Thursday, July 3 2008:
As I'm writing this, I'm driving through the West-Virginian woods, up on the mountains, along with the couple I mentioned yesterday. They were listening to the radio at first, but at a certain point they didn't receive much of the transmissions, so they played some music of their own, namely songs sung by this Lizzie. I'm more into Pinheads and the Seventh Man myself, but I suppose I should count myself lucky that they like Lizzie, rather than that Montana person, as so many people seem to. But while they were listening, they discussed a certain topic that the radio spoke of earlier, which had something to do with the presidential candidates. This is a topic I'd much rather avoid, as I...
Friday, July 4 2008:
After yesterday's events, I'm not sure how my writing would look once I'm finished with this, but I need to have some record of this, so here it goes.
I was writing in my journal, when suddenly we hit something. I didn't see anything myself, but the couple claimed to have seen a man running in front of the car, perhaps thinking he could stop it. And in a sense it did. The two got out of the car, checking out the man they hit. Being as shocked as they were, I too got out of the car. I couldn't be sure, but the man we hit had something strange about his lips. They were strangely shaped, almost like a rabbit's, which caused his teeth to show themselves, even if the man's mouth was shut. This saw-toothed man, as the guy started to call him, remained motionless, as we were without any idea as to what to do. But then something hit the guy in the back. It was an axe, which came from somewhere else in the woods, where I saw a man with three fingers on one of his hands, and almost just as deformed as the other man, who then got up and attacked the guy. With one swift move he snapped the guy's neck. Panicking, I hurried myself back in the car. When I tried to start it, another guy started shooting arrows at me. At the time, I was in such a panic, I dropped the keys, so I had to duck down to get them, only just dodging the arrows. I started the car and drove off, only narrowly escaping the saw-toothed man's grip. The man with arrows (of whom I couldn't get a good look but I'd swear he had only one eye) shot another arrow, blowing up one of the tires. Also, the three-fingered man tried the axe, but there was just about enough baggage in this car, belonging to the couple, to stop the axe from hitting me.
After that, I kept driving, not stopping once. Only when I got out of the woods, somebody pointed out that I had a flat tire, which I needed to fix. Only then I stopped, only to collapse completely at first. The shoot-out in Miami was nothing, as the ones shooting didn't mean to hit anyone else but the guy they were following. Back then, I could rely on my own cynism to get over what happened then. But with these three mountain men, if you'd have seen their faces yourself, their beedy eyes and that look on their faces, looking at us as if we were some bug that must be squashed... now I know how every bug I ever killed must feel, every time they only just managed to escape their own deaths.
Once I've calmed down, I changed the tire, found the axe that was thrown in the car and drove on. I found my way into Maryland, though that too wasn't without any trouble. When I made it to the border between West-Virginia and Maryland, they stopped me. Then I remembered that I'm not actually driving my own car. When they find that out, they'll wonder how I got to the car, of which they'll find out that the owners are missing, so they'll wonder what happened to them. I could tell them the truth, but then they'll wonder why I didn't alert the authorities. My own guess, I was too panicked, how was I supposed to think this all through? Even at that moment, I didn't know what else to do, but to drive through the borders anyway, not caring about what they would or would not do. I've been in custody once before, so they've already got a picture of me. All I can hope is that none of these men saw my face. In any event, if by any means at all, they can't find me by this car, so I ditched it somewhere, then went the rest of the way on my own. I have no idea of where I am, but I know I'm too far away for these mountain men to find me. With any luck, the authorities do not find me, but just in case I registered myself under an alias in a cheap motel. Hopefully, that will be enough to distract anyone looking for me.