I'm sorry I haven't been very communicative. God, things are bad. Really bad. I mean, not as bad as stuff like Ava getting kidnapped by Redlight(s) and Vivi & Chester having happy fun time with Tenebria and Robert nearly getting lobotomized and all that other insanity, but pretty bad for a girl who, until just a couple months ago, was just a nerdy girl going to college and hoping to be a writer.
I'm on the run. With Mom. This is even harder than it sounds. I managed to salvage her medication, but it's not going to last very long. She's barely coherent as it is.
So...after the events I wrote about in my last entry, I realized that I had to get out of there. My dad was...being controlled. He wasn't himself, and I know that he was...is a Proxy or Hollowed or whatever the hell you call it. My daddy is being mind-controlled by a bloody eldritch abomination, and I can't do anything about it.
Oh God, I have to put this down for a minute.
Okay...I'm sort of calm-ish now. Anyway. So I realized I had to leave. I grabbed my laptop and started making transactions. Point of the matter is, I cleaned out my savings account and transferred it to a separate one, one my dad can't see or touch. It was a pretty substantial amount, so I should be okay for a while on that front. The whole damn time I was in my room, I could hear my dad breathing outside my door. I shouldn't have to be scared of my dad. God damn it, this is insane...
I had to wait a long time before Dad went away. Soon as he did, I grabbed the Louisville slugger in my closet and moved the dresser away from the door. Sure enough, he was right outside.
I...I had to hit him quite a lot before he stopped. God, there was blood all over the place, on my hands, my shirt, the floor...stopthinkingaboutthatitsnothelpingstopitstopitstopit
I got Mom out. Took my laptop with me. Had a feeling I might need it. Grabbed as many clothes as I could stuff into my backpack. Got my wallet and keys, my phone. Set out.
We're pretty far from home now. Been driving almost nonstop. The car's in decent shape, but I just know my dad's reported it stolen, so I freak out every time I see a cop. At least since I'm 18, I can't be reported as a runaway.
While we drive, I try talking to Mom. Ask her questions, figure out more of why Slender Man's been after her, why he killed her brother, why he's stalked her since she was just a kid. Something she said made me think.
"I am not his. I will never be his. Nothing he can do to me will change that."
It was a rare moment of coherence, and then she was back to shivering in the passenger seat and peering out the windows, terrified of every tree and phone pole. God, that sound so...so stupid...being scared of bloody telephone poles.
So right now, we're hunkered down in a gas station with really awful wi-fi. Won't say where, of course. My phone keeps getting calls, mostly from Dad, but I don't dare answer.
I'm scared. I'm so damn scared. Haven't noticed anyone following us, but I kept expecting to see that abomination staring at me.
I want...I want my daddy.
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