What happened.

Where to begin?

A lot has happened over the last few days. I'm sorry I made you all worry- I didn't mean to, I just didn't have time to respond or get on. I guess I'll start from the restaurant since I wasn't making that much sense (but I'll summarize it only briefly).

I went to the restaurant to check it out and see if there was anything obvious- I even bribed the teenagers working to let me have at least ten minutes in the back without them bothering me. It's amazing how far a few dollars can take you. When I stepped into the employee area, Elijah caught me off guard. He must have been waiting...somehow- I don't know. It doesn't make sense to me either, but he was there and he was spouting all of this gibberish about how he had failed the first time and so he was to make sure I received the next clue. He had sewn the mailbox number under his skin. Oh God, I know he's a nurse and could figure out the least painful way to do this, but it still had to hurt so bad! And then he told me that I had to kill him and open him up. Well, I was a tiny bit smarter this time around and had put a broken brick into my purse. I swung it at him mid sentence and caught him in the head. It knocked him out and after I dragged him outside to the dumpster I rummaged around in his pockets for something sharp.

At the time...at the time I could only think that I was doing this for Cynthia, that it was okay that I was about to cut an innocent man open because it was all for my daughter. Anything for her, right? He had a knife on his person and I had to cut through the stitches as carefully as I could, peel back the skin and reach inside him to fish the piece out. I was expecting something to break open at any second- I don't know how I managed it, but it was probably because it wasn't wormed in between anything. It was more on the surface. There was blood everywhere...you can't do something like that without getting messy. And I was so afraid that he was going to bleed out- I didn't want to kill him. So I took his shirt off and tied it around the wound as best as I could and tried to get him into a position where it would slow the blood. Afterwords I ran back to my car and typed up that message. I was a wreck, and I probably shouldn't have taken off right after because I nearly crashed the car a few times.

I drove to the man's house. It was located in the middle of the woods. It was an incredibly stupid idea that nearly got me killed.

Initially I went into the house. More graffiti had been added over the years, but I could still pick out the words my friends and I had written on the walls. At this point I honestly wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, or if someone was going to show up. That was when I heard her calling for me from out in the woods. My baby...she was alive. I ended up trying to follow her voice and wandered around lost in the forest for who knows how long. Eventually she stopped calling for me and I kept trekking forwards. I came upon a picture in one of the many mud puddles of my husband and I's wedding day. We looked so happy...

When I leaned down to pick it up, this scarred man (I didn't get a good enough look when I was running away, but he had this brutal wound around one of his eyes) came up behind me and tried to hold my face under the muddy water. I panicked and managed to elbow him enough to break free and sprint in a random direction. Unfortunately I wasn't even wearing the proper clothing- I had dressed for the restaurant not a hike, and so I was running around in a skirt and flats. The scarred man chased me, made me even more scared than I already was, but eventually he vanished just like her voice. And I realized that no matter how long I ran towards the tree line, I never got any closer to getting out of the woods. This thing essentially had me running in circles, and I wore myself out.

I don't know how long it took me to finally stop stumbling around blindly, but when I did I curled up into a ball and huddled under a large tree. I was so so scared, lost, sore, hungry, and lonely. I think I started crying at some point, and I had, for some reason, not dropped the picture during all of this. Instead I clutched it close and refused to let go. I sat there as the sun went down and darkness settled. It was really then that I realized how stupid I had been running into this head first without proper guidance or planning. I was trapped in the woods alone, and he wasn't letting me leave.

That was when Cynthia stepped out from behind a tree. My heart...it lurched when I saw her, and I was flooded with relief, joy at seeing my daughter after so long, and even though I hate to say it, a smidgen of fear at what might happen. I was right to be hesitant. She...she told me to look at my watch. The hands had somehow jammed, and they were stuck at 11:11. Then she told me to make a wish. And she had this smile on her face, like it was the greatest thing in the world and then I realized she didn't step out from behind a tree. It was him. He was just standing there and, I assume now, watching me with that blank face...his goddamn face...that's the worst part. There's nothing there. It's just smooth and that's why it's so terrifying. You don't know what it's thinking, and if it feels, what it's feeling. It's like the feeling of dread you get whenever you're about to get results back and you aren't sure if they'll be good or bad. The coin could land on either side and you'll never know until he makes his move.

I actually started screaming for help at this point. My throat was raw from crying and breathing so harshly, but I just...screamed and screamed for someone, anyone to find me and help me because, God, I didn't want to die. Cynthia just kept smiling and she took a step back towards him, gesturing for me to follow her. I think she said something along the lines of, “Now we're a happy family.” And...I actually stood up and started to follow her. At this point I thought there was no way out of this, that it was over and I might as well end things. I know you all will probably be upset about this, but it's all I could think at the time.

And then all I hear is, “Get away from my goddamn wife!”.

God.

Just...God.

That...insufferable jackass he just...out of no where...he football tackled me-knocked my head into a tree or something I wager because everything went black at this point.

Ha. Haha. I mean, really? Of all things that could have happened, of all the people who could've saved me it was him. My husband. Anthony Delmont.

Let me just finish before I begin to rant- I woke up in a motel room. It was mine, so I'm guessing he looked through my pockets and found my key. He also managed to find the car keys as well, because it's still with me and in one piece. When I saw him...well, to be frank, I thought he was a proxie and tried to beat him over the head with the motel lamp. But as soon as he started talking...it was him. My Anthony. He sounded as grumpy as ever, haha...

And get this, he didn't cheat on me. Oh yes, we had a nice long chat about what happened to him during those ten/eleven years. No, there was no woman he ran off with (though he did look vaguely uncomfortable when I asked him if he'd been with anyone during the time he was gone, I can only guess what that means) but it was because of Slenderman that he left. Apparently he saw him during the year we were married and after I had Cynthia he was afraid that we'd be pulled into his mess too and split. Hah. That did so much.

He more or less kept me hostage to the room, and honestly I didn't want to go outside for a while. I was scared I would see him now that I had had my first encounter with him face to no-face. But that man...he just annoys me so much! I couldn't take it! I don't know how you people put up with him! Yes, you heard me right, apparently he has his own blog and he's friends, or acquaintances or, hell, even arch enemies for all I care with some of you. Said he'd been keeping track of me through Ava and yet he couldn't say a goddamn word to me to tell me he was okay.

Tony. That's what he goes by, I believe. I don't know if you all recognize this, and honestly I don't care. My ex-husband is a jerk, and that's all I need to know.

I...um, I actually did knock him out. He kept saying I couldn't run off on my own because it was too dangerous, and while I agree, I'm not about to suddenly let him back into my life, just like that. So the brick came in handy again and I left him on the bed (which he doesn't deserve) and took off.

Tony, if you're reading this, honey, leave me alone. I don't want you in my life again. I don't care if you ran because it was good for me. I was better off without you and I'm going to keep it that way.

So, yes. That's what happened. I'm sore, I'm furious, and I'm still looking for Cynthia. I lost my chance and now I have to start again. I will find her, but next time I won't be caught off guard. Next time I will bring her back, I promise.

Take care of yourselves.

-Cathy