I can't figure out these goddamn notes. 

About twenty of them are some fucked up eyes, only about 7 have visible words, and 4 have nothing but scribbles.

This was a fucking waste of time.

I haven't had a call from the harassers for a few days, but Shannon tells me she swears she got a call from Brandon earlier today. It was just his breathing and mumbling, she thinks.

Btw, I was turned away from the police station today. None of them remembered me and thought my story about the callers was crazy.

Are they that busy or are they just fucking dumb?

Ugh, do you think the notes have a code of some sort? I fucking doubt it.

A Landlord's Rage

Sorry for the delay, I had to spend some time apologizing to Diane. She hasn't spoken a word to me since our fight...

Anyways, I went down this morning to see the guy. He took me to the door, unlocked it, and I found myself in Paul's familiar old place... Without most of the furniture, of course. He was quick to tell me that he was soon going to give the walls a good painting, after the rest of the furniture was gone. He was even nice enough to offer me color choices if I was interested in the apartment.

I told him I wanted to look around on my own, and thankfully, he obliged. 

I didn't have time to check out the remaining furniture to see if there was anything worth taking a look at. As the landlord left to do some non-described business, I immediately made my way to Paul's old bedroom. As expected, the place where the hole had been was obvious. I knelt down and tapped the panel, to see if it would give away easily. It didn't. The excuse Shiloh had given me wouldn't work so well now that I had to take a fucking hammer to the wall. I grabbed the one I had tucked into my pants and took a deep breath. I didn't want to cause too much noise...

Honestly, it's impossible to smash into a wall without making SOME noise. It only took three hits to make a hole big enough for my hand... But I knew anyone downstairs would have heard some thumps. I quickly reached into the wall, and began grabbing for whatever may be back there. My first act of stupidity was to not bring a flashlight... Though, the hole was barely big enough to fit my arm, let alone see inside.

... Just my fucking luck, as my hand was grabbing around inside the hole, the landlord came back up. Like a dumbass, I had even forgotten to hide the hammer back under my shirt, so it's not like I could have told him I found it already broken.

But that would have still been a bad excuse anyways.

So he started swearing, asked what I was doing, and I was feeling pretty pissed that I had been caught. I considered excuses that I had planned to use, but I had none for if he found me digging inside.

But whatever, I backed off from the hole and started apologizing. He wasn't having any of it, he still wanted to know why the hell I had put a new hole in the wall. I'm pretty sure he was ready to punch my face in. I panicked. I didn't want to get into a fight with this guy over this shit, so I just decided to tell him the truth. I reasoned that he would at least humor me.

I told him that my friend, at some point, had mentioned to me that he had hidden secret notes behind that very hole. When he stopped yelling and started looking confused, I decided to add to my story. Paul's will, he had hidden his will, and his last wishes to me and his family behind the wall. He had left his place in a hurry because he was on the run from the law. He didn't believe he would be free for long. Paul desperately wanted me to find these.

Or so I said. I begged the landlord to at least let me have a look, and he told me to go ahead.

Reaching as far as I could, I felt my hands touch paper. Hell yes, right? I smiled and looked at the landlord.

"I think the papers are here!"

"Pull them out then!"

I grabbed them and pulled them through the wall. I fumbled them a bit, having to crunch them some to fit them through. The first note in the stack was scribbled all over. The only words visible were LEAVE ME ALONE. I looked at the second one, it had eyes drawn all over it.

There were quite a few of these, I would have needed time to look through all of them. But first, I needed this landlord off my back. I sighed loudly. angrily thumping the ground with my fist. In the most anguished voice I could muster, I said "They're nothing but nonsense!"

I got to my feet, shoving the picture of the eyes into the landlord's face. "He fucking lied! He told me he had left me something important!" Before the landlord could say anything, I tossed the notes into the air. Scribbled pieces of paper, fleeting messages, eyes, eyes, and more eyes. The notes were a likely window into Paul's madness. "I knew he was rotten. He didn't just skip town to escape the cops, he skipped out on anyone who made the mistake of caring about him. A wild goose chase, that's what this was. A petty prank."

The landlord was pretty goddamn confused, I think. He just stared dumbly at all the pieces of paper. I took out my wallet and pulled out a few bills. "I'm so sorry I wasted your time, and I'm even more sorry for deceiving you. I will give you any money you need to fix that hole again, and even more for your trouble."

Money will get you places, everyone. REMEMBER THAT. I had to borrow from some of Shannon's spending money, though, but she said it was fine.

... It was nuts getting these notes, but at least now I have them. As said, most of them don't say much, but I figure at least one of them will push me in the right direction. I don't have much time tonight to look at them all, but I'll get through them by tomorrow.

Heck, maybe I will get through them tonight. Danny doesn't fucking sleep anymore, does he?

Gotta Make Me Some Holes

The thing Paul had spoken of before he disappeared was about... Well, his apartment.

Me and him had just been randomly sharing stories of injuries we got when we were younger. The doctors had encouraged me try and get him to talk about the past, to jog his memory and such. He really didn't have much to say, until he brought up "mental injuries".

I asked what he meant exactly and he told me that he had been hallucinating a few months ago. I was surprised, as this was the first time he had mentioned his crazed episode since being dropped into the clinic. I didn't even know if he had remembered any of it.

So, I asked him what he hallucinated about, and he didn't really say much for a few minutes. Eventually he started talking about his apartment, and how he had heard voices behind the walls all the time. I knew there had been cuts and indents to the walls when I found him... carving into himself, and I know Paul's family had paid for the repairs. What I, or probably anyone, didn't know is that Paul had done more then just that to his apparent talking walls.

"I cut out a section of the wall, behind my bed, and started placing notes in the hole." ... "I wanted to communicate to the hallucinations behind my walls. I don't remember if they ever really responded."

Shortly after that, I had to leave, and that was the last visit I ever had with him.

Paul had to have been talking about those notes behind his bed on Halloween. I believed they would still be there, hidden behind the bed. Paul's family had decided to pay for his rent until January, to see if he would recover before then. Aside from the repairs, I doubted the room would be any different.

Unfortunately, when I took a visit to the landlord today, the guy could barely recall who Paul was and had received no payments for the place's rent since October. He was removing the stuff from Paul's place and selling it. His memory was that the previous owner had agreed to this, and was long gone.

Guess that means I can assume that whatever happened to Brandon, happened to Paul as well. But that would mean Brandon is still out there somewhere. Alive, but forgotten.

The landlord had come across the hole in the wall after moving the bed. Of course, he fixed that. I have no idea if I can trust this, but he said he never checked behind the hole, and never found any notes. After asking if I was a friend of whoever had lived there, he asked if I was looking for a place.

I answered yes to both.

Tomorrow, he's letting me take a look at the apartment. Somehow, I'm going to have make another fucking hole and check for those notes. The landlord told me briefly that the fixed hole was still noticeable, and that he would need to paint over it. This is perfect for me. I just have to fucking do it without him seeing, then explain later why I made a new hole.

Fuck.

Why is it only Shannon and I who can remember Paul and Brandon? Whatever is going on, we're definitely knee deep in it. Knee deep in shit, really.

I just hope that when I do get behind the wall, that the notes are there. It is very possible for the landlord to have found them, disposed of them, and then forgotten about them completely.

Fucking unfair bullshit, that would be.

Let's get Irrational

I'm scared. I can't lie and say I'm not. I'm fucking scared.

I'm eyeing the phone that now innocently sits on top of our marble counter, chilling out with an empty pizza box. It's now an object of fear. I don't want it to get to me, I like to imagine I'm just a fool, that the bad people will eventually go away if I ignore them.

Then I think about what happened to Shiloh, and I can't help but feel scared. You guys are right. It's haunting me, you see. My dreams are shrouded in darkness. The glass house takes me away every night. Inside is a bright asylum, where the damned can never escape. It is far from a road to heaven. To call it that would be a bad joke. It waits to take me to hell.

A thousand hornet stings, that's how it feels.

I want to get to the bottom of all this. Who are the people stalking us? With Diane and the rest of them losing their memories, all I can ask myself is "What Now?"

I think I can find the truth here, and I do have one single lead.

I never thought to follow it before. I hardly wanted to believe it was real. Of course, I never thought this would get so bad. Why would I think that? I'm pretty much an everyday guy. Ordinary and boring. Nothing special about me. Or Shannon, even. Though, she may have been a bit too curious for her own good. What we thought were illusions were actually very real.

I've seen... things. Seen them with my VERY EYES. When the lights went out. When all light went away and just STOPPED, he appeared. Yeah. Those damn street lights.

...I could tell I was being observed. Does he always do that? I don't fucking know. The lights flickered back, and he was gone. It was only for a split second, such a small amount of time was easy for me to pretend I had imagined it. Even so, I was scared out of my mind. I rushed to the door, but it wouldn't open, and I got a call on my cell.

It was Paul.

"Do you believe what you see?" was the first thing he said.

I couldn't answer. I yelled and almost threw the phone before I got a hold of myself. I asked if it really was him.

He didn't say yes or no. He didn't say anything at all. There was a long moment of silence. I started counting the seconds. Seven... Eight... Nine... My patience was being tested. Ten... Eleven... Twelve. Twelve was when he finally answered.

"You knew I wasn't really gone."

Isn't that fascinating? I was expecting some cryptic ass message to follow, like 'Follow the rainbow to where the white rabbits play and the rivers join! Hurry, hurry, the clock is ticking!"

Instead, he gave me a very easy message.

"You're in the way, Dan. Remember what I told you the day before I made my decision? You should have." Then he hung up.

... I got a text right afterward. "Just remember that if you care to know where I've gone."

That was always a strange habit of his, always ending the conversations through text after we talked...

I started to get a headache. I could barely see the words on my phone as I started to sway from side to side. HIS empty face entered my vision, and my mind went blank. I... then woke up at home, freaked out, left that post. According to Diane (if I can even trust what she remembers anymore), I had simply went back inside, told her I needed to go, and drove back home. I don't remember doing any of that, though. Who's memory do you trust more? I'd like to trust my own, but I have none to even trust in this case.

... But I do remember what Paul told me the day before he disappeared, and I assume that was what he meant. It was perhaps the only thing he said concerning his hysteria.

I'm going to check it out. I need to make THIS count, I need to know what's up with Paul, at least. I wish there was an easy guide on this stuff, but there simply isn't. I need to stop blocking out the things I can't explain.

Maybe once I figure out what's going on with Paul, I can find out who the stalkers are.

The answer could be in what I saw when the lights flickered. That... dude.

For just a little while, let me believe that what I saw had been my tired mind playing tricks on me. For just a little while, at least.

Happy fucking Thanksgiving.

Out the Window

This is where I stare at my monitor and make an exasperated sigh. Fuck.

Okay, look, you can all stop telling me that I'm missing something. I don't care. I am just SO fucking tired and it's gotten so bad... 

I talked with Diane, of course, and now I am more confused than ever.

"Brandon? Who's Brandon?" These were her words. She did not, at all, remember who Brandon was. I am not fucking joking when I tell you this. She did not remember Brandon.

Hell, she barely remembers everything I told her about Paul... It was frustrating. I yelled. She ended up fucking crying, telling me that she thought I was better than that. I had mentioned that me and her had gotten a bit closer, but here we are. I freaked on her and ruined all of that. I was convinced she was determined to lie to me.

I had to get out of that place. I phoned in sick for work, something I've been doing too often lately, and took a walk around town.

Eventually, after I had calmed down a bit, I phoned Shannon. She wasn't surprised to hear about Diane, in fact, she already knew.

"I had talked to her a lot about him, you know." ... "Suddenly, on Sunday, she couldn't remember who he was."

Shannon was a lot better than me, and didn't assume Diane was lying. Shannon's into the whole 'Shit we don't understand is going down' idea. Like you all are.

I'm sorry but FUCK, THIS IS WEIRD. Shannon filled me in a few other things, like the fact that Brandon's friends don't even remember the dude. His fucking roommate can barely recall his name. They can't all be lying, or trying to forget about him, it's something ELSE, and I don't goddamn know WHAT.

Zeke, I keep seeing you referenced as if you're the Jesus to that Robert fucker's God status. I don't need your help, and I don't need you telling me cryptic shit. No one is fucking going to die, okay?

Shiloh, stop messing around and being an attention seeking asshole.

Sam, you're cool.

Robert(SageGuardianGodofallthepeasants) and his little crew piss me off. Your titles are annoying. They're pretentious. They're just plain STUPID. From now on, I am now Danny(Surly Dog).

Oh, look at the mysterious title I just gave myself, I am now the savior of worlds. How about we add Danny(Overlord of Surly Dogs). Hell fuck yeah, baby.

... I came home a bit later to find Diane gone. I freaked for a bit, realizing that there is NO RATIONAL EXPLANATION FOR ANY OF THIS. NONE AT ALL. FUCKING NONE.

I don't, I really don't want to think of an irrational explanation. I'm exhausted, just fucking exhausted.

Oh, and pretty scared. Can't forget that.

I really need sleep

. . .

I'm sorry but, I don't remember a lot of last night.

We all went to the library. It was closed for some reason... I think they were working on something for it? Ugh, well, we looked around a bit and eventually I found... Well no, first I fucking walked around to the back, where you can make your way to the park, right? A fucking squirrel jumped out and scared the shit out of me. I mean, fuck, can I be any jumpier?

Now, see, in this little alley/space before you follow along the path to the park, there is one single tree. I am POSITIVE I approached it with Diane, and saw an envelope in it. I grabbed it and saw my name was on it.

But, umm, then everything went blank. I woke up in my bed this morning with no memory past that. And no envelope. I asked Diane... She says there was no envelope, and that I hit my head after tripping or something. Apparently everyone had to bring me home because I was really out of it. Shannon wasn't there to see the thing, so she doesn't remember it either... However, she says that after a few minutes, I told everyone we were done and headed out for dinner like planned.

Umm, wtf?

I've had nights like this before, but only after getting SERIOUSLY drunk. But I don't think I was drinking...

I suppose this was a combination of lack of sleep, stress, and someone ACTUALLY hitting their head. The guy who called me must have just wanted to send me somewhere to annoy me, or saw I had a bunch of people and didn't go through with whatever they wanted. Fucking idiots.

Does lack of sleep affect memory? I think it does. That would make sense.

F the Police

The cops weren't too interested in the library meeting. In fact, they kind of just blew me off. A few of them barely remembered who I was, despite that I was in there just Wednesday about the callers.

Wtf is wrong with these people?

As they won't bother to check it out, I'm going to go ahead and do so. I know I said it would be a dumb idea, and that is why I'm grabbing Diane, Shannon, and a few other friends before I go. They don't really know WHY... But that doesn't matter. We're heading out for dinner afterward.

Time to go.

As Shannon said, Brandon's went missing. While a few people have expressed worry, no one seems too concerned over his disappearance. They are acting as if this is normal for him. From what we know, however, this is far from fucking normal for him. I don't know, maybe people are just confused. We don't want to get too panicked about it... The guy must have been having some problems, started acting odd, and said "kpeace" before getting the fuck out of here. Shannon has no clue, honestly.

One of the callers contacted me again today, where I was told to head to the public library tomorrow at six o'clock. I asked what they wanted and they hung up. Of course I won't be going. I'm not fucking stupid. I'll be contacting the police a bit later to tell them about this shit. Honestly, why tell me to go anywhere? They're nuts.

... Also, Jemma gave me the link to her channel. She's told me her friends really don't believe her, so she wants to get some video evidence. I hope she gets none. I don't want my little sister to be in danger. I really want her to be wrong.

I can't get any decent sleep anymore, this is ridiculous.

My Sister

No update on the callers, haven't heard from them since Sunday.

However, there is one thing. I recently got an e-mail from my younger sister who lives up in Ontario. Her name's Jemma. She and my mother moved there a few years ago.

Now, I have not mentioned this before, but I was never on good terms with my parents. For reasons I don't feel like getting into, I was basically kicked out of the house at 16. Fucking bullshit, the whole thing. Of course, Shannon and her family had been there for me. I moved in with them at the time, and I have come to consider her parents far better candidates to be my immediate family than my biological parents ever were.

Of course, me and my sister were close, despite this. We've kept contact ever since. I have not told her ANYTHING about Paul or the harassers, as I have not wanted to worry her.

... Why this is important is that in her last email, she talked about receiving strange calls and getting the feeling she's being followed.

Just like me and Shannon. Just like Shiloh.

She said she wanted to start carrying around a video camera to catch who she thinks is following her. It's a silly idea but she "wants to get a little fun out of having a stalker".

I honestly don't know what to think. If Jemma's right, this caller business may be more than I thought it was. This may be something the police would like to know. But when you think about it, it gets seriously fucked up. She lives in another country! Should we worry about Shannon's family too? I want to believe Jemma's just joking, I really do.

She said she'll tell me when she starts uploading the videos she makes. I'll make sure to let you guys know too.

A Very Interesting Conversation (Not)

Everyone listen to this. It's amazing.

Now, on to the issue of the callers, one of them called me a few hours ago. I decided to answer.

It was one of the guys. So, instead of hanging up after their usual cryptic message, I decided to keep them on the line.

"My eyes are open and what they see is you."

They've said something similar before, and I had asked, "Who are you?" of course, and they simply wouldn't answer and hung up. I decided to be a bit different this time. I said, "Do you like what you see?"

Their answer was no. So I asked why.

The guy took a long pause before telling me that I lacked certain qualities. I asked what those were and he didn't answer.

"Can you protect her?" was the last thing he said before hanging up. Did he fucking mean Shannon? That pissed me off.

The police aren't being very prompt with this. After today's conversation I decided I would hold off on getting a new number. These guys could probably find that one anyway... My doppelganger Sam got me thinking, what if the police screw it up? Doesn't seem likely, but who knows. If I can get the harassers to talk with me long enough, I might get an idea of who they are. I swear one of them sounds so damn familiar.

... I get the feeling I'm being watched, and I don't even know what is doing it. This is fucking stupid.

Also, Shiloh? Please contact me or Shannon right away.

Hmm, so Shannon posted on Shiloh's blog.

I did not want to mention we were having trouble here. The more you worry about something, the worse it can get.

As said, the calls aren't as simple as I've let on, they have gotten quite threatening. I am sure there is at least two distinct males and one female. We've seen no one suspicious around the area, so it's not THAT bad... But I'm getting less and less sleep. Like Shannon, I've been having nightmares. Just stupid shit about knives and glass. It's always a glass house.

Er, aside from that, it's not so bad. The stress has got me down, yeah, but that's only causing me to get a bit sick. Some headaches and nausea, nothing much beyond that. Our performance at work and school has taken a bit, but it's known we're having some tough times.

I just have to wonder why we've been targeted like this. Shannon and I have no real enemies or anything like that, and neither does Diane. None of us even knew Brandon before he met Shannon. It's all so weird.

I should try to entertain these harassers a bit, try and get some info out of them. There might be something I recognize. I don't want to try too hard though, the cops have their own idea in mind.

At the back of my mind, I can't help but wonder where Paul is. Is he even okay? 

I wish I knew.

Taser

I had a delightful time with Chase's Ustream. She really doesn't deserve the shit she's getting from... Whoever the fuck Michiru says she is.

Anyways, I realized I really like the idea of owning a taser, I must search for a way to get my hands on one!

I mean, I will admit, I'm still having a phone predicament. My cell has been bombarded with some random callers lately, and I have no idea what the hell is up with that.

And you know Brandon. He's being fucking odd. Leaving Shannon weird messages like... "Yo, babe, what's up with all the darkness? I can't see."

Shannon has no clue what that means, I have no clue what that means. He's left a few similar things since Saturday... I still don't think he was the one with the weird phone call a while ago, though.

What is with this? I think Brandon is turning out to be a real bitch. I knew it all along. He was probably the one behind... Umm, Halloween. Yeah.

Ugh, fuck it.

The Reckoning

A cabinet of ours fell over last night. Around 3:30.

We have no idea why. It must have just been one of those things that just... happen.

It woke us up, scared the shit out of us. It's a bit beaten up, the crash was enough to send a few glasses and a dish to the ground as well.

Fucking stupid, put things away properly, please.

We're gonna have to start bolting things to the walls, or some shit.

Ugh

It's so late, fuck.

Funny that I still can't get to bed at a nice time. I just lay there and lay there and lay and lay...

I have a sudden craving for pizza. Would I be able to order some at this hour?

We need to buy some frozen pizza in case I get a late night need for it. Like RIGHT NOW.

Shit, I'll check what else we have.

I'm gonna fatten myself up tonight, get myself ready for some nasty dreams.

. . .

Well whatever, I usually don't remember my dreams anyway.

Everything is Fine

I talked with Shannon last night. We've come to an understanding, and what happened Halloween night is not important.

Also, she will not be using her old account anymore, and neither will she be posting. She made a new one for commenting if she feels like it.

I've looked into getting a new number as well, so no more worries there.

Things will be just fine.

Last Night

Okay, I'm sure some of you are confused.

I refuse to speak with Shannon now. Last night was fucking terrible. I know I wasn't fucking dreaming, it was REAL and...

Well it was a prank. A joke. A trick.

I was feeling a bit off at the party so I went upstairs to wash my face. Someone was messing with the window upstairs, to fucking spook me or something. I think they were throwing rocks at it I don't know. Anyways, when I checked it no one was THERE so obviously they meant to bug me.

Actually, okay, I realize how paranoid that sounds. If some little shits WERE throwing rocks there is no way they could have known if anyone in particular was in there...

I came downstairs and I was hit with the biggest wave of nausea. I hadn't even been drinking, so I figured I was getting sick or some shit. I tried to find Shannon but of course she wasn't around. I did find Diane and I told her I was going outside for some fresh air.

So I went outside. I walked to the street, stood there for a moment and the fucking streetlamps started flickering.

I don't even know how they did it but it freaked me out. They went out for a moment and I just...

Actually, fuck this shit. It's nonsense.

"On Hallowe'en the thing
you must do
Is pretend that nothing
can frighten you
An' if somethin' scares you
and you want to run
Jus' let on like
it's Hallowe'en fun."

Apparently I'm in the way. What the hell did that mean?