Day 4- April 25, 2005
Jason groggily woke up on the bathroom floor just past midnight and, holding onto the vanity, pushed himself up to check his head.
There was a bruise on his temple (the result of the fall) and a burn on his right arm, shaped like a child's hand with long, spindly fingers.
He let out a tired sigh and shuffled to his bedroom and into his warm bed.
The temperature began to drop as she entered the room, walking toward the sleeping Jason.
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Something was squirming all over his body. Jason didn't want to look. It crawled all over his hands, his chest, all over. He pulled the blanket over…
Maggots, some quasi-flies already, crawled all over his body. Squirming, slithering…
He rolled out of bed, screaming hysterically. In his fit, he looked at the bedroom wall, covered in scratch marks, some of them bloody.
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The phone rang. Jason ran for it, desperate for contact with another human being.
He raised the handle to his ear.
"Hello?"
"It's Erin."
"Erin, don't hang up. Remember that tape thing? I need you to watch it—"
"It's about that. I've seen your movies and I've decided I'm not gonna see this one."
Jason froze. His heart slowed to the point of death.
"Why are you deciding this now?"
"You always have these cheap jokes. I'm tired of being the butt of them."
"Erin…please…DON'T HANG UP."
A click came through the phone.
Erin had hung up.
---
Jason, frustrated, took a walk again, having to fuss with the sticking locks, again.
The sun was completely blotted out by the bleak clouds above. No birds sang. The dogs were in their houses. The air itself seemed dead in the April air.
Jason was the only one on the street. There were no cars. No children played in the park he passed by.
He felt a breath on his neck. It was cold and unforgiving.
He turned to see her.
Jason thought it couldn't be happening. As she started to shamble forward, he broke into a run.
She followed, coming faster.
He was sprinting now, turning into the street up ahead.
"No. Please." He whispered to himself, pleadingly.
He looked back and she wasn't there. He stopped, gasping for breath.
He turned back again and saw her. She grabbed onto his head and he felt like his brain had exploded. The mind cancer, he had called it, had come back again. He let out a scream, and he blacked out.
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Now it was 9:30 PM. Jason was on his front doorstep. On his door, in spindly childlike writing, was:
Don't stop me. I'm already here.
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