I saw it. Fuck, fuck, fucking hell I can't deny this anymore, there's not even that slight amount of hope that I'm just paranoid or I spend too much time on these blogs or that there's a real explanation for...I saw it. I was at the fucking grocery store this morning buying a bunch of shitty microwave food because I can't cook for shit and I was in the parking lot I picked up a jug of apple juice to put in my trunk and I saw it, I saw it, I saw it, I saw it oh my god and it was so so real. i feel dizzy. Something like that shouldn't be allowed to exist. I couldn't breathe, everything went white behind my eyes. It's real. Fucking real. It was across the parking lot by the entrance to the store. How the hell didn't people see it, a woman walked by close enough to touch its hand and I could see from across the asphalt that those fingers were so long, so long and grasping. Those strong twig fingers killed my friend.
I dropped the juice on my feet and the bottle broke. My pants smell like apples still and it makes me want to puke. It shouldn't be real, I shouldn't have seen it. Jesus Christ, God, oh God, where are You right now? How can You let these things exist?
This is later, not much though. I'm trying to keep it together but I'm shaiking so my typing might suck, sorry. Um. I saw it. Thats' where I get stuck. Come on, get past this. I saw it and then. And then. And then I dropped the juice and the bottle broke and I slammed the trunk and got into the car and locked the doors. It didn't move. It just tstared at me and I felt so so cold. I drove home faster than I've ever driven before and it's amazing I didn't crash and now I'm at home with all the doors locked and my stupid useless bat across my lap and every single light on even though it's broad daylight. I redrew the (X)s on the windows. Remember when I scrubbed them down? Ha, and now I'm jumping at every sound. Did it follow me home? Did it appear
No, no, no. We are not going down that fucking paranoid road. This is just like when I watch horror movies and get freaked out because I somehow convince myself that Michael Meyers is in my closet or something. With the obvious difference that Michael Meyers isn't real and this thing, God, this thing is real and solid and casting shadows in the albertsons parking lot. Just don't think about it for now ok? I'm okay. I'm okay. There's nothing behind me because I drew the symbols, I've got my bat, I've taken every precaution I can. I can't get up high because my house is only one story tall but I'm covering all my bases.
My heart feels like it's going to explode.