Oct the Ninth (cont’d) – Untitled Bigfoot Project (126/224)

Oct the Ninth (cont’d)

I’m back. Uh… so the walk went great. Tori said the spot was really cute and we rolled around in the dirt for more than a few minutes. No fuckin’, because we both want our first time to be, like, really special, and also take place in one of our beds (probably mine because she’s mortified to take me home to meet her parents), but lots of grabbin’ and squeezin’ happened. But um… that’s not what this entry is about.

So… okay, I mentioned to you earlier that yesterday was kind of a crazy day. Well, my tires got slashed at the library by this really fucking weird guy in a cloak. There are… other… details about him that I’m not try’n’a get into, but he was definitely wearing a cloak. So I got Harry to drive me around town looking for him – y’know, try’n’a pull some woods kid shit, fuck the cloaked cunt up a little bit – and by the way, there’s a kickin’-ass hotdog place in town that I never knew about until yesterday and I’m definitely going to take Tori there one day if and when hotdogs come into my mind when I’m walking out of the library with her – but… oh right, so yeah, me and Harry drove all through Dantez Furnace and we didn’t see him and he kind’a convinced me to drop the woods kid shit because it would have been stupid, which it would have. If the guy was psycho enough to cut my tires then I probably would have gotten stabbed myself if I accosted him, but that’s beside the point and irrelevant. I didn’t get to accost him, because Harry hit the dude with his car.

At least, I think Harry hit the dude with his car. It certainly felt like we rolled over him – with the front AND the back wheels, because Bogspekti put the pedal to the metal out of panic, I guess, when the guy jumped in front of his car – after he jumped from the trees growing out of that bigass planter in the circle at the end of Sawblade Lane and landed himself directly in front of Harry’s front bumper. And front wheels. And back wheels.

I’m still a little shook about it, okay?

So Harry hits the guy and we skid to a stop and I dart out of the car – Harry’s in shock or something, he was barely moving – and I went to check out the body… and there was no body. It was just a black cloak, and I don’t even think it was the guy’s cloak either, because I’m about 11111111119% sure that the interior of the guy’s cloak was purple, not black, and the cloak I found was really dirty, too, when the cloaked cunt himself didn’t seem dirty. He seemed clean, calculated… fuckin’ scary, honestly. But that’s not the bad part.

No, the bad part is that I threw the cloak on the side of the road yesterday when Harry brought me back to the library, and neither of my parents took it, and I know for a fact that my neighbors didn’t take it because they’re ancient and they only bother to come out of their house when the cops are in the street so the old man can shake his cane and the old woman can pretend she’s not enjoying seeing her tax dollars being wasted away. But yet it wasn’t there.

But yet the fucking cloak wasn’t there where I left it. What the fuck? Where did it go? Did a fuckin’ bear or a bobcat or something take it? No, that didn’t happen, because animals want nothing to do with black cloaks. We felt the bumping of the body under the wheels, and I swear to Christ I heard cracks and pops like his skeleton was being pulverized, but there was no fucking body. There was only the fucking cloak. And now the cloak is gone.


It fucked with my head for the entire walk. I was hardly even hard when Tori was grabbin’ and squeezin’ me, like, she made a comment about it. She asked me if she should just put her shirt back on, Journal, and of course I said no, but like… I’m kind of freaked out. What if… what if it’s another Old Jack situation? What if the cloaked guy… I don’t even know. I can’t explain it, it doesn’t make any sense!! I’m lowkey afraid to leave my house because of this shit, I can’t stand it.

…                                     …                                    …

I took some deep breaths. Imagined a certain pair of twins in my head. Took more deep breaths. I feel marginally better. Ugh… I think I’m’a just take a nap. And then sleep through the entire weekend. It’s not like the fucker’s going to break into my house, right?


God damnit, you can’t answer me. Only I can answer that question, and I don’t know what the right answer is because I haven’t found out yet, and that’s a damn shitty answer to give myself! AH!

…                                     …                                    …

I’m’a take a nap.

Say thankya, Journal. ‘Preciate ya. Good sleeps and good dreams~

This has been the next journal entry from Untitled Bigfoot Project. Here is everything you need to know about it:

Untitled Bigfoot Project

I’ve written a few other books, too. Click here to see the list.

The Hillside Commons has a Facebook page. Here’s that.

If you’re there, hypothetical reader, thank you for being there. From this day on, we move forever forward~

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