11/26/99
Dear Stranger,
There's just been no end to my torture. He taunts me. I see him in the corner of my eye but when I look, he's gone. I can't go to my family because they'll just think I'm crazy. Why didn't I just hide in those woods, succumb to my new found life of constant paranoia, anger, and fear? Because at the time, I never understood my situation. I saw myself as a fucking victim of pure dumbness. But really, I was meant to be lost. I was meant to never return home. All I cause is just pain to those around me. I see my parents look at me with worry in their eyes. I hear them talking about getting a shrink to analyze me. My sister. She'd have to go to school with me even though she graduated. I beat up a guy who pissed me off. I force myself to keep my mouth shut. This scar on my face is a reminder of who I'm dealing with. I'm not okay. I'm not insane, I'm not crazy, I'm just not okay. I might as well run away. Save them the sight of my constant state of whatever state I'm in.
I took a long time to think about this and I will. I'll run away. Dear Stranger, this might as well be my real last note. I can't take the faceless man torturing me in public, at home, everywhere. I'd have to face him by myself and I'll make sure nobody talks me out of it. Not only that, it's the temptations that urge me to go. Whispers buried in a crowd of noise tell me that I have to. That it's the only way to keep my family safe and happy. And it might sound so fucking stupid, but I might as well listen to them. Dear Stranger, this is the end of a fuckery I'd like to call, my life. No more notes, no more opening up. No more anything.
Sincerely for the last time,
⨂din
YOU ARE READING
Dear Stranger
HorrorA boy is assigned a project for Film Class. Create a video of the students' choice. His is a documentary. Going into the woods alone, his simple project turns deadly.
