Thursday, December 30, 2010

New Year

The year ends tomorrow. 2011 has got to be better.

I'm sorry about the entry before last. This is what happens when you write something as soon as you wake up from a bad dream...I guess that's the consequences of having a laptop and a blog.

Let's play catch-up, shall we?

I'm sure you'll all be just fascinated to know that I had a good Christmas. It was a great night, but probably not very interesting to read about. We had a good dinner and Dad and Ted got into a fake fight about who made better tamales (Ted won by popular vote), we all got some cool gifts (I was especially excited to see Mom enjoying some of the yarn I dyed for her back in the day) and Andrew and I had a snowball fight with Hannah. I didn't write about it sooner because, like I mentioned, I don't think it makes for a gripping story, and also I've been fairly busy recently with traveling and friends.

So like I said in the last entry, I'm back in Tucson, nothing weird to report, no sign of Blue Scarf Guy, burned posters, or anything else suspicious. Although today, it actually snowed! Granted, it was not for very long and not much, but still, exciting! It was the first time Christian had ever seen snow (He's a southern California boy) and watching him react to it was kind of magical.

I did talk to the police about what I'd uncovered, but I think they're tired of hearing from me, because while the officer I talked to was very polite, he was also very disinterested, and suggested grief counseling several times. So the police think I'm slightly crazy, great.
I can't shake it though. Something strange is going on, and the only clues I have are the notebook scans and this goddamn blog, and I've been over and over them looking for some kind of explanation, something I missed...anything. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack, if I didn't know what a needle was.

I'm going over to Jess's for a New Years party tomorrow night. I'm going to get drunk and count down to midnight and we might all go up the mountain and shoot off fireworks since that's legal in Arizona now. And hopefully I can have at least one night where I'm not poring over the same meager clues. Maybe it'll help to get that break.

Monday, December 27, 2010

Figured something out.

Alright, before I get started I should mention that this is from Tucson. I'm back in my old house, and it's both better and worse than I thought it would be. Better, because my landlord is amazing and is letting me find a new roomate in my own time, and not charging anyone for Jill's half of rent in the mean time. So, Mr. Martinez, you're the best, and the internet should know.
It's worse because every time I walk past her know what, I don't want to talk about this anymore. There was a real reason I posted, not just missing her.

This is the thing: Since S. has been looking back over my old emails from Jill, I looked them over too, and found some things I'd missed on the first go-round.
Let's go through this in order.

From "More":
  • The (X) symbols are wrapped around the word IT which is also always in all caps in the notebook and the previous email (see "Jill emailed me"). I only mention this because it changes later, and might be important.
From "Emails again":
  • From other emails, I've figured out that OH is "he" or "it" in Russian, and so all of that "OH" is more IT, I think. Which, of course, refers to our old friend the Slender Man.
  • There are three groups of nine 9's. I'll get into that in a second.
From "More contact, and tracing Jill"
  • The (X) has changed from wrapping around IT to wrapping around my name, Zero's name, and all references to us. She doesn't wrap her own name. I think, and this is pure conjecture, that she was using the (X) first to contain the mentions of the Slender Man, like a quarantine or something. But then, as she dropped further into her delusion, she might have started to shift her focus to protecting me and others. I guess she didn't wrap her name because she thought it was too late.
  • S. translated the rest of this email, (thank you) and mentioned that "haloed" probaly means "hallowed". This is I guess a term in the Slender Man mythos for people the Slender Man has bent to his will, unwilling servants I guess. They seem sort of like zombies to me, not in the "grr I eat your brains" sense, but in the original sense of the word- Zombies as mindless slaves.
  • Twelve groups of nine 9's.
From "Scans":
  • The last scanned page is the one I'm focusing on. That's the one with Slender Man leaning over Jill, who I am now certain was drawn as lying on the ground cut open. That was...really hard to write.
  • There are a bunch of tally marks at the bottom of the page, crossed out. In the post I wrote that there were 51 total. This time I looked at the groupings: the first group has 12, the second has 9, the third has 20, and the fourth has 10.
  • Twelve, nine, twenty, ten. 12/9/2010. Which is the day Jill died.
I...I don't understand this. Jill predicted the date of her own death. Her own murder. And she predicted how it would happen.
The only way this would make sense is if she planned this...and even through this whole thing, Jill has never, ever struck me as even slightly suicidal. It's still a possibility, though, so either it's that, or she predicted her own death with such accuracy that it can't be put down to chance, and that...that isn't a possibility I like either.
Is madness contagious? Is it a disease you can catch from another person? If someone believes in something hard enough will you start to believe in it too?

I juat woke up from this dream...I was running through a forest and Jill's delusion was chasing me. Or rather, not chasing me, because it was just walking, no hurry, because it knew I couldn't get away. It had all the time in the world.
It's not surprising that I dreamed about the Slender Man, after all those blogs I read every day...but I don't like it, all the same. Not just because it was a scary dream, but because there's stil this nagging feeling, no matter how much I try to dismiss it, that this is how it starts. In all the stories, all the videos, it begins with seeing the monster in your dreams. And the fact that this is legitimately bothering me frightens me even more, because that means that I'm taking this a little bit seriously. And now I can't get back to sleep.

When I saw all the men in black suits at Jill's funeral, my heart stopped for a moment. Not because it reminded me of her madness, but I because I had this sudden feeling that one of them would turn around and have no face. I was, if for only a second, faling prey to her hallucination.

I have a confession, and this is something I've never told any of my friends, other than Kevin: I have a history of depression, anxiety, panic attacks, and mild OCD. I actually had to take a leave of absence during high school because I couldn't deal with the stress of it. I used to have panic attacks- full on, crouched in a corner crying and hyperventilating, thinking you're going to die panic attacks. I'm on some anti-anxiety meds these days, and so I'm doing pretty good in general, although every once in a while, in times of stress, I'll have a panic attack again. I almost had one at Jill's funeral, but managed to keep it together.

I don't say this to get pity- in fact, usually I hide my mental illness. It's not a side of myself that I like to show off, and I don't have it as bad as some people. Most of the time it's something I can kind of ignore, but it crops up in places, like how I can't have four of anything at a time, and I have to take pills every morning, and I go to a psychiatrist sometimes. But like I said, Kevin is the only person outside of my family that knows about this, and I'm very close-mouthed about it generally.
The reason I told you this here is that it's a pretty compelling reason for me to be nervous about digging into something that made my friend lose her grip on reality.
But I'm still looking.
And that also makes me nervous.

Friday, December 24, 2010

Comments and Christmas

I just checked the blog and found a couple of comments that I want to talk about.

K-OS, thank you for your kind words...I'm not usually very religious, but I think this experience is making me turn back to God in a way. I miss Jill so, so much, but I do sometimes feel like she's here, like she hasn't abandoned me. I hope her mom feels the same way.

S, thank you too. If you manage to translate any more of the Russian, could you let me know? At this point I think it's mostly just nonsense about her delusion, but...I don't know. Knowledge is power, I suppose. I'm glad you were able to give me those words...oh, fuck, I'm crying again. God dammit. Okay.
And thanks for attributing that quote for me.

If I had ever had the inclination to hate the people who played this game, to blame them...I would've been proven wrong. Everyone who's talked to me has been a good person. You've offered comfort, you've offered information, and one of you even offered to go to Texas yourself. I just want to thank everyone for talking to me, for helping a stranger find out what happened to another's unexpected and immeasurably kind.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Dad, Laurie, and Hannah decided to spend it with us instead of with Laurie's family, so it's all of us together, opening gifts and eating tamales (another weird tradition). I've been spending a lot of time upstairs in my room, but tomorrow I'm determined to stay downstairs with everyone. Tomorrow of all days should be happy. Tomorrow of all days should be the one where I stop isolating myself and start really appreciating all of the kindness people have shown me, on the internet or in real life.
I just wish Jill could see it too.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

I can't believe I'm doing this

Zero of A hint of serendipity has named tonight as the night that the Slender Man is damaged. He's asked everyone to write a story about how it happened. And so, because it's late and because it feels good to get a sort of fake revenge on the fake thing that ruined my friend's real life, I'm doing it. I'm keeping it purposely vague because...well, because I put far too much thought into this and I feel like myths work best when anyone can step into the hero's role. And...I don't know, maybe this is stupid, but I feel like this is a good idea. I heard a quote once that fairy tales don't exist to tell us there are monsters, but rather to tell us that monsters can be defeated. I think it's important for every monster to have a weakness, or, if not a weakness, some kind of safeguard so that the monster doesn't get you. And maybe if Jill could have done something to reassure her that the Slender Man wouldn't get her...well, I don't know.

So this doesn't mean I'm playing the game, and it doesn't mean I believe any of this. It just means this is a weird sort of therapy, and it doesn't hurt. It feels good to write a revenge story.


They came out of the night like leaves blown on a cold wind. From all points of America, across snow and desert, through forests and plains, called together by the loss and fear they'd suffered. By the determination to end that fear.
The Hero was among them, or perhaps they were all the Hero. None could deny the cold grip of fear around their hearts, but even with that fear tugging at their veins, they knew that they coudn't turn back now. And they only had to look to the side to see that they were not alone.
They had weapons- guns and swords and baseball bats, makeshift clubs and talismans. They did not stride across a field of battle in a blaze of glory, but they did not quail. They crept forward, hearts beating out of their chests, some holding hands tightly, some crying, but all moving forward together. And they stopped.
One spoke- "We know you're watching. Come out, you skinny fuck."
There was low, nervous laughter from somewhere in the group. And then silence. They waited.
Amd then they heard the low rustle of branches behind them, and all of them turned, knowing exactly what was waiting for them. The Monster, a patch of darkness in the night, featureless head rising like the moon, tentacles waving like branches in the wind. They shuddered under its faceless gaze, but they did not run. They raised their weapons high.
"On three." said someone. And they counted up to three, steeling themselves, ignoring every nerve in their body that screamed run, run, run.
And they charged the Monster.
It was confusion, a blind, inelegant battle, all flailing tentacles and wild swings. The air echoed with gunshots. They were lucky not to be murdered by their comerades. And then the confusion stopped dead. There was a terrible inhuman screech of rage and pain, and a rain of black-green fluid that burned like acid as it fell on their skin. They drew back from the Monster as one, and saw it standing in the returning moonlight as the eclipse passed.
One of them had hit the Monster.
It swirled around them, losing its form. On the ground at its feet lay a twitching patch of darkness- one of the creature's tentacles, severed by a knife, or sword, or bullet. Those who dared to take their eyes from the creature saw that it was dissolving into the earth. And when they looked up, the Monster had vanished again, before they could strike the final blow. But it had been hurt. It was vulnerable.
And because it could be defeated, it had lost its power. There would be rules, now, to bind it, ways for children to pull the covers over their heads and deny it entry, safety measures and barriers and weapons that would work against it. It would never hold the same blind fear again. And so the Hero, or Heroes, had their victory.


Monday, December 20, 2010


I'm probably going to really regret this, but after yesterday's post I opened up that favorites folder that I'd titled "slenderman" and started reading through blogs again.
Looks like this game is coming to a head for a lot of you, two days from now on the winter solstice. I guess I'll follow the game, but the fact that it's indirectly killed one of my good friends has kind of ruined the fun for me. I'm still not angry at the players. In fact I've been in contact with Pete, and he's been nothing but helpful....It's not the player's fault that Jill took this as real. If it wasn't this, it'd probably have been something else...

In any case, I hope you all stay safe. Don't confuse this fiction with reality, don't put yourselves in danger over an imaginary monster.

And happy holidays.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

The funeral

Jill's funeral was yesterday. It was a good service. Apparently Jill actually had a fairly large family, or a lot of extended family. The service was crowded. I had a sort of horrible moment when we were walking to the grave- almost every man was wearing a black suit and tie. Twenty or more black suits. But they were all human, of course.

Jess and I cried through the whole thing, and Christian held our hands the whole time. None of us got up to talk about her, but we all talked to her mom afterwards, and she said we were a comfort, that she knew how much we loved Jill, and she was glad she'd had such good friends. That set me off again- I started sobbing and apologizing, and her mom hugged me and said it was okay.

After the service I said goodbye and got dinner and headed home. Jill's mom offered to let me stay with her, but I couldn't face seeing Jill's house without her in it, so I drove back to Flagstaff, into the rain, instead. But when I was walking across the parking lot to the Subway where I ate dinner, I saw that X symbol written in chalk on the sidewalk, and below it, a picture of a fish. I took a picture, I'll put it up later, when I find my camera cord.

I was understandably freaked out by the symbol appearing like that. I'm sure there's a good explanation for it. It's a game on the internet, so of course other people knew about it. But the strangest part is that it didn't make me frightened or upset, at least not after that initial shock. It makes no sense, but when I looked at it, I felt...soothed. Safe. I don't know why, and I'm not sure I entirely trust that feeling, but I drove home and went to bed and, for the first time since Jill died, I slept through the whole night.

And today I'm going to make a snow angel.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Trying to Understand

I can’t sleep, so I’m going over what I know. I’m not sure why I’m still trying to play amateur detective. She’s dead, I can’t help her. But I guess that’s how I am- I have to keep poking at something, turning it around until I understand it. I can’t believe I can write about this. It’s only been a week. I’m going to her funeral tomorrow, driving down in the morning, and hopefully I can get some sleep before then. It all feels so far away.

I keep going over past entries in my blog. It’s ironic that I spent all this time wondering why I kept updating, only to turn to it constantly for reference and information. In hindsight, I’m glad I kept writing.

Jill was found in Texas. Assuming that’s where the woman got hold of her, she was heading east-ish. So she was definitely lying about where she was on her twitter, and probably to Pete Biggs (the guy from The World That Never Was who has commented a few times). I can’t see a reason for her to do that, other than fear that she be traced, but it’s very strange that she should lie to Pete as well. As far as I know he wasn’t interested in tracking her down. (If you were, and have any info, can you please email me, Pete?)

The way that her body was found is similar to how slenderman victims are found in stories. In fact it’s almost the same, except without the black plastic bags that seem so prevalent…so she either told her killer about her delusion or the killer was also a believer in the slenderman myth, and was trying to make it seem real.

There are at least three people involved in this thing. There's Jill, the woman on the phone who may or may not be the killer, and whoever burned the posters around my house. This last person may or may not be the guy in the blue scarf, and I'm not sure if what's been happening in Tucson is directly related to what happened to Jill, but it seems logical, right?

I've been talking to Jill's mom on the phone pretty frequently. Even though she's dealing with her own grief, she's been kind enough to keep me updated on what the police are doing. Apparently the flowers she got were bought from a grocery store near her house, and the police haven't been able to find any fingerprints or any way of tracing them, that implicates yet another person in this crime, or else it's Tucson Guy again, and he made a day trip up to Tempe.

The thing that really gets me about this is that, if Tucson Guy is actually behind all the stuff in Arizona, why is he doing it? It makes me wonder (and I'd never consider this if it weren't so late) if this Slender Man myth isn't something darker, something a bunch of crazies have latched onto and are using to, that's really stupid. But something about this whole thing just bothers me, and the more I think about it, the more I feel like there's something I'm missing, some vital piece of the puzzle that I've dismissed as unimportant.

But that's absolute hubris, that comes from reading too much Agatha Christie. Real life isn't as tidy as a mystery novel, and in real life I won't solve this crime, the police will. Or maybe no one will. And that's the thing that I'm afraid of- that we're all missing that puzzle piece and it'll never be found, and the killer will get away free and kill again. Real life is messy, it's filled with dangling plot threads. That's why I like writing fiction so much, that's why I love design- because I'm in control of what happens, and if a line doesn't go where I want it to or a loose end isn't resolved, I can erase and put that line in the right place, tie that loose end back up. I can't do that in real life.
I'm rambling. This entry's going nowhere, and I'm getting a headache from looking at the screen in the dark. And I haven't figured out anything at all.

Monday, December 13, 2010

From Flagstaff

It took a lot for me to open this page and start typing.

I went home the day after posting that last thing. Right now I'm in my old bedroom in our old house, and Ted is making soup downstairs for dinner while Mom grades papers (she teaches middle school) and plays christmas carols. Andrew's coming home soon too, he'll be here on thursday, and Aunt Caroline's going to be over tomorrow to help Mom and I make cookies.

The cookies thing is a holiday tradition: we spend 2-3 days making ridiculous ammounts of Norwegian cookies from recipes passed down from my great grandparents. We make krumkake, rosettes, wreath-shaped cookies, and my personal favorite, drommer. Closer to christmas (as in, on the day before) Aunt Caroline makes lefse, which is a sort of potato-based tortilla. Ted doesn't help, usually, because he does most of the cooking for dinners and the like. He's an amazing cook.

It's a comfort to be home. I didn't realize how much I missed my family and my hometown. I haven't gotten in touch with any of my friends here just yet, because I want some time to myself to just be with my family. Dad's going to visit with his wife Laurie and daughter Hannah, they'll be here in a few days. They usually spend at least part of christmas break with us, and then actual Christmas at their home in San Bernadino, with Laurie's family. I always think it's a little strange that my parents get along as well as they do. It's not like they're best friends, but they like seeing each other once a year, and of course Dad wants to see me. The strangest part of it is that Dad and Ted love hanging out together. There's absolutely no awkwardness between them. They go out to basketball games together. Andrew calls it a bromance.

I think I'm avoiding what I came on here to say.

I'm done with the meds, by the way. Kevin only gave me so many (in hindsight I think he might have been making sure I didn't try to hurt myself, which is maybe the sweetest thing he's ever done for me. The scary thing is that he was right to only give me a few). I've been crying a lot more lately but somehow it feels better than nothing. I think going home was the best thing for me to do- I'm surrounded by people who love me and care about me. Mom and Ted are being understanding and wonderful in general. They keep doing little things to cheer me up. And Andrew's going to take me ice skating when he gets here even though he hates it because he always falls on his ass.
That's still not what I meant to say, though.

Jill's funeral is in four days. I'm going to drive down to Phoenix by myself, even though Mom, Ted, and Andrew all volunteered to go with me. But I want to do it on my own.
There's been no forward movement on finding her killer. Apparently the police in Phoenix are working with the Texas police, but there's really not that much to go off of, just a voice on the phone. Apparently no one in the little town even remembers seeing Jill, so she could have been killed somewhere else and taken to the woods.
I hate writing these sentences, they make me feel sick.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

What happened on thursday

I'm sorry about that last post. This is a lot for me to deal with. I had Jess edit this because she was with me when I got the news and I don't remember parts of it...the comments in purple are hers.
Oh, and the reason I'm writing so calmly is that I'm on mood stabilizers. They're not prescribed, but don't worry, Kevin gave them to me and he's very careful about the dosage- I'm not drinking or doing anything dangerous.

What happened was this: The whole school had thursday off. It's meant as a day of rest between class and finals, which started friday.  It's called Dead Day and that irony just occured to me, oh fuck I'm crying again.

Okay. Get through this.
Jess and I were studying together for our english final when I got a call on my cell from the police. (It was about 2:30 or a little before) They told me Jill's body had been found in Texas, and could I please come down to the station. I remember dropping the phone and going over to the couch, but beyond that I don't remember much until we got to the station.

Ali dropped the phone on the ground and I grabbed it. The police officer on the line asked if everything was ok and I said yes, Ali was on the couch and she was gritting her teeth really weirdly, I guess she was in shock. Anyway I asked what was wrong and the officer told me what he told her, and I said okay and hung up. It sort of didn't hit me until much later, but Ali wants' this told in order, so let's see...I went over to her and gave her a hug. She was sort of acting like a robot but she gave me her car keys and I drove us both to the police station. I was in the waiting room while they talked to her.

The police told me Jill's mom had gotten a bouquet of flowers with a typed note that morning, which said "Claim Her" and then, beneath that, the name of a small town in Texas (they didn't tell me the name of the town). Apparently the police in Tempe talked to the local Texas police and they conducted a search, and found Jill's body in the woods. I'm a little hazy on this, and I really wish Jess had been there to remember for me, but I think I demanded to know how she died. The police officer was pretty reluctant to tell me, but he did in the end.
Jill was found suspended in the branches of a tree, eviscerated with her organs rearranged. At this point I asked if her fingers were broken. Again, he didn't want to say anything, but he did end up admitting that they were. And that was about when I lost track entirely of what I was doing. (Ali was in there for about two hours and I couldn't hear anything. at one point they brought in water for her and I saw her sitting up straight through the open door. She looked really upset obviously.)

Finally they let me go...I think they asked about all the stuff I'd told them about before, and then about who'd have Jill's mom's adress. I don't remember a lot of it. I guess they got what they wanted, though, because they let me go home and told me I should call right away if I saw anything suspicious. Jess drove me home, and halfway through the drive she pulled over into a neighborhood and started crying, which set me off too, so we just sat there in the car and hugged each other and cried for a while (that was the first time in this whole thing that either of us cried, and Ali seemed a lot more normal afterwards).

Jess spent the night, of course, and while she was making dinner I made that post. I, I still am very angry. I should have done more. I don't know how, but I should have done more. I keep going over and over the past few months, trying to find a point where one descision could have saved her.
The rest of the week was a loss for me. I thought I saw her fucking delusion one time. I thought I saw a blank white face watching me from the bathroom window, but when I looked out again it was just this hanging lampshade she'd hung outside when we moved in. (I heard Ali scream from the bathroom and then laugh a little bit and tell me everything was ok, and please take that lamp down.)
Jess spent the rest of the week at my place, and so did Christian. Kevin stopped by for a little bit but of course Sarah wanted him home so....I'm not going to say what I think about that, no point in burning bridges. But we didn't do anything that whole time, not studying or anything. At one point I called Mrs. Wu-Kliene and asked if there was anything we could do, and she told us the funeral was planned for the 18th, which is the first official day of winter break, and it'll be in Tempe. She sounded weird on the phone, but of course that's only to be expected...we said we'd go.
I emailed my professors about the exams, explaining what happened, and I'm getting slack from most of them, so right now I'm packing to go home to Flagstaff and make up the exams when I get back to school. Jess is going home after the funeral (she lives in Colorado) and I'll drive down to Tempe for it I guess...I have to find something nice to wear.

I feel like my whole body is full of novocaine.

(Jess again- Something Ali didn't talk about because she hates thinking about it is that the killer hasn't been caught yet. The police think it was either the woman on the phone or an accomplice, but either way the woman on the phone is their best lead and they're trying to catch her. I want the killer to get electrocuted for what they did. They deserve to fucking die screaming. Jill Kleine was one of the nicest most intelligent people I ever knew and to take advantage of her when she was having a breakdown and then fucking kill her like that is sick and evil. She might have been hallucinating about the monster guy she thought was after her but whoever killed her really is a monster.

One last thing: I know Ali said she doesn't have an audience but I see she has some followers...if you're there, let her know. She needs to know people care right now, especially when she gets off the meds.)

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Tuesday, December 7, 2010


Since the last post on Friday, I've heard no word from Jill, although she apparently called her mom. The call wasn't from her cell, which she left behind when she ran away. Her mom says that the call (from a restricted number, naturally) was somewhat distorted but there was no background noise, just a lot of static. She said she heard a woman's voice say "Is this Mrs. Wu-Kleine?" and when Jill's mom said yes, the woman said "Someone wants to talk to you.", and then Jill came on (her mom said it was probably Jill, but her voice sounded weird. 'croaky and thick' was the phrase she used). Jill said "I didn't want to go, I didn't want him to kill me. Remember my name. Remember that I told him my name. Remember that I never told him her name." Then she started crying, and Jill's mom said she asked her if she was okay, and then Jill said something unintelligable and the line went dead. The police weren't able to get a trace on that call either.

My on-campus stalker is back, too. I've seen that guy twice more, always on campus. I don't think it's enough to go to the police, even with what's happening with Jill. It's been warmer lately so he must be sweating in that coat and scarf, but he's still wearing them, and he's added a baseball cap to the ensemble (maybe he thinks I won't recognize him with it on? If so, he's a pretty crappy stalker). Both times were on Monday- once walking over to the student union, and the second time waiting for the bus. He was on the other side of the street the second time I saw him, but I recognized him anyway.

In other news, the police don't know what to make of the burned posters, and neither do I. I looked around a bit more and it's just those two that were burned, which is unnerving because they're the only ones near my house.

So what do I make of this, in the coldest, most logical terms I can think of?
  • Jill's stalker might be stalking me now, or he might be a she, and has gotten to her and is now holding hostage
  • Alternatively, and this is what I'm hoping for, she's with a nice, normal woman who is taking care of her, and is hallucinating the broken fingers. It says a lot that the preferable option here is Jill being delusional.
  • Her twitter, at first, seems to point in the direction of her being held against her will- the most recent update on the 26th was "shehasmeshewillfeedmetohim", which is...negative. But I'm still hoping (what the fuck) that she's imagining that a stranger who is trying to help her and might have to restrain her is secretly working for slenderman.
  • Either way, her obsession with slenderman is still going strong, judging by that tweet and what she said to her mom on the phone. I thought that first part, "I didn't want to go, I didn't want him to kill me", sounded familiar, so I looked over the folder of slenderman stuff in my favorites, the one I haven't opened since mid-november. Turns out she was misquoting the text from under the picture the first time slenderman appeared in the Somethingawful forums. The full quote is: "we didn't want to go, we didn't want to kill them, but its persistent silence and outstretched arms horrified and comforted us at the same time..."
  • Jill's mentioned comforting arms in her most recent email, too, and in comments on other people's blogs.
  • One last thing: In her twitter, on the 22nd of November, she posted something about "18 days". Eighteen days from the 22nd is the 9th of December, which is three days from now. I don't know what that date signifies to her- from the tone of the tweet (even with the gravity of the situation I feel like an asshole saying 'tweet') it sounds like either a date for her giving up and coming home, or when she thinks slenderman will leave her alone. Like she's waiting something out.  
That's my stupid analysis, it doesn't mean anything really, and it certainly doesn't help. But I realized the other day that the only alternative to sitting on my couch feeling helpless and afraid was to start doing my own fake investigating. The thought that any part of it could be useful at all makes it worth it.

Friday, December 3, 2010


Jill called me.

Jill called me and left me a voicemail on my cell phone.

Jill called me and left me a voicemail on my cell phone and I ignored the phone when I heard it ringing in the other room because I thought it was someone I didn't want to talk to.

The message was really short. It was just her sobbing and what sounded like grinding her teeth, and then she said "she broke my fingers" and there was loud static and feedback, and then the line went dead.

I told the police and they have my phone right now. They can't trace the call.

I can't even think right now. Kevin's over but he'll have to leave soon because Sarah wants him home, and Jess is going to spend the night over here, but as much as I love them both they are absolutely not helping. How can they help? How can any of us do anything?

I don't even know if she went south or north when she left. I don't even know if she's really being hurt or just imagining it.

I doesn't matter. I've written it a thousand times and it never comes true.

If anyone's still reading this, which I don't think anyone is...please, please pray for Jill. Or, if you don't pray, think positive thoughts or send energy or do whatever, just...she needs something. Whatever you can give. Because I'm not able to give enough.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Someone is fucking with me.

I'm beginning to be very, very glad I had the locks changed the other day.
So on Monday I was walking from the art building to this nearby convenience store that lets you pay with the school meal plan. You have to go through a pedestrian underpass to get there, which I mention because as I was walking back with my coffee, I noticed this guy in a big grey coat and a dark blue scarf around the bottom half of his face, standing on the side of the underpass, watching me. The coat and scarf weren't that weird, because Monday was bitterly cold. I was wearing a scarf too.
But the next day, when I came out of the library (which is on the other side of campus by the way) I saw him again. Same coat, same scarf, same brown hair. I've never seen the guy around campus before, so it's not like he's in my classes or anything, and he didn't say anything at all. Just watched me walk to the bus stop. I made sure he didn't follow me. Call me paranoid, but I kept remembering the fact that Jill had said she'd seen someone around the house, and that was what had triggered her first breakdown.

I haven't seen the guy since Tuesday, although I've kept an eye out for him. But I'd chalk that up to me being a scaredy cat if it weren't for what happened today when I got home from school.

I mentioned hanging missing person photos for Jill, didn't I? Yeah, in this post. Well, I posted them up and down the street I live off of, and today when I was walking home from the bus stop, I passed one of them.
Someone had set fire to the bottom of it.

Somehow they did this without burning the telephone pole it was stapled to, although I suppose they could have pulled the staples off of the bottom, held it away, and set it on fire. However they did it, it was really, really creepy.

There were two posters between the bus station and my house, and at first I didn't see the one that was nearer to my house, but then I found a scrap of it on the sidewalk. This one was burnt almost entirely, but whoever the arsonist was, they weren't doing it haphazardly, because they left Jill's picture almost untouched.

I took the scrap with Jill's picture home with me, and then came back with my camera and took photos. I'm going to send them to the police tomorrow.

This is the one nearer to the bus stop. I've blacked out the personal info, obviously.

And the scrap I found near the turn-off to my street.

What the hell is this, guys? I'm scared, and I'm mad, and I really do not need this kind of shit with finals coming up. I'm already close to failing some classes and I can't take the stress of constantly having to look over my shoulder.

I think I want to spend most of winter break in Flagstaff.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Just to say-

-I just got a brand new laptop! And by "brand new" I mean actually fairly old and not working so amazingly. I picked it up at a university sale the other day, and I've been getting it cleaned up and ready to work. It took a pretty long time, too, because I'm really, really bad with computers. Luckily Jess stopped by to help me fix it up.

Yes, I am talking to people again, making an effort to go out and have fun. And I got my locks changed last week. Also: I un-privated my email, so if you guys want to email me for whatever reason, it's available through my profile.

And of course, since no entry is complete without her: Jill posted on twitter again over thanksgiving break,  just once. I don't know what the post means or whether she's talking about a real person, a metaphor, or a figment of her imagination. Her mom called again and asked if I knew anything else, and I told her the police know everything I do. I feel terrible for her mom. She doesn't seem to have much of a support system.

Wow, this entry was supposed to be a short note. Sorry guys.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Not Jill, Alice.

No word on Jill, no updates on her twitter, no emails, nothing. I did get a comment from this guy Pete, who's running one of the slenderman blogs that Jill posted on. He and Jill have apparently been emailing. Weirdly, he says she told him she was heading south, while her twitter says she's headed north...I'll keep you informed (she said, to the still mostly nonexistent audience)

I went home for Thanksgiving, back up to my mom's house in Flagstaff. It was nice to forget about Tucson for a while, even if I did have to head home today to spend the entire weekend working on an art project. We don't have big Thanksgivings in my family, usually- just me, Mom, Ted, Andrew, and Aunt Caroline. Sometimes Andrew and I bring friends, but this year it was just us, and I was kind of glad. Andrew makes some amazing mashed potatoes by the way.
I think it's a good thing that I quit reading the blogs, because there were a few scary moments when I was walking around outside where I thought I saw the slenderman in amongst the was a pretty obvious mistake to make, actually. Mom's house is near a stand of aspen trees, which look like this in the winter:

So yeah, it's obviously totally shocking that I thought I saw a tall, skinny person dressed in black with a white head in amongst the branches that look a lot like spidery legs. And before you guys get all paranoid, yes, I did investigate every time, and every time it turned out to be nothing but shadows.

Internet memes aside, the holiday was good. Just what I needed to calm down a little.

I want to talk about my Grandma a little bit. If the people who are following this are only interested in the Jill portion of this blog, I'm telling you right now that this isn't related, but it is kind of important to me. I'm probably going to get a little maudlin too, fair warning.

Grandma Alice was another part of the little family that was formed when my mom and dad got divorced and Mom moved in with Aunt Caroline. Grandma Alice is their mom, and she lived with us until her death when I was twelve.
My Grandma was an amazing woman. She's the person I hold up as my inspiration, the person I want to become. She was born in Michigan to Norweigian immigrant farmers, and when her father was killed in WWII she and her two brothers had to quit school and work full time to keep their farm. They lost it anyway. They moved west in the late 50's, and settled in Flagstaff, where she met my Grandpa and they got married. She worked as a high school art teacher for most of her life, and loved painting especially. She was also an early feminist. I remember asking her when I was little why she never wore skirts like every other old lady I'd seen, and she told me that she hadn't worn a skirt since she was sixteen years old, because she didn't like to do what a bunch of stuck up rich men told her to do. She taught my mom and Aunt Caroline when they were growing up that they were as good as any man, that they could never let anyone tell them they couldn't do something, that we lived in an unequal society and that they could change that. She told the same things to me when I was a kid.

Grandma Alice and I were always very close. My Grandpa died of throat cancer before I was born, and I don't know my dad's parents at all- he never talked about it, but I think there was a lot of bad blood there. But Grandma Alice was home all the time when I was little, and she taught me how to draw and paint, how to play piano, and she never, ever discouraged me from doing something unorthodox or strange. She once let me go to the store with her covered in blue paint from head to toe, and when the cashier asked what was had happened to me, she looked at me proudly and said "Isn't she fantastic?"

She died suddenly, of a stroke, when I was about twelve years old. Today is the anniversary of her death, and every year since it happened I've drawn her a picture. I still miss her, but every year around this time I get an incredible feeling of comfort, like she knows I still care and she's giving me a hug and telling me I'm fantastic again. I need that feeling more than usual this year. I love you, Grandma. See you next November.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010


Yeah well, here it is, the moment you've all been waiting for. Rad.
I'm not sure why I don't feel bad about posting these anymore. I guess I've accepted what this blog looks like, and if I keep saying that this isn't real and posting about the way this myth fucks up people who think it IS real, maybe someone will listen...I don't even know. I feel like shit, I'm failing classes, and there's been no word from Jill, not even cryptic messages.

So here's the notebook, gawkers. You can click for the full version.

This is where it starts, about halfway through the notebook, which is for Russian. The first part is her notes, and then I'm not sure if the Russian after "nonliving masculine" is notes or not, but after "step on a crack break your mothers back", it's definately her breakdown.
Beneath the large letters, it says "imscared" very small.

This is the facing page. It's in permanent marker with blue pen scribbled all over it. First appearance of that X symbol too, assuming she drew the stuff on the covers of the notebook later.
By the way, a note about the X symbol on the front and back cover of the notebook: It's drawn over and over again, sometimes with different colored pens and markers. I think she kept retracing it over a long period of time.

Back of page 2. We have first the line "stems and bones and stone walls too" which is a line from the Decemberists' song Yankee Bayonets (we both like the Decemberists, I recognized it right away). The second line gave me a bit of trouble, but after googling it it's apparently a line from Burning For You, by Blue Oyster Cult. 
Then after that, in a different pen, we have "Did I just fall from your arms, down into your hands", which is a line from Out In The Cold, by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. This is kind of weird, as that particular line always used to creep me out when I was younger (my dad's a huge Tom Petty fan and I pretty much grew up with his music).
Then we have this tree with weird roots, which is actually really good drawing for Jill. Not to speak ill of someone who's missing, but she's admitted herself that she's not good at art. Below that is a stick figure girl who kind of has a similar hairstyle to Jill, so I'm going to go with that being a drawing of herself.

There's a blank page before this one, which, after reading the blogs, I can confidently say shows slenderman menacing Jill and some other girl. Again, the drawing of slenderman is pretty good for Jill, he's got shoulders and everything.
I'm not sure but I think the other girl is either me or Jess. We've both got sort of long wavy-ish hair. This also creeped me out. 
The facing page to this is mostly blank, it just has a little nursery rhyme.

"1 2 buckle my shoe
3 4 shut the door 
5 6 arms like sticks
7 8 too late"

and then under that: "no RUSSIAN dammit dont let her read this".
I think Jill was trying to protect me. Fucking awesome. /sarcasm
This is the next page:

Again, slenderman menaces somebody, either me, Jess, or some third girl I haven't thought of yet. Slenderman is not so well drawn here, but I don't think that means anything.

The person at the bottom is probably Jill, and she's in a dark place (probably?) with either a full moon or her buddy slenderman again. God, I shouldn't be making snarky comments, what the fuck.
There's a long stretch of blank pages, and then a bunch of paper crap in the binding, like she tore a bunch of pages out. Then this:

Judging by what I could see on some of the other remnants of torn out pages, she filled at least four pages front and back with the word "slender" written over and over again.
Not like I need to point this out, but this is so fucked up.

This is a few pages after the page of blog URLs, which I didn't scan because it's just links.
Looks like slenderman standing over someone (probably Jill?) who is either floating or walking backwards on her hands...? I'm not sure what's going on in this picture actually.

Second to last page in the book, after a series of blank ones. Slenderman standing over probably Jill again, this time a lot more hunched. She ripped through the paper a couple of times shading his body.
Probably Jill isn't floating in this picture, more like just lying on the ground. She's shaded her body a little bit too, I'm not sure what it's supposed to mean (maybe there's something on top of her?), and she's lying on a shaded area too (either in a pool of something or just her showing that she's on the ground?)
There's some tally marks written below and then scribbled out, but there's 51 all together. Don't know what that means either.

The last page is just this:

And then on the back of that is the letter she wrote to me, which I transcribed here. It's the only thing in pencil in the entire notebook. 

Well there you go, the fucking scans are up. Now you can stare at my friend's craziness all you want.

No, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a bitch, I'm just really upset and life seems to be falling apart recently. Obviously.
Who knows, maybe Jill will come home and I can somehow pass all my classes and find an awesome boyfriend and we can all live together in the house I'll buy with my lottery winnings.

Happy fucking thanksgiving.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

More contact, and tracing Jill

First things first: I got another email from Jill. She was barely coherent. This is what it said:

999999999NO NO NO FOCUS
(X)Ali(X) OH хочет меня. ЭTO в моей голове. ЭTO заставляет меня халоед.  я не магу нет. я ни могу сопротивляться. Я не могу бороться.


говорить с (X)Зеро(X) потому что (X)он(X) пытался мне помочь. Скажите (X)ему(X) что это была не (X)его(X) вина. (X)он(X) был не достаточно но (X)он(X) все равно. Скажите (X)ему(X) я извиняюсь.


но он любит меня. этот  комфорта. этот объятие.

ОН придет для меня и сделать меня своим агентом или он убьет меня

Пожалуйста, пусть он просто меня убить

999999999 999999999 999999999 999999999 999999999 999999999 999999999 999999999 999999999 999999999 999999999

Once again, the groups of nine 9's (this time there are 12 total) and the X's, although this time a lot fewer of them. And, once again, the Russian, which I translated with all X's removed, and spaced out the english for easier reading:

OH wants me. ETO in my head. ETO makes me haloed. I can not say no. I never can resist. I can not fight.

i might die
takchtoOHneprinimaetmenyatalk to Zero because he tried to help me.
Tell him that it was not his fault. it was not enough but it does not matter. Tell him I'm sorry.This is not your fault this is not anyones fault but mine and the monsterI TRIED BUT IT WAS NOT ENOUGH NEVER ENOUGHtonkierukiobnyatmenyaall the better to strangle you withbut he loves me. this comfort. This hug.

He comes to me and make me your agent, or he would kill mePlease let him just kill me

This sounds like a fucking suicide note.

I talked to the police about Jill's twitter, which has been updated once since I found it and then apparently went silent, and they're checking it out. The detail about 18 days is of interest to them. That'd be the 9th of December, for those too lazy to look at a calender.

Let's talk about blogs for a minute.
I think the Zero she's talking about in her email is the guy who writes A hint of serendipity, where Jill has commented once, that I've found, on Nov. 18, which was the same day she emailed me with the picture and the Russian. Her comment was half in Russian too, but translated it was basically

You're ok. Thank god. I'm.Fuck, I can't type it. OH oversees and monitors. I know this beautiful comfort.I'm glad you're ok.

In response to him being hospitalized for drinking some substance or other.
This dude Zero seems to be slightly losing it too.

And I'm done with blogs, for now. I've got them saved in a folder on my favorites menu, but beyond that I'm not going to touch them. I know I can probably help her a little more if I know more about the slenderman myths, but frankly it's far too stressful to read horror stories that my friend believes are real. I haven't been sleeping well lately and my grades are going downhill again, so as selfish as it sounds I have to take care of myself and put this blog stuff away for a little while.

I haven't talked to any of my friends in a week, not even Kevin.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

...and more blogs, plus Jill appears online.

As of this point I've caught up with The Tutorial, Testing, 1 2 3, A Really Bad Joke, Anomalous Data, and White Elephants. And guess who commented on the first two blogs? That's right, my roomate and good friend decided that instead of asking someone she knows for help, she'd ask two strangers on the internet.
The posts were made on the same day- October 22. This was when she was in Phoenix for the second time. This is what she said, copy/pasted from Testing, 1 2 3 (I'm tired of italicising, sorry guys)

I posted on M's blog too, anyone who's trying to help us, copy/pasted from there.
IT's been outside my house for weeks. I made a mistake and lost it in front of my roomate. She got my mom to take me back home and I thought it would help but IT followed me back here he didn't do it last time I was home but now IT's here too and I'm so scared I don't know what to do.
IT isn't here now but IT'll be back I know it. Don't know why I didn't look at the blogs about IT before but please, you help people right? I'm just 21, I don't want to die. What do I do?

No more posts from her on The Tutorial, but it also hasn't updated since (and by the way, whoever's writing it? You might want to post again, it took me an hour to get through all your comments).
She did post one more time on Testing, 123, though, on Nov. 9 (after she disappeared). It was on the post about how the guy from White Elephants left. All she said was:

Oh thank god your ok. I knew you weren't dead. Thank god.

This in response to the last post made on White Elephants, where he says that this guy Shaun who runs Testing, 123 was out of comission.

Through the Blogger profile thing I found out that she has a twitter, as well...!/jill_running. And it looks like her delusions are getting worse. At least she mentioned that she's going north...I'm going to give that adress to the police as well, and maybe they can track her IP adress or something. I doubt they're expending that much effort though, frankly. She's a grown woman even if she is going crazy, and with the border issues in AZ recently (google SB1070, I'm too tired to talk about it) they've been busy.

I don't know why I keep posting here and looking at these blogs. I'm a glutton for punishment, I guess...I was driving home last night and got scared by a shadow in the prickly pears on my street because it looked like a tall thin guy. Maybe I should stop, but now that there's a possibility of finding out about Jill...

Friday, November 19, 2010


Last night, after I got that email from Jill, I did something that probably wasn't very intelligent. I started looking at all of the URLs she'd left for me in her awesome little notebook.
There were only a couple of sites written down, but I started following links, and so I ended up reading quite a few.

I'm not angry at any of these people. They didn't mean for Jill to start believing their stories, and like I mentioned in an earlier post, I read a few about a year ago and took them as what they are- games. I did end up finding the things I'd seen earlier (those being the Marble Hornets video series and Seeking Truth, a blog) and catching up on them- both have apparently ended and then restarted in the time since I've last seen them. Marble Hornets was one of the links Jill wrote for me. The others were The Tutorial, Testing, 1 2 3, Anomalous Data, White Elephants, and Just Another Fool. The last three seem to have ended. The ones I found myself through links are Road to the Heavens, A hint of serendipity, The World That Never Was, A Really Bad Joke, A Rainbow Life, and Vivere disce.

I'm not linking to any of these by the way.

I'm still in the process of reading through most of them, and there's a few more that I abandoned simply because they weren't very well written. The only ones I've finished are Just Another Fool and Seeking Truth. Right now I'm reading through The Tutorial, because it's relatively short and it seems to be the one Jill is the most fixated on, given her "get up high" advice in the notebook.

I'll say this for these blogs: They're good at keeping up suspense. I read through all of Seeking Truth last night, and ended up not getting to sleep until like 3 am because it was pretty fascinating stuff. I can see where you could get addicted to things like this.
So far I think Just Another Fool is the best written blog I've seen so far, at least from a classical writing standpoint. I have to admit that despite the situation with Jill, I enjoyed it a lot. I think it's not one of the more realistic blogs, but it's got some really interesting ideas, including the ties to Norse mythology which are really quite well done (I'm of Norweigian descent and my grandma Alice used to read myths to Andrew and I when we were kids). The connection to Yggdrasill, the world tree, was kind of cool, as was the story's parallel to a myth about Odin giving up one of his eyes for knowledge. There was a level of symbolism in the story that doesn't seem to be present in any of the other blogs so far.

As for Seeking Truth, it definately drew me in. I started crying when Zeke found out about Lizzie's obsession, because the way she was written was so like how Jill had acted. I liked the characterization and the way the story was paced, but the premise wasn't that realistic. I mean, come on, why would a police officer post case-sensitive details on a blog?

I guess this is kind of a long and somewhat shitty post. I'm mostly thinking out loud here.
I'm probably going to spend a lot of my weekend reading blogs and watching videos (in fact I'm kind of a wuss and I can't watch Marble Hornets at night- I tried, but the second video creeped me out so badly that I had to stop). But I feel like by reading up on this slenderman mythos, I can understand Jill a little better, and maybe figure out how to help her. Even if reading these things sometimes makes me feel sick or scared or unhappy.

Can anyone give me more links to sites I might have missed?

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Emails again

Yep, still no scans. I guess I've committed to showing them at some point but this is a little more urgent...I got another email from Jill.
It was all in Russian (I think I mentioned on here that she's in her 2nd year of Russian) but since it was typed I was able to copy/paste it into a translator so I know what she was saying roughly. Here's the Russian version:

(X)Али(X) OH голоден и (X)я(X) усталa и глупо. ОH убьет меня. (X)Человек(X) болен и (X)я(X) бегу но я не достаточно быстро. ОH убьет меня. ОH убьет меня. ОH убьет меня. OH убьет всех нас. ОН становится голодным. ОН наблюдает ОH придет ОH придет чтобы убить (X)меня(X) OH ждет но OH терпелив и OH не будет долго ждать


Here's the translation. I took out the (X)'s to help it make better sense, and in the last thing I think the (X)'s denote spaces, or at least I got a more understandable result than when I ran it all together as one word.

Ali OH hungry and I'm tired and stupid. OH would kill me. A person is sick and I'm running but I'm not fast enough. OH would kill me. OH would kill me. OH would kill me. OH will kill us all. He becomes hungry. He observes OH OH will come to kill me waiting but OH OH OH and the patient will not be long in coming
Ali pozhaluystapomnite me when I die

I don't know why there are 3 groups of nine 9's. I don't know...fuck, I don't understand any of this. She's sending these things and I don't know how to help her other than to keep telling the police about what's happening, but I feel so helpless...
Oh yeah, and there was a picture attached. I know I shouldn't post it (more fuel to the fires of...whatever this is turning out to be) but I'm so tired and confused.

It's a heavily edited photo of the view out of her window, darkened to the point where the shrubbery in front of the window pane is almost black. This is obviously taken before she drew shit on her windows, because there's no trace of that X symbol on the glass...I can't believe she took the time to edit this picture to add blur effects and up the contrast. The way her email sounds she's barely coherent.

If anyone can tell me what that one word in the last sentence of her email means, I'd be really grateful. And I'm going to repeat my question: If anyone knows Russian, please tell me.

I hate this so much.