It's Still After Me.

God, I really can't shake this fucking thing, can I? I don't know how It keeps finding me, but it always, always does. It knows where I am at all times, and It's after me for God only knows what reason.

I've been running for about a week now, Hell if I know where to. I'm somewhere Up North, that's the only place I could think of to run to. Back where I first saw It.

Yeah, Jeremy, that's smart. Go back to Its home turf. See where that gets you.

For the first time in my life, I actually hate the forest now. But where else can I go? It'll follow me regardless! I'm at my wit's fucking end and I can't take being chased like an animal anymore. I've been flying blind and and getting nowhere. Nowhere.

Of course I tried to get help. That's why I started talking about that thing here, on this blog, to prove It's real. To prove I'm not really losing it. I swear to God I'm not! I asked the police up here for help, but every time I call, they don't find squat and I look like a mental case. So I did some online research instead, shacked up in a hotel with some free Wi-fi. And what I found out…

This thing… I'm not the only one being stalked by It. I'm... I'm not alone. That's the only good news.

The bad news is that nobody knows any way to stop It.

The even worse news is that the more you know about It, the harder It tries to catch you. I know more about It now than ever before, and just as I've feared, It's gotten more… aggressive. More persistent.

And... shit, now you know about It, too, don't you?

Oh God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I have to tell someone. I have to prove I'm really being followed by this thing. Why are any of you even still reading this damn journal, anyway?

But you can't stop reading now. Please. I need to know I'm not alone out there. I need some support. Any support. Anything at all...

Dear God, please…