I'm leaving. I'm packing a suitcase, I've put gas in my car, and I want to go somewhere, anywhere, anywhere that's not here. I can't take another hour of staring at his eyeless face through the glass door. I'm getting the hell outta here. Sayonara, Stone River.
I've wanted to take a vacation for a while now. Maybe I should go to San Francisco, or Vegas, or New York City. Somewhere crowded, where I can hide myself amongst the mundane, amongst the Ignored. Somewhere that doesn't have many trees or forests.
John Leon is going on holiday.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Trapped In My Own Home
I haven't slept for 40 hours. Slenderman's been lurking outside my house for hours on end lately. He's planning something.
I want out of my house.
I can't take being locked up in here.
Skippy's still missing. Gloria moved back in with her parents. She's scared.
I hate my life.
I hate him.
It's all his fault.
He's trying to making me suffer.
Why? Why me?
He hates me. I just know it.
He wants me dead.
I want out of my house.
I can't take being locked up in here.
Skippy's still missing. Gloria moved back in with her parents. She's scared.
I hate my life.
I hate him.
It's all his fault.
He's trying to making me suffer.
Why? Why me?
He hates me. I just know it.
He wants me dead.
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