The past two weeks

Have been hell.
Sorry for not posting. I figured I'd keep better track of this thing. I guess not.
That morning, on my last post, was actually ok. I saw him a few times on the walk, but nobody else did and he wasn't doing anything, really.
It wasn't until that afternoon/evening that things got weird. On the bus home, I started randomly taking pictures out my window. This is one of them:

You can't really see it unless you're looking. Hard.

He's there.

Later that night, there was a fire in my house. Nothing was too badly destroyed, save our dryer. They blamed it on a latex pillow that got thrown in there, but I think it might have had some help.

I didn't see much of him after that. More memory lapses and scars, though. And then Monday of last week was when it got really bad. I woke up with absolutely no memory of anything that had happened since the fire. My throat was sore, I had eight new scars, and I was depressed as hell.

I tried to kill myself. Twice.

He stopped me both times.

I haven't seen him since then, and things even feel somewhat normal. But I'm sure it won't last. I have another migraine now. I really hate these things.

School now

He's here.  At my fucking school.
Ijust fuckig saw him.  He was right fucking there.
I've never seen him there before.  Damn.  My head hurts now, like there's this huge weight on it.  I'm shaking.  It's cold.

People are surprisingly ignoring me, despite the fact that I'm typing away on my tablet like a madwoman.  My friend, Alyssa, is here with me.  She hasn't seen him, but I think she might.  I'm worried for her.

I did something stupid.  I got her involved.  She even went out into the fucking woods with me yesterday with my fucking camera to look for the damn thing.  We heard a few noises and ran for our fucking lives.

Nothing too weird has been happening to her, but...

Crap.  I think our teacher is going to make us go outside.

We're going now.  On the path through the woods.  Shit.

Well Shit.

I wasn't going to post again today, but something weird happened.  Just got out of the shower, but...

Ever since I was five or so, these random scars started showing up all over my body.  No memory of ever getting hurt, having a wound, or anything.  Just one night, nothing. Wake up in the morning, BOOM! scar.  This, I thought, had stopped.  I guess it hasn't.

In the shower, I found a long, thin scar on my stomach.  It looks years old, and like it was from a knife or razor.  I know this wasn't there yesterday.  And I know that I sure as hell was not out long enough today to be injured, and fully heal from  what looks like it must have been a pretty nasty cut.

And, well, I never introduced myself.  Contare to the name it has me under, I'm Ashley, not Arra.  I'm fifteen years old.  I live in East Texas, where I'm surrounded by fucking trees.  I was originally born in El Paso, but I was seven when we moved, and I really can't remember much of what it was like there.  I do remember that I was a hell of a lot happier there than I've been here.

I've seen Him

Twice now, over  the course of three weeks. I've been having memory loss as well.  Entire hours of my life, even a full day at one point, are missing from my life.  Whenever I come back to conciousness, though, I have a blinding migraine.  But I'm used to these, I've been getting them for nearly four years now.  No biggy.  Except the fact that this could have been going on for longer.  But I just saw him recently, and I can remember it.  Bits of it anyways.

I live in East Texas, which is pretty heavily forested.  Seeing as I also live in an apartment complex, I also have the joy of walking the dogs each morning and night.  Ten PM and six AM, to be specific.

But the first time I saw him, to my memory, he was in the trees.  It was in the morning, so I wasn't fully awake.  And seeing as this was the morning after I stayed up until two in the morning reading M's blog, I honestly didn't think much of it.  I have a habit of dreaming stuff and thinking it's real.  But I saw him, and my dogs (two of them.  A mutt named Sable and a yorkie named Chewbacca.  Don't judge me.  The damn yorkie is my dad's.) went ballistic.  They started whining and pulling me towards the house.  I've never seen them so scared.  But I ignored them and stepped right up to the fence, as close as I could get to where he was.  All I remember after that is falling to the ground, coughing.

I woke up in my room the next day with a migraine and no memory of the day before aside from that.  I went to school, apparently.  My parents didn't remember anything off about me.  But I have no fucking idea what happened.

I have a migraine right now.  I can't remember anything from this morning.