", I said to him. "I am not Christain, nor do I ever plan to be. I just want to be left alone, Mister. I can't bring myself to step inside a church, no matter how small it is." I looked towards the direction of the basilica, I was nervous at the time. I can't explain it, but churches scare me. "I'm sorry, but I just can't. I hope you understand..."

My answer seemed to disappoint the man. He tried so hard to feign a smile. I almost regretted making my decision. "Sorry..." I whispered, apologizing a second time.

"No, no! Don't be sorry!" He attempted to sound like he wasn't insulted. "I'm just letting you know, that the offer is always there, in case you are in need of a shoulder to lean on." He put his hand on my shoulder as if to prove this point. "In the end, if you have no one else to turn to, Father is always there, waiting with open arms." His voice grew serious, scary even. I think I was beginning to sweat uncomfortably. "All you need to do is accept Him." There was much emphasis on the "Him", and it seemed rather unnatural. It caused me to shiver, which didn't stop, not even after I left him.

It was Mr. Nord who saved me from him. "Leave the girl alone Christopher, can't you see she's got enough on her mind?" I had to think him before I ran off to find a safe place to hide, that wasn't where I could see Josh clear as day. Mr. Nord may be a bit short tempered at times, but he is respectful of other people's space. That's what I like about him. He knows what it's like after dealing with people trying to invade his privacy for so long. Perhaps that's why I look up to him. You have to look up to someone like him, someone who is so strong, he doesn't let anything sway his opinion. I sometimes wish I was like that. This entire situation could be easier. Seeing Leon at the graveyard wouldn't have come off as a shock. I didn't see where he came from, he practically appeared out of nowhere and I was pretty sure this was a private cemetery.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm paying my respects!" Behind him was a girl I've never seen before. She was short, and appeared to be Puerto Rican.

"Why? You've never even played with her? And who is that girl?" I demanded, "She doesn't look like Samantha!"

"My name is Marangeles" the girl answered for herself. She was wearing on her head a newsboy hat, so there was no way I could determine what she was thinking. All I knew was that she took things in a completely calm matter, which made me respect her existence almost immediately. "I've heard you and your friend got yourselves into trouble. Congratulations. I thought you would've been dead by now. You haven't updated your friend's blog in a week."

I was shocked. Here I was, being informed about the status of something nobody but me and my friend knew about, save for the tens of anonymous people on the internet. "How did you know?" I asked, even though I knew for certain, as much as I didn't like it, that she knew exactly what we were going through.

"I'm just like you, a victim of that damned monster's influence."

"Marangeles saved me from almost being ripped to shreds by a supernatural monster", Leon explained, unrolling his sleeves to show me a rather nasty scar that almost covered his entire left arm. I found that I couldn't quite staring at it. It was horrible, it looked horrible. It was a wonder he could still move it. "There's also a pretty nasty burn on my stomach, but I don't feel like showing you that piece of art. Anyways, it was when I was at Nietzsche's with Steph. After I told her to make a run for it, I was attacked by the same guy these loonies who call themselves his servants told me time and time again about. They said I was going to be killed by him, and I believed them. It was no use fighting him off, I didn't even bother. He was far too powerful, for a guy that was skinnier than my grandmother. I honestly thought I was going to die. Then Marangeles came out of nowhere wielding a cheap looking taser and next thing I know I was raped by the sound of nails in my brain instead of tentacles."

"I saved your life you jerk!"

"Oh yeah, and she also tried to hook up with me until I told her I already had a girlfriend."

"I was healing your wounds!"

"Attempting to heal my wounds."

As it turns out, Leon was forced to be hospitalized and was ordered under the threat of strict consequences to never share any information, which she did the same to me. Although I can share the information I just gave, plus the warning she gave me, "Do not try to be the hero. I know you feel worthless, it's only on every single blog you follow. We all do sweety, it's a normal emotion. But if you ever think that it's okay for someone like you to go out and risk your life trying to solve a problem that is impossible for you to fix, then damn it I'm going to beat some sense into you. You're just too good for crap like that that! So do me a favor and GET OVER YOURSELF!"

She yelled the last bit. I never felt so ashamed in my life. Her words are still sinking in, I don't think I'm ready to pull myself together yet. Not after the death of the sweetest girl I know. Here...here's what I said at the funeral.

I have never known a sweeter, more imaginative, happier girl then little Hannah. She was my friend whenever Stephanie, her sister, wasn't around. And she would always brighten up my day with a smile. If she were here today, she would be dancing like the little pixie she was. Everything would be like a dream, and I would be living it. It almost seemed like she was unreal, at times. I almost forgot she was human. Her appearance, was like that of an angel. Her heart, was that of perfection. No one could love like her. Passionate, was her motivation. Everything was new to her. Everything was meant to be loved.

I loved her. I loved her almost as if she was my sister. And whenever I was with her, I felt like I was apart of the Nord family. When she went to sleep and never woke up, I realized that I wasn't dreaming at all. This little girl was real. Everything about her was real. She was probably the only real person I ever knew. If I could, I would join her, in that great flowery meadow in the sky. Maybe then I could teach her to dance. But I know, that Mr. Nord and his children need me here, to be like what Hannah was to me; a source of support and love. Which is why I choose to celebrate little Hannah's memory every day, so I could make sure that her purity lives on through good deeds and love.

No child that pure should have to die. No eighteen year old should suffer the loss of family and friends. Ladies and gentlemen, I know how some of you think of Stephanie. Please, for Hannah's sake cast away these rumors. Stephanie is not a murderer, nor is she dangerous. She is just like you and me, and she is scared, as I am, of what tomorrow brings. Let us face tomorrow together, instead of living in shadows. Let us look forward to the future, for the sake of little Hannah's memory...

I love you Hannah...

Rest in Peace, little pearl of my dreams.

Here is the song that was played...

There are reasons as to why I never liked statues.


I've also looked up some of the coordinates that I salvaged from the fire. As you see most of them are indeed set in New York, a remarkable number of them seem to be in Buffalo or near it.


42.850059,-78.799755

41.279924,-73.933474

42.908442, -78.865689

42.826148,-78.823360

40.755986,-73.99822

42.652579, -73.933474

42.902614, -78.744572

41.034526,-73.930055

42.884216,-78.777332

I'll try to see if I can visit some of the locations so I can get an idea of what they are.

I saw the post that might have been made by Steph, but I'm fairly certain a Proxy posted it. Whoever posted it, Steph, a Proxy, whoever! I have to go visit these locations. Now that I have a lead, I'm following it through. Steph, I thought you wanted to find your mother. That used to be all you talked about. I have no idea what these "nice men in white" are. I don't even know how you posted. Didn't you say you were banned from the computer until further notice?

But it doesn't matter because it's too late now. I'm doing this.

Thank you.

Don't follow the coordinates.
Stay away from the nice men dressed in white.

They're trying to get to you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l_hUAjCvz14

Lookit what I found~

and weve only just begun

so many roads to choose

make a wish and youre on your way

and yes weve just begun

sharing horizons that are new to us

watching the signs along the way

just the two of us

together

and when the evening comes

youll smile

so much of your life ahead

well find a place for you to grow

and yes weve just begun

four down. five to go.

Some Things Must Never Be Witnessed

Steph's currently in the hospital with Dr. Fitzpatrick. He left a voice message on my phone explaining that she was currently unstable. The firefighters who came a few days beforehand found her struggling with the air, dressed in a strange blue shirt she claimed she never seen before. Beside her was her sister, and I know what they are saying... Everyone seems to think that Steph killed her own sister. I spoke with her earlier, and her account reveals something entirely different. Everyone is acting like Steph is mad. Even her own father... She reminds him too much of his wife, he says. It's almost as if he expects her to go missing too. Dr. Fitzpatrick assured me she was safe with him, and he'll make sure she'll stay with him as long as she needs to. I have to say I trust his judgment. More than anyone else right now. I'm not even sure I can trust myself right now. I truly do not know what I am doing. And while I am trying, it seems like the closer I get to some new discovery the further I get from what I'm actually searching for. It's like a never ending cycle of Cat and Mouse. Only in this game nobody wins. We are at a stalemate He and I. And I've seen Him more and more out of the corner of my eye. I didn't want to tell Steph this but I think I'm seeing him too. I often try my best to ignore him, so I can return to my research, but the temptation is too overwhelming.

Apparently Mr. Nord has his own problems with the CPS. Now that Hannah is dead they are trying to take away Josh and Zach. I believe they already took Zach, because I haven't seen Mr. Nord with him. But the only person I've seen him with so far, was a bearded old man. So I could be wrong. Poor Mr. Nord. He has a lot to deal with right now. No home, no insurance, and they are trying to take away with children. He personally asked me when did everything go wrong. I wished I could answer him, but I was too busy staring at the flames. I remember thinking I saw a shadow in there. But then that shadow became four people. My memory is a bit blurred after that. In fact I don't remember anything at all. Just those four shadows, and one of them, the shadow of a girl, edging towards me, fast. I think I went inside to retrieve some papers, because all I have to retrieve from the fire are these.










The mother and child, the face, the coordinates, and a couple of blank papers, all have been pretty singed in the fire. But luckily, they aren't bad burnt. I guess I managed to get to them before the fire could do some real damage. I can't find the rest of the journal anywhere. I'm certain it's nothing but ashes now. Along with Hannah's poor body. An anonymous person is paying for her funeral and everything. Nobody knows who he is, but he claimed that he was a member of a small church on Clinton. I think it's pretty nice of him. As far as I know, Steph won't be able to attend. Not that I think she wants to go. To be honest, I don't want to either. But I must, Steph's father wishes me to be there, and I think I should for Steph's sake, if anything else. Poor Zach is clueless. He just thinks his sister is lost. But Joshua, who asked to come over to my at my house, seeming a tad bit suspicious of Steph and I. Steph may not have noticed it, but he was looking at her weird for the entirety of Saturday. It's gotten to the point where he cornered me today and demanded some answers. And I was shocked. Usually he never talks, with anyone.

"What's going on?" he asked me. I couldn't hear it at first. His voice is so soft, so quiet, like a whisper in the wind. And he knew I couldn't hear him at first, so he asked again, much louder this time. "What's going on?" It made me jump, hearing him talk to me for the first time. It didn't seem to faze him, he kept on staring at me as if accusing me of something. "What's going on?" he asked a third time. "What do you mean?" I asked back. "You know what I mean" he said knowingly. "Steph's been acting weird around the house, and you too. Something's happening." I was beginning to fear the worst, and life delivered. "She's seen him too, hasn't she?"

I was struck silent, I simply couldn't say anything. What this whole conversation implied, I had hoped it wasn't what I thought it was, but that look in his eyes told me otherwise. He knew. Oh he knew. And he wanted me to explain it to him. I refused, I had to. I couldn't just pull him into this, I couldn't let what happened to Steph happen to him. I had to protect him somehow. But he was persistent. "You're lying. You knew he was there. The entire time, you knew. Both of you did." "Please Josh, I have no idea what you're talking about." "The business man! She's seen him hasn't she? And you did too!" I could be honest about one thing, I have not yet seen him. But he seemed to think I did. I didn't know how I could explain myself to him. "He killed Hannah didn't he?" I felt a sudden sickness clutch on to my stomach, everything seemed to fall all around me, and Joshua continued to stare. "I want to know who he is." I couldn't answer him. I felt paralyzed, as if I was lost in a dream. A few inaudible sounds left my throat, but it wouldn't travel beyond my tongue. I felt like I was about to die right in front of Josh. I felt like I was about to be swallowed by the black hole in my stomach. But then something saved me.

"Joshua Nord?"

It was Mr. Hernandez, one of the two social workers from CPS in charge of the Steph's family's "case" as they call it. The one Steph constantly refers to as "Mr. Dick" and the one I recognize the easiest. And generally, he is the nice one. "Mrs. Velázquez wants to see you for a moment." I still couldn't shake that feeling that I got from Josh, who continued to stare at me even as he left. For a moment there I thought I was going to spill everything. My only hope is that he doesn't find this blog somehow. Once Josh was out of the way, Mr. Hernandez turned to me with a grave look on his face. "Rebecca, you and me will be having a talk, separate from your mother and Josh. We have some important things to discuss." "I don't wish to discuss Steph's condition right now." "This is not about Stephanie's condition, Rebecca...this is about survival."

I lead him to my room, where we could talk privately, still dazed. Luckily, I cleaned my room earlier, so he had no reason to whisk me out of my home. He seemed impressed at least. "Dancer?" he asked, looking at some of my trophy's. I nodded, "That's wonderful. You must be proud of your talent." I shrugged, it did not matter much to me. I just wanted to get this over with. "Where do you see yourself going after the end of the school year?" Again, I shrugged. "I've been considering going into Psychology sir." "Psychology?" "Yes. I want to help people." I think I said something wrong. He looked at me with a look of concern. "Yes, Stephanie is in need of a psychologist right now. But you, I'm afraid to say, just won't cut it." My face fell, I was so confused, a part of me was heartbroken. "What do you mean?" Before I knew it I had a hand on my shoulder.

"You're in danger Rebecca. Which is why I'm making you this offer. Let us help you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"As you are already know, there is a number of people going missing across the nation, a majority of them children..."

"What are y-"

"...I believe you knew one of these children." At first, I gazed oddly at the man before me, trying to absorb the meaning behind his words. But then it dawned on me, that terrible light of truth. "You-" "Yes, I know about the slender creature." he said. I had to bite my tongue, in order to stop myself from correcting him. "We have made it our business to know. Ever since the year 1977." "What happened in 1977." "I assume your parents told you about the blizzard of '77."

The Blizzard of '77. I vaguely remember my Earth Science teacher speaking about it in class when he was teaching us about weather patterns. It was declared a federal disaster, with over ten feet of snow from what I remember. My father told me about the cars trapped underneath heaps of snow that could pile as high as a two story house. The school buses were amongst those that were trapped, so my father told me about how he and his friends would spend the days after the wind died down outside making tunnels and climbing snow hills. He told me one of his friends once dared him to try and climb a streetlight. "It was crazy" he told me. "Yes, my father told me" I said.

Mr. Hernandez nodded knowingly. "Over twenty people died during the course and aftermath of that storm. Radio reports came out every day, it was the only method of relaying official updates to the general public. While they saved a majority of victims using this method, some people reported to be stranded in their cars weren't there when laborers uncovered the vehicle. I happened to know one of those people."

"And where does Slend- the creature, come in on all this?"

"I saw him in a dream before I heard about my friend's disappearance during the storm. I suppose you can say that's when I became interested in its existence."

"So, you think it took him."

"Not at first, no. But when you've seen as much as I have, you start having doubts. And I've seen some strange things over the course of the last thirty years." I didn't wish to invade his personal history any longer than I have. It felt weird, hearing a social worker explain these things to you. Usually a social worker would be worried about your own sanity if you shared something as fantastical as this. I don't even think I could trust him, I mean... I wanted to trust him, but there was no way I could trust a complete stranger. Yes, he was a potential ally, that much I know now. I want him to be an ally. "Which begs the question of whether it was active during the October storm of 2006." I was awoken from my daydream, perhaps I looked confused. All I could remember was not having power for eight days, and school's being closed for two weeks...trees falling.... I tried to not pay much attention to what was going outside. I didn't like the snow as a kid. It reminded me of iced waters. "I wouldn't worry about it, most probable explanation I have is that the snow and massive amounts of people stacked up on top of each other probably helped in its hunt." He sounded really uncertain, "Enough of the past. Fact of the matter is...you need help, and I hope you start evaluating your situation and abilities if you want to survive." "What abilities? What can I do? I can't help anyone. The runners are better off by themselves. I feel like I'm only making things worse trying to do something, just one thing helpful. I-I'm like a messenger pigeon with this very important letter. And I can't get through the window glass until somebody comes and opens the window. But when they do I fly inside and make a mess, I can't do anything. I have no abilities." "And you believe that these 'runners' as you call them are better off than you? Don't you think they realize that they are just as powerless?" "I don't know! I don't know! I just want to do something!" "Look at me!"

I felt a strong, thick hand grab my chin and force my face so that it was eye level with the eyes of righteous anger. They frightened me, and for a moment I was about to scream, but then those eyes softened. "Listen to me. Do not try to help. Don't even pay attention to them unless you know you have something to contribute. Trust me on this it's not worth getting all worked up over strangers who probably have problems of their own. If you want to be friends with them, it's on you whether or not you're going to be safe. We'll be regulating your posts so we can judge them for ourselves, just in case. I'd advice you to choose who you reveal information to wisely. The world is not a safe world, neither is it a forgiving one. Look around you at all times, there is danger. It's not just protection from the average predator we're focusing on anymore."

"We are the Victim Support Association. Our job is to protect the interests of those who have no defense, or are in desperately need of help but have no one else to turn to. When you're ready I want you to give us a call" His words implied that me and Steph were alone in this, and I believed him. But still...

I can't even trust myself. How am I supposed to trust him? I mean he seems to be of well nature, he gave me a private number and smiled warmly before he left. But can't warm smiles be faked? I don't know...I'm a bit overwhelmed by this. As it turns out Josh wasn't staying with me as I hoped, but she was going to life with his grandmother on his mother's side. I don't know how Mr. Nord thinks about that, but it's my assumption that he is rather upset.

Well, I suppose that's it...nothing more to say...

Keep holding on loves.

Love you all.

happy birthday my old friend

hope its one to die for.

The Journal

Hello everyone. It's Rebecca....Sorry about being inactive for a while...

I've been busy. Lately. And, I've been a bit scared. Steph's been mad at me, I think she still is. Especially now that I told her I went back to the apartment. It's a stupid move, I know. But nothing happen. No Slenderman. No strange noises in the night. Not even a Proxy. Nothing. But I was frightened. I cannot simply lie about that, not after Trickortreat.....

Oh gosh.

It was so long ago. I...I was so dumb. I couldn't...

I'm going to try to make it up to everyone somehow. I'm going to try and become extra helpful. I'm going to try...to be brave, to be optimistic. To not complain. I'm going to try...

I just don't know how well I can do it. I'm doing the best I can. I at least managed to find something at the apartment that Steph missed. That's a start right? I think it's important, it looks important enough. It's a journal. One of those journals I keep hearing about. Journals that those who become Hallowed write. I never thought I would find any of these things.

Here's some of the pages, and what me and Steph think they mean. We've spent all night looking through them at Steph's house.




A large list of numbers, all written as if it were a list. Both me and Steph think the same, that these numbers were forced to be written down. Eventually, it seems that Mrs. Nord got tired of writing, and started scribbling carelessly as the bottom numbers are so hard to read. Steph wouldn't even bother. A lot of numbers repeated themselves so I tried running through some programs to see if there's a pattern. But Steph, being the Earth Science geek she used to be, pointed out that they were coordinates. Specifically coordinates set in New York. Now that I think about it, coordinates with these numbers was on the Earth Science exam just last year. We looked some of them up on Google Maps, and we did get some results. All of them in different cities too. But we have no idea what they could mean, or where they lead. Steph doesn't really want to go and find out either. I can't say I can blame her...

Still, this could be a lead. So we're going to try to figure something out.

Steph recognized this right away. Or at least, the first few words. It's from the musical Annie, and the song "It's a Hard Knock Life".



But why though?


Merely numbers. Steph insists that it's a code. I'm attempting to figure it out right now. I have a couple of plausible words so far, but I'm going to wait until I go through it all to see if I get enough to post or not. Some of the handwriting is messy, and hard to read. But the smile in the corner is...a bit disturbing. To say the least. It looks so much like a sad smile....I think this is the point where Mrs. Nord returns to drawing...


Steph and I both agree that this could be her mother and Hannah. With Steph's mother's face crossed out. I wonder why she would cross her face out like that though...


I assume this is a reference to Slenderman right here, represented by a tree. Steph pointed out the people in there before I could spot them. So it may be some sort of commentary on those who flock to him? Steph says I look into things too much. "The point of the matter is my mom is insane". It's particularly obvious that she is...I just wish to know what she's thinking through all of this. And this may be our only chance to figure it out.

This was on the front. I'm not sure what it is. But it looks awfully similar to psychedelic artwork. Particularly the kind they use in therapy. My thoughts are either Steph's mother's was hallucinating, or they gave her drugs and made her draw this, or this drawing isn't hers. Steph seems to think they put her mother on some sort of drugs. I'm not sure what to think.



Well that's it. I think there are some pages that are missing, since it seems like there were pages that were ripped out. But whatever they are, they are gone now. I really want to look into these more today, but Steph wants me to watch Doctor Who with her...and have some girl talk. Which seems silly coming from her. Usually I'm the one who suggests such things. It's funny how the table keeps turning. Steph has changed so much within the past month or two. I remember when she was still so shy and not confident... What happened? Or maybe...was she really shy at all?

I should really be asking these sort of questions. But sometimes I can't help but wonder. I just can't help myself. I always wanted to be what Steph calls a "shrink". I have plans on going to Buffalo State and everything. No idea where Steph plans to go, or if she's going anywhere. She just talked to me about the Marines, and how it would be good for her in terms of survival. I read some of the comments. I suppose I have to agree with Steph, but I agree with Locked On as well. What if it does make him easier to catch Steph? What would happen then?

Either way, I wish Steph luck on whatever she does. We're still going to be friends no matter what...at least...that's what I like to think.

I hope we continue to be friends.

Mr. Nord's calling me. The Nord family is currently coloring eggs right now, and little Hannah wants me to do one.


I'll see you all, I suppose.

Tomorrow is Steph's birthday. I brought a book she may like. Or not.

I'm going to try to make tomorrow wonderful for her.

I just want her to be happy.