Friday, January 28, 2011

Up to Flagstaff again...

...for the weekend. It's for my birthday party. I'm obviously in a very festive mood.

Andrew is actually driving up with me, he'll pick me up later tonight, which will be good. As if the stuff here isn't bad enough, I'm sort of running out of money, so having him share gas expenses with me will be good. Not like I don't value his company too, of course.
I want to tell Andrew what's happening so badly, although of course I know I can't. It's weird, he's a year younger than me but he's always so much more together than I am. He's motivated and focused on school, he spends a lot of time working out, he's very sure of where he's going in life and knows how to get there. Also he just started dating a girl, his first serious girlfriend, it sounds like, and I think he wants to introduce her to the family this weekend. He asked if it was ok to bring a friend along. I said yes, of course. It makes it a lot easier not to tell him about this stuff.

Last night I got a text from Kevin saying that he and Sarah had broken up. And it says something about me that I'm now a little more fucked up about that than I am about the possibility of a monster. I'm not sure whether it says something good or bad.

I didn't want this. I didn't want them to break up. I thought I was over him, and I certainly never tried to do anything to try and split them apart, but I know, I just know that I contributed to their breakup. It seems like everything is fucked up here. Jill is gone, Kevin and Sarah hate each other now, and I don't even know where Christian is- he sort of dropped out of sight after Jill's funeral, and he doesn't answer my calls anymore, although I still see him on campus sometimes. I miss him. And I miss Jill. She'd know what to do about Kevin. She was always so much better at matters of love. So much more confident, so much more brave.
The only people I talk to now are Jess and Kevin, and Andrew, on the phone. I've almost lost touch with Clara but that's really my fault- she wasn't a friend of Jill's, and I kept telling myself she wouldn't understand...maybe I should call her. I'm just rambling here, trying to work out on paper (paper? On the internet, I suppose) what I should be working out in my head. It's like a tangled ball of string, the Gordian Knot, and I wish I had a sword to cut this problem in half.
I'm going to sleep early, I think.

Thursday, January 27, 2011


Not a good day.

BSG came up to me today. I was walking to the bus stop and I didn't see him until he tapped me on the shoulder from behind...I turned around thinking it was one of my friends but when I saw him I stumbled over my own feet, almost fell, almost screamed. He looked worse than before- remember I said he was this sort of skinny grad student-looking guy? Pale blue eyes with dark circles under them? Well he's even thinnner now, and the circles have gotten bigger. He had a cut on his face over his lip, and apparently hasn't shaved in a while.
He leaned back from me when he saw I was backing away, and held out his hands. He wears black gloves. I stopped (I know, stupid) and asked what he wanted. He looked at me, sort of- his eyes kept darting all around, like he was the one being followed. If he didn't terrify me, I'd almost feel bad for him. He kept twitching and shaking. He looked like an addict.
"You shouldn't look," he said, "You know these spires and cages." (at least, I think he said "spires and cages"...he was sort of mumbling so it could be something else).
I am, as frequently mentioned, a massive wuss, but it was confusing enough that I just asked "what?" sort of mystified, and he replied, "HE sees you, little girl. HE knows your name." And it sounds like it'd be in a threatening voice, but it was more he was embarrassed, or like a little kid told to say sorry. Reluctant, and quiet, but of course he did get that emphasis on HE that made it sound like capital letters. And then of course there's the implied threat.
I stepped back again, ready to make a run for it. There were a lot of people around- I was in the middle of campus- but I felt very unsafe. You know that cold but sweaty, lightheaded feeling that comes over you in waves when you're in a complete panic? Well, maybe you don't.
He moved toward me again and repeated himself- "HE knows your name"- and then there was this quiet noise behind me and I whipped around, but there was nothing there, and I turned back and the man actually growled, deep down in his throat like an animal, and bared his white teeth that suddenly seemed too big for his head so I turned and ran.

He looked as if he would have torn my throat out.

Sorry, Pete, but I didn't think of getting a photo until I was long gone, and as it turns out my camera batteries are dead. I stayed on campus for another two hours. I stayed in the dead center of the student union, surrounded by lights, noise, people. When I finally got up the courage to leave and catch the bus home I went almost a mile out of my way, and kept looking around for BSG or...the other thing. Neither showed up. But when I got home I found this stapled to the same telephone pole where Jill's wanted poster had been burned so badly:

 In case you can't read it, it says "208", something in Russian, and the bottom right corner is burnt away. It is an actual photograph, on photo paper rather than printed from a computer. The Russian...I guess OH is still "him" (well, "HIM") but beyond's scary though. It's in Jill's handwriting. And I don't know where the picture was taken, although it looks like somewhere in the southwest by the scenery...I don't recognize that wooden (?) thing on the side, either. And I don't know what "208" means. Or who left it. But if it's BSG, that's really, really bad, because he might know where I live now. I called the police with half the story, i.e. the half without the monster. They told me that I should start recording what BSG did, exact times and everything, and that I should probably stay with a friend or in a hotel for a little while. Other than that, there's not much they can do.
I'm staying with Jess tonight but I can't be with someone all the time, and honestly I don't think it would help much. I think BSG's boss isn't going to be thrown off by me sleeping over at people's houses, and I can't put them in danger.

I still haven't seen the monster. For some reason this scares me even more.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

I found the fish

..and the context has hit a bit close to home.
First let's get the obligatory update out of the way: Saw BSG on campus yesterday but from a distance. I don't know if he saw me or not. He's got a new hat, it looks insanely stupid. It's a cheapy fedora, looks like he bought it at Hot Topic or something. It's making it a little bit hard to keep being nervous about him.
No sign of the monster, although I've been jumping at shadows more than usual recently. Haven't talked to my friends in a little while, but I'm due to have dinner with Jess tonight so that's good.

On the subject of blogs...I'm not going to start calling myself a Keeper like a lot of you are doing. I mean, no offense or anything, it's just...I don't know how that'll help, and I'm not ready to take on a responsibility that I A). don't really understand and B). probably can't actually shoulder. And I guess...I don't know, just hang on, everyone who's fighting.

I'm kind of trying to avoid the topic at hand.
I found this blog, Icthyological, through The Tutorial. Frankly I can't believe I didn't find it sooner, as the girl who ran it posted frequently on M's blog, and M even drew his own (X) and fish and posted a picture in this post. Which is entitled Fish. Obviously I need to do closer readings.

So the blog,'s by a girl from Tempe, Arizona. Where Jill was from (God I just typed "is" instead of "was" and my heart skipped a beat). And what happens to this girl is awful. If I didn't know I'd shrug it off, but I do,'s so bad.

As far as my fish goes (because I'm getting all possessive over a chalk drawing of a fish?), the comments on that post and the next indicate that a few people are drawing fish as some kind of message. Hope or something. It sounds sort of sweet but ultimately meaningless, and then I remember that when I saw the fish, even in conjunction with the (X), I did feel better. And somehow that's even stranger than accepting the monster.

So I drew a fish on my front step in white chalk. Like the (X) carved into my baseball bat, it can't hurt and it might help. There are all these little talismans that I feel like I need now, though I have never been superstitious. I suppose it makes sense with the OCD, actually. Sometimes I can trick myself into not doing things in groups of three, or stepping on cracks, if I tell myself I have a talisman that exempts me from the rules. Maybe I should make a talisman I can carry around with me, the (X) or something. Actually that's not a terrible idea.

Anyway, I'm not even sure what I'm saying in this entry. I'm tired, and I have a bad headache, and whatever was wrong with the lights last semester has come back, so my landlord's going to see about it. Hopefully he can actually fix it rather than it going away on its' own, although really either would be fine. It's just that this constant flickering makes it really hard to concentrate on anything, and I still have two proposals to write because apparently I didn't feel eough like shit already.

Sorry guys. Man, I just keep apologizing, don't I.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

I just realized something terrible.
I was sleeping just a few minutes ago. I skipped class, bad move, whatever, that's not important...but in any case I was sleeping on my couch and I had a dream about the monster, don't remember it exactly, and I woke up and it hit me so hard I couldn't breath for a second.

If the monster is real, then the blogs are real, and that means that people are dead and I brushed it off as part of a game.
That means that Jay and the people from Just Another Fool are dead, and probably so are Zero and Amelia. As of last night, Fizzbomb might be too. Nessa and Robert Sage had their memories erased, although Robert seems to be getting his back...and I can't figure out if that's a good or bad thing.
And then there's people's families and friends...M's brother and the other people he talks about, Liz from Seeking Truth, Ryan and possibly Jessa of EverymanHYBRID, Milo from TribeTwelve, and Jean's family...that's so many people, and it's not even counting the blogs I haven't read, or the people who don't have blogs at all. It's horrifying.

The one that hurts the most is Zero, though. Because I talked to him, albiet briefly. He commented here. He was kind. This was a few posts after I basically made fun of him for, as I put it, "slightly losing it". And he left a comment saying that he was sorry. So I hope that, against all logic, he survived the solstice and is living somewhere in safety. I hope that the other missing people are safe, or can be found.

I can't fight. I don't know how and I honestly don't think it'd work. I can't offer protection or a safe place to stay or anything more than words on a screen. I wish I could erase the awful things that have happened, but the best I can do is what I always do: watch. I just hope that the act of observing will change the observation enough to make a difference.

Saturday, January 22, 2011


I sort of let the comments build up while I was....I don't know, accepting things? Anyway, I try to be good about answering people, so I'm just going to do it in one big post. Also I'm going to adress some things in blogs. Comments first.

Like I said in the last post, thank you, thank you for caring about me and encouraging me and telling me I'll be okay. This is the strangest thing I've ever dealt with, and the most frightening. Knowing that you care is immeasurably comforting.

Pete, thank you for the offer of this point I'm really not sure what to do myself, let alone direct people. I hope you're staying safe, though, because from your most recent blog entry it sounds like you've got it a lot worse than I do.

Thage, I appreciate the sentiment and I really, really hope you're right. Some kind of shield, physical or mental, would be fantastic right now.

Darby, I've been following your blog too and I'm really, really glad you're ok. And I'm definately with you- I can't even describe how relieved I am not to have seen it. Or how scared I am of when/if I do.

Scott, thanks for talking to me too...I hope the bat is enough to buy me some time at least. And from your blog...god, I really, really hope you're ok.

Now about the blogs:

I'm following a lot of people, although I don't think it shows up on the "following" section because I've been doing it anonymously. I see what you're doing. So I'm going to try to comment a bit more because I know how much it helps me to know that people are paying attention, and I want to try to help you all, even if it's in the smallest possible way.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Sorry, again.

I have to stop fucking around.

Not drunk this time, and I'm determined not to have a panic attack while writing this. Four in the last three days is too many. I can have one after, but not during.
I went to class yesterday. It wasn't easy to concentrate through my hangover, and it was difficult to force myself out of the door. I kept checking the trees for long limbs and blank faces. You'll have to forgive me but I still can't handle writing the name. I think I read too much fantasy as a kid, but I somehow retained this idea that names have power, and I don't want to give it power by naming it. It's stupid, yes, but it might help in some tiny way.
I went to class and took my notes and didn't see Blue Scarf Guy (BSG from this point forward) and went straight to my car and then straight to Kevin's, where I stayed the night. And I'm sorry about that, too, because his girlfriend Sarah is mad at him now for letting me sleep over, although of course nothing happened. I had my third panic attack at his place, and he hugged me while I cried and trembled, although I couldn't tell him what was wrong. I can't let this spread. Not to Jess, not to Clara or Christian, not to my family, especially not to Kevin.
No, I'm not going to think about what I feel about Kevin right now, there's other things to worry about.

So I went to class yesterday and today, and tonight I locked all the doors and closed all the blinds, and I'm sitting in my living room with my baseball bat across my lap. I made an improvement to the bat, too. Also probably quite stupid, but it gives me a bit of comfort, and it doesn't hurt.

I have a wood burning tool for some reason, so I thought it would be a good idea to burn the (X) into both ends of the bat. Like I said, stupid, right?

And more apology. Not just for posting drunk, or posting so often, but for...being so weak and selfish, I suppose. I haven't seen the monster yet. I haven't been attacked or even threatened directly, unless those flowers were a threat of some kind. And here I am crying and having anxiety attacks and whining about not deserving what I'm getting. I mean, I don't, but aren't I following at least ten or fifteen blogs where people have it so, so much worse? And you're not giving up. You're fighting, or running, or falling in love. Some of you are even joking about it, which I can't seem to do unless I'm drunk out of my skull. And you're talking back to me. You care about some stupid girl on the internet and her dead friend enough to let me know you care.

I'm not denying any of the stuff I said in the last post: I'm still not a survivor. But I'm not going to give up so easily, and I'm going to try my best not to whine anymore. Compared to all of you, I haven't got the right. I won't let you down.

As far as the memory thing goes...I'm going to leave that alone for now. I think it might be better that I don't look too deeply into whatever past connection I have with this thing might be...right now I need to focus on the immediate situation. If that situation changes, I'll start exploring the past...but for now I'm just going to leave well enough alone.

One more thing: I've gone back and tagged all of the posts related to Jill and the monster with the (X), including the coded ones, and removed all the other tags. I guess there's no denying what this is now, and if anyone can learn from what's happening to me, or takes any comfort in knowing they're not alone, I'd like them to be able to navigate easily.

Okay, I've said my piece. I'll keep you updated, as well as I can with school and all. And I can feel that panic attack creeping up my rib cage, but at least I was true to my word. I got through this entry.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

drungk. first thsing I do with my id is buy afuck ton of nice booze (hey thanks Jamesons for being delicious) and drink my ass off. and then of couse post to this fucking blog instead of finding people. self destructive right?

what the fuck is wrong with me.

sonow tha I know this is real, what now? Does the monster under the tree get me? Do I get tentacled to death and hung upsidedown in a tree with my fucking guts hanging down? Does some psycho bitch in texas come for me or is taht Blue Scarfy's job? cuz he sucks at not beind noticed so I probly have a chance if he's out for me. Like, he's really, really bad at what he does.

But guys I'm scared. Not just because I'm drunk and a monster's maybe coming for me. Because I am not a survivor. Letme say that again so you know it's true: I am not a survivor. In the time between Jill trying to cut down the tree and her death I had twelve panic attacks, 2 were in class, and i dind say anything about them here because I canst talk about it to even myvery best friends becasue I'm ashasmed to be like this and I hate thast part of me so fucking much.
oh and by the way I would've failed all my classes last semester if my teachers weren't good people. I had to graduate hisghscool late because I can't handle the stress of math.
Also: I'm a pacifist, which is a nice way of saying I' a totall pussy. I hate guns, scared of them, i can't use a kniefe because Id' stab myself for certain, and I think if anyone ever trie to attack me I wsouldn't even be able to hit back, id' just faint or something. I'm not even muscular.

I'm not a policeman like Zeke or tough like the resto f you. I'm not even smart enough to figure this shit out until a few days ago.


god I'm scared but it allseems so far away right now...half because of the whiskey, obvs, but I think its also because I dont know what to do. If this were a peson I could call the police, stay at other peoples houses, buy a real weopon ieven if I'm to scaed to use it. But not this. I can't evne say the naem now that it might be real. It scares me not because of what it might do but because it exists at all, this fake monster, this fucking internet meme. what the hell did I do t odeserve this. stupid question, what did Jill do?

And i have school tomorow, and I still have to passs this semester even though there's a fake mosnter  because if it really is fake I'm screwed too, by real life. I want the second option to be true, god do I want the monster to be fake. I'll faiil a semester if it somehow makse this go away like it never was and hasve Jill back and everything.

I miss you Jill. If I believed you would you still be alive

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

I hate this all so much. I am clinging, fucking clinging to the idea that BSG knows my passwords somehow, but it still doesn't did Jill know when she would die? That's where it all falls apart. That and...I keep having these memories, this sense of deja vu or forgetting something important, and in one of the first few posts I mentioned that I lost time as a kid and Jill lost the same time...what does that mean because I still don't remember that time  and I don't even remember not remembering it most of the time and I googled it and it's not normal to be missing memories from as old as six years old and it was in the forests so what the hell does that mean?

Today is my 21st birthday.

Monday, January 17, 2011

fuck, oh fuck.

Hey, remember when I said I wouldn't be posting for a while? Yeah, this happened.

Blue Scarf Guy is back, I saw him on campus today. He's still wearing the same thing, and still watching me closely (this time I was getting lunch with Kevin at the student union). He was there when we went into the building, hanging out by the administration building, and then when we came out he was by the bookstore, which is on the other side of the food court. And I was really pissed off, and kind of scared, so I did something pretty stupid: I went up to him.
"Hey, this is going to sound a little weird, but do I know you from someplace?" I asked, trying to be subtle. He looked down, as if he were surprised to see me. He's youngish by the way, like late 20's. He looks like a grad student. Brown hair and pale eyes with shadows underneath.
"I don't think so. You don't know me, you don't know what you're doing, you don't know anything." He said. He didn't sound angry, more tired. And then he started humming a little tune, and I jumped back away from him and ran back to where Kevin was waiting for me.

This is what he was humming:
Specifically, the section that goes "don't be sudden, just look around us/ all things shining, all things shining"

Which is my yahoo email adress. all_things_shining. I took it from the song, just like I took my gmail adress and my youtube account (this is one of my favorite songs).

If this is a coincidence, it's one hell of an uncanny one.

And you know what almost certainly isn't a coincidence? I basically ran home (thank God it's a holiday, no classes) and finally looked through the first few entries of this blog again, the art ones, and I found some very, very troubling stuff.

On the 9th of september, in the Shepard Fairey post: randomly capitalized letters in the last three paragraphs that spell out HES HERE JILL.

In the post about Jill freaking out after Kevin's birthday, in the first paragraph: HIM

In the yarn photo/photography post:  HE IS HERE FOR JILL HELP US

And then there's Jill predicting her own death, and the burned posters, and the emails and twitter posts and phone calls and...Im hyperventilating. oh please  this can't mean what it means


This is about an hour and a half later. I had a really, really bad panic attack, one of the worst in my life so far. I was shaking and crying and hyperventilating in my closet (when I have panic attacks I get into the smallest space possible, it makes me feel safer).  It took almost an hour for me to get coherent again. I don't like talking about this shit but somehow it feels decietful for me not to mention it.

Okay, let's see if I can do this without...yeah.
There have been a lot of things that I can't explain in a logical way. I can't account for what this fucking horrible blog has become. There's no logical, pragmatic, real explanation for some of these things. Which means, much as I hate it, much as it makes me feel cold and terrified and disoriented and alone, this might be the only possibility left. And it sounds so stupid, it sounds like I'm going crazy, but if anyone could give me a better explanation I would cling to it with all my heart. But this is it. This is the only thing left. God help me I'm starting to believe that the monster is real.And typing those words is enough to make me start shaking and crying again. god oh god this is so fucked

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Oh, Drunk Ali.

Oh my gosh you guys, I'm really sorry. I realize how the last entry sounded, but honest to God I was just really, really drunk, and I tend to leave myself notes when I'm blackout (don't ask). Obviously I need to not leave my laptop on this page when I'm drunk...
The party was good, obviously. I drank almost an entire bottle of champagne by myself, which is why Clara took me home, and why I apparently thought it was an awesome idea to leave notes for my sober self. Man, no wonder I don't write essays drunk. "THIS IS A PROOF", hahahaha, awesome. Like I said though, I am sorry it sounded like I was playing the Slender Man game...It's sort of a fine line between fiction and reality here, and I hate crossing it, personally. But thanks for your concern.

I'm going to wait on taking Drunk Ali's advice, though, because I'm really busy today. Tomorrow is the first day of spring semester (don't ask me why it starts in the middle of the week) and I'm taking some pretty work-intensive classes (2 writing and 2 studio arts, among others).
**edit: I just heard from Clara that the start of the semester has been pushed back a day, in response to the President coming to the U of A to speak. I'm going to try to go, but I doubt I'll get in.

Posts on this blog are probably going to get a bit more infrequent now that school's started again. If there's any news on Jill's case I'll let you know, and same for Blue Scarf Guy, but yeah. Don't worry if this blog goes silent for a few weeks. I'm probably totally fine.
ok im blackout so DO NOWT FOR GET THWIS. S. first enterise lookats the atr psoats again LOOK AT HTEM CLOSELY capitalizatiosns ok captializatsons  lsoosk at the casps for fusf csake yous tupid fuck whwete teh fusck is psublish wathstsever SO NOT SVORGEST THSIS IS A PROOF ITHS IMPORTANT STOTATP PEEAETEENDING

Monday, January 10, 2011


I just realized that I haven't posted in a while, and I wanted to let you guys know what's been going on lately. Which is...not much.

The police have no new leads, or at least none that they're sharing. I have the feeling if they come up with anything new, I won't hear about it from them. I still haven't figured out anything new, despite searching. I still haven't seen Blue Scarf Guy and I'm beginning to think he was just some guy on campus, and I'm paranoid. I threw out the dead flowers.
The most interesting thing that's happened is that I've bought books for my classes next semester.
No, I tell a lie. Kevin's hosting an early birthday party for me (I turn 21 on the 19th) which is combined with a last-day-before-we-go-back-to-school party (for some reason classes start in the middle of the week, on the 12th). It's tonight, I'm pretty excited.

Also: I finally found my camera cord, here's the picture of the fish and (X) I saw after Jill's funeral.

I should mention that I know that the (X) is usually referred to as the operator symbol, but (X) is shorter and it's how I came to know the symbol, so that's what I'll continue saying.
If anyone can tell me the significance of that fish, if there is a significance to it, I'd appreciate it. It almost certainly doesn't have anything to do with Jill, but I'd be interested to know anyway.
And, because this entry isn't spastic enough...have you guys heard Mumford and Sons? They're all I can listen to lately. God, that guy's voice is so beautiful. For the last few days it's been them and Andrew Bird on infinite rotation. If you like indie music and guys with fantastic voices, check them out.

Anyway, yeah, nothing new, just letting you know I'm still here, in case you were worried.

Saturday, January 1, 2011


So today I come home from Jess's house to find this:

which is, if you can't tell, a bouquet of dead flowers on my doorstep. Which might be nothing, but given my associations with bouquets on doorsteps...not good. No note, so that's at least a relief.
It's probably a coincidence. Even if it's not a coincidence, I'm not telling the police yet, because like I said before, I think they're starting to dismiss me a bit.  So, either someone randomly left some dead flowers on my stoop, which I'm not discounting because I've seen stranger, or someone (Blue Scarf Guy?) knows where I live and is trying to tell me something. If it's the latter, they need to make their message a bit clearer, because I don't get it. Is it a threat, a proposition, a study in botany? They're tiger lilies, I think, if that means anything. I looked up the meanings of tiger lilies online (flowers have meanings, you know, which is why you shouldn't give lavender to your date). Tiger lilies apparently mean "wealth and pride" which...well, I don't have any money to speak of, and as for pride, I don't think I'm any more proud than anyone else. I don't know. It's all a bit stupid, and probably meaningless in the end.

In any case, no need to worry, I've got some insurance if Blue Scarf Guy or anyone else comes prowling. Yesterday I went to Goodwill and bought a baseball bat, which is currently sitting next to my door (which is locked and deadbolted at all times, by the way). It's got a nice solid heft to it and makes me feel pretty damn secure, frankly. It's weird, I'm not a violent person (I really, really hate guns) but having this weapon is doing wonders for my peace of mind. Of course, if anyone actually tries to break into my house I'd probably just scream and drop it on my own foot, but it's still somewhat comforting.

Oh, and the party was fun. Good friends, good food (Clara made a cake), and lots of not-so-great wine, but it was cheap, so what're you going to do.

It's just a pity that I had to come home to this slightly incomprehensible, slightly unnerving little offering.

Bonus pictures:
My bat (blurry, sorry). I'm naming it Balmung in a nod to Norse mythology, and because I'm a geek who names everything she owns (my bike is named Angela, and my laptop is named Clancy, for anyone who's interested).

Closeup of the flowers