Seen Him

ORIGINALLY WRITTEN THURSDAY, JANUARY 13TH; 7:00 PM

I saw him today--Mr. Smiles, that is. Looks like he's dressed in a hoodie or something. Whatever he's wearing has crazy long sleeves, too. I couldn't make out his face very well, but I'm positive he was smiling. He was outside Ashley Grant's house.

I started walking up to him when a cop stopped me. In hindsight, I don't know what the fuck I was going to do: strangle him with my bare hands? Yeah right--like I'm going to let him chloroform me or whatever again.

Anyway, the cop said, "What are you doing here?"

Me-- "Came to check on Ashley."

Cop-- "Ashley is fine at the moment. Please go home, or I'll call someone to take you there."

Me-- "Bullshit she's fine! That smiling bastard is right over there!"

I pointed and he whirled around. Just my luck, he was nowhere to be seen.

So, long story short, I got escorted home by a cop. My parents freaked the fuck out--I think they're going to start keeping a closer eye on me--might have to do my blogging before the ass crack of dawn.

Tara's telling me to let it go. She thinks the police can handle it and that I'll just get in trouble if I keep at this. I...I said some pretty harsh things to her. She started crying and left.

Shit. Now my best fucking friend is pissed at me. She doesn't understand, though. Vanessa was in my house. Under my protection. And now she's gone and this smiling fucker's going to do it again. I have to stop him. Even if it means killing him in cold blood, I have to stop him.

Success

ORIGINALLY WRITTEN MONDAY, JANUARY 10TH; 4:12 PM

a door left unlocked

an open invitation

her name is revealed

It's a sophomore named Ashley Grant. I think I know her. I think Tara's little sister is friends with her.

I don't know how long I have before Mr. Smiles comes after her, but he's probably started tapping on her window by now.

I'll stop him this time.

Oh, and the police in this town really do need better security.

I Got Punched Today

ORIGINALLY WRITTEN FRIDAY, JANUARY 7, 5:00 AM

Carol Anne hit me in the face at school today.

I knew she was going to do it. I saw her about to do it. I let her. I didn't even hit back.

The funny thing is, I think Tara was a few seconds away from doing it for me. I've never seen her that angry. She should be angry at me, though.

I'm tough. I'm tougher than even the boys at this school. Everybody knows it. I should have done something.

Why did I just fall over? What did that bastard do to me that made me fall over. And fuck it, he doesn't get special treatment in his pronouns. No capital letter bullshit.

I have to find out who got the flowers. I have to save them this time. I know I can do it.

It's so fucked up that the cops aren't even telling the girl who got the flowers it was her. She has a right to know, damnit.

You know, I almost hope it's me. I hope the bastard comes after me. I'll be ready.

Yeah, I'll be fucking ready this time. Shoot first, questions later.

NOW (1)

There's these spiders, Zodaraiidae. They feed by looking like ants, walking right into a colony and just chowing down. Except, they don't look like ants, not really. Not if you look real close. But in some ways, they mimic ant behavior, to avoid detection. Ants assume they're seeing another ant. Like they can't not see the ant, like they refuse to see what the spider truly is.

It's over. I keep telling myself that. But I found one spider. How do I know there aren't more in the nest?

School Report

ORIGINALLY WRITTEN WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 5TH, 12:01 AM

They aren't saying who got the flowers. I don't think even the fucking girl knows. It's pretty damn clear someone did, though, because Tara found a fresh petal while we were walking to lunch. Given how many people could have kicked it around during the school day, it could've come from anywhere.

Everyone's nervous. The curfew's gotten more extreme--everyone is to go straight home after school, preferably in groups or with teachers. There was a big lecture today--telling us common sense bullshit like 'don't talk to strangers and avoid strange cars'.

I think some people blame me. I don't like the way they're looking at me, especially Carol Anne. Honestly given my fail at the slumber party I don't really blame them.

I feel like I should be fucking doing something, you know? I feel weak and defenseless. What if Tara's the one who got the flowers. What the fuck do I do then? What can I do?

Bad to Worse

ORIGINALLY WRITTEN TUESDAY, JANUARY 4TH, 2011; 3:21 AM

I can't sleep.

Vanessa is missing and I should have done something. I could have done something.

She was jumpy the whole of Friday night. The other girls kept trying to keep her mind off of it, tried to keep her interested in other things. And it worked for a little while. But then she got up to go to the bathroom and she just started screaming at the top of her lungs and pointing out the window.

The cops were in the house in a flash, like they'd been sitting outside with their fucking ears to the door. She said she saw 'HIM' standing outside, looking in. Saw 'HIM' smiling at her.

They didn't find anything, of course. Told her to calm down and that they'd keep her safe. Yeah, that fucking worked out great, didn't it?

Nothing really happened again until Saturday night. I'd passed out on the floor and woke up when Vanessa started shaking me. Said she saw 'HIM' again, standing a bit away from the house. I told her to tell the cops, but she said 'HE'd leave if they started coming. I asked her what she wanted me to do about 'HIM'.

She told me she wanted me to shoot 'HIM'.

I should have. I should have but I didn't fucking know! How could I have fucking known?!

I grabbed my rifle, loaded a few rounds, and walked out of the house. I saw...it was the guy, the one making the lewd gestures. I didn't get a good look at 'HIM'. I should have shot 'HIM' but I didn't. I started walking towards him, gun aimed.

"Get off my property." I ordered, probably sounding magnitudes less tough than I was trying to sound.

I got close to...to whoever it was. I tried to look them in the face. I don't remember much, but something happened, something happened I don't know what.

When I woke up, I was in the emergency room. Vanessa and Tara were there and Vanessa was a wreck. Devastated.

According to her and Tara, I just fell over. I don't remember falling over. I don't remember anyfuckingthing except that I tried to look 'HIM' in the eyes. Tried to tell him to get off my fucking property again.

I don't know why I'm writing it like that. 'HIM'. It's just, that's her tone. The tone Vanessa used.

I don't know what's going on. The slumber party was a bust after that. They took Vanessa into direct police custody. They kept me under observation for a while but there wasn't anything wrong with me besides a bump on my head from when I fell.

She disappeared. From police custody. Just vanished. They still haven't found her. School was canceled, supposedly because of that, but I heard something different. I heard the janitor found some more flowers in another girl's locker.

I don't know what's going on. I don't remember anything about the guy.

Except one thing. I know 'HE' was smiling. I can't remember what the guy was wearing. I can't remember what 'HIS' face looks like. But I remember he was smiling.

I'll be ready for the smug bastard. Next time I'm shooting first.

I. I Don't Even Know.

It's been...well, it's been months.

I tried to update this, I did. But instead, the posts sat on my computer. Who would believe me?

But it's over, now. It's over and I want to start posting my previous entries. Please, keep an open mind.

But, Jesus Fucking Christ. How can I tell others about this? How can I give someone else the burden of this knowledge?

You'll have to see for yourself, I guess.

--Jeanette Angeline Cotton