~*~
It was a mistake, oh what a mistake. But everything is a mistake in the end. Some say it was all of our management's fault. They should have looked up the campsite before dropping us off. Some say it was the forest ranger's fault, who was supposed to come around yearly to inspect all the camp sites in the area to make sure they meet safety regulations. Some say it was our fault, ironically.
If this story went public, I know the fans would believe me, what I saw. Why would I lie?
I'm writing this and posting it online in the hopes that a Directioner or a Jcat will come across this. I think it's terrible Management and the government is keeping this from everybody I know, but I've got little control on the situation. Especially since the FBI became involved in this. I know our families and friends will begin to wonder where we are, why we aren't responding to texts, email, our twitters etc. Eventually, the fans will begin to wonder. That time is coming very soon. Anyways, if you happen to be reading this, know that everything is true because I remember what I saw. I don't know how long this will be up online before someone finds it and takes it down. I will be punished, I know. At this point though, I don't care. They are now keeping me in the dark more than ever. It's just a neverending, true nightmare.
~*~
I was driving up the bumpy dirt road, Jim still repeating muffled words I couldn't make out.
I thought it would feel better to be with someone instead of driving in the darkness alone. I was wrong, it seemed worse. Not only could I possibly be charged with stealing a car, but possible abduction. I never really learned how old Jim was, but I assumed he was about my age, although he could be sixteen. Ugh, why was I thinking about this now? I think too much, even in near death situations.
"Ding, ding, ding watch out, someone is on the road," Jim sang.
On the road, what?
Squinting, into the distance I slammed on the brakes as I saw a figure was lying on the ground. Was it a deer? I couldn't tell.
The old rusty truck finally jerked to a stop, just a few inches by the figure.
"Are you okay?" I called, kicking the truck door open. "Wait…George?"
"Harry? Is that you?" George whispered, who was still lying in the middle of the dirt road.
"Where are-what happened to you?" I said, helping him up onto his feet.
"I was going to take a piss but I kept seeing these weird signs tacked on trees, and I found more and more…" George said, pulling out rolled up papers.
I examined the signs and my stomach felt like it turned over. All of the signs were like the papers Zayn showed me earlier, and they were all about the Slenderman.
They all had different messages, but were messily scrawled on loose leaf, with a tall stick figure beside the messages. 'No one will see you again,' 'On your knees,' 'He's coming,' 'He was waiting for you, fool!'
"And then, I started getting these awful stomach aches and everything became so dizzy. Where am I, Harry? What happened to the others?"
"Wait-you don't even know where you are? How did you get here?" I said.
"I remember running, trying to get out, I don't know."
"Well come on, get into the truck, we need to get out of here," I said, helping George into the passenger seat.
"Do you have any water? What about the others?" George croaked, glancing at Jim, who seemed to have dozed off.
"There isn't enough time to explain and I'll get you water when get the hell out of here" I said, starting up the truck.
