"Come on...son of a bitch how hard can this be-AGH", I let go of the knife and diary and clutched my bleeding thumb. In my attempt to cut around the hinges to break it open I accidently cut my thumb. It did'nt seem deep, but it was still bleeding a lot. I muttered some more curses as I went into my bathroom and put my thumb under cold, running water. It stung, but it would stop any infections.

As I stood at the sink, I thought about what happened last night. Why the hell was Masky holding me like that? And why the hell did he kiss me?...If, putting the lips of his mask on mine can even count as kissing. But honestly what the hell happened over the missing seven months? It had to have been something if it led to last night.

Damn it what am I thinking of? It had to have been my mind messing with me! I don't care what the camera says, it was'nt real! I tried to focus on the cool water on my bleeding thumb, but then something struck me. If these were hallucinations, why the hell were most of them of Masky?

What the hell happened those seven months?

I left the bathroom after putting a bandage on my thumb and went back to the diary and knife I dropped on the floor. Some of the blood had dripped off the knife and onto the diary and floor. I considered it lucky that the drips were tiny and that the carpet was dark. If the cleaners saw the blood she was'nt sure how I would explain it if questions were asked.

I began to think if there was perhaps a better way to open the diary. There had to have been. Maybe if I hit it with a rock or a...a lamp.

I quickly unplugged and grabbed the lamp from the nightstand, removed the lampshade so it would'nt hit me in the face by accident while I used it for my intentions to break the lock. I can't believe I had to resort to this for something that on it's own was pratically worthless.

I raised the lamp up in the air and brought it down hard so the base of the lamp hit the lock. I kept doing this for I don't know how many minutes, I just sort of lost track of time. Eventually however, my work paid off when I was rewarded with the sound of the lock breaking. I could have sworn for at least a split second, it sounded like music.

I nearly laughed out in joy. Finally, I would see what the hell was in this fucking diary!

I dropped the lamp on the ground and snatched the notebook from the floor and started on the first page.

Well, this was...well, had been my diary from ten years ago. It had my (then) shaky, handwritten signature on the top of the otherwise blank page, saying it was mine. I flipped foreword through the pages a couple months. It was the month of July I was interested in. I came to a page dated, '07/03/00'. It was the first page dated in July so might as well start there. My eyes skimmed the page. There was'nt anything to really point out any clues here. Although it did mention that me and Michael were going to the woods the next day. Just to hang out and maybe find some small animals.

Well, I had a solid reason as to why I went there now.

The next page was dated, '07/13/00'. That would have been about a week and a half. I know I had been missing for a week. I guess for those extra three days I was in hospital. Either that or I had just ignored the diary for those days.

But it was different. There was only one phrase being repeated over and over.

'All the children try to run'.

Those were the only words on thise page. They felt familiar for some reason. Wait, I remember. I woke up and for a song written in my notebook, and I think I've been hearing that song sometimes in my dreams!

I looked at the next page, which was dated the next day. There was a landscape doodle of a forest, a tacky and abandoned looking cabin, a half moon and...what I think were meant to be...dead animals on the ground. It was all done in black pencil. Except for the red, representing the blood. I felt a little disturbed that a ten year old me drew this. This is just...this is just...not right. There were some words written around the picture. There was'nt a space between some of the words, and one one or two other words were written over one another making it hard to make out. But I did read some of the words such as,

'RUN'. 'NOHIDE'. 'FIND'. 'DEATH'. 'HIDEANDSEEK'. 'NEVERWIN'.

The pages following that were more or less the same. Doodles, ramblings about stuff. As I went further on, I saw that some pages or parts of pages were missing, torn out by the looks of it. What disturbed me slightly was that some marks of tearing looked more like they were torn out with teeth. I had to assume that this had all been my doing, no matter how...unnatural it was.

The next day I had gone to the hospital. It was'nt too hard to find, although I did have to get a taxi there since it was further away. I think the drive was about an hour. Too long for my taste since the driver would occaisionally give me weird looks. I understand that I might having looked a bit odd with the toll everything was having on me, but he did'nt have to be so rude as to mutter that it was'nt a surprise I wanted to go to the hospital.

I can confidently say that he got no tip from me!

As I got to the hospital, I made sure the camera in my bag was on and that the lens was out as much as possible without being noticed. I did'nt want to be asked questions. Stepping into the entrance room of the hospital I could see that it was'nt really very today. There were some people sitting down, and one or two children with parents. The line in front of the front desk was'nt that long either so I joined the queue.

Although there were'nt that many people before me, I had to admit that there was a bit of a wait. I think about fifteen minutes altogether. Finally however, it was my turn to speak to the nurse at the desk. She seemed to be around her late twenties, or maybe early thirties and had short red hair tied back into a stubby ponytail.

"Hello, how can I help you", she asked polietely. Although she tried to put on a kind, caring tone, it seemed somewhat robotic. Well, I suppose it was to be expected when you said the same phrase over and over.

"Hi. Um, I know this might sound kinda weird to you. But I think I was a patient here several years ago, and I was wondering if I could talk with the doctor who treated me, and maybe have a look at a copy of my medical records?", I asked.

"Well, I can get get you access to your medical records. As to whether we can get you the doctor that treated you might be another case depending on circumstances", the nurse explained as she clicked on a few things on her computer.

"Right, okay", I simply nodded. This was actually easier then I thought it would be.

"Can I have your name and date of birth please?"

"Rebecca Kralie, the 29th of May, 1990", I quickly answered.

"Alright, and do you remember what year you were here?", the nurse asked, quickly typing what I was saying.

"The year 2000, around July I think".

"So, you would have been ten at the time?"

"Yes".

"Okay, and why do you need these files?"

"Um, well you see I think I got a concussion ten years ago, and I kinda need to check my files. I want to see how bad it was, before I decide if I should go to a doctor, because I've been a little light headed lately", I lied, spitting out the first lie I could think of that I could only hope that the nurse would buy.

"Well, we can book you an appointment here-"

"No! N-no thank you. I just want to look at my files and then speak to my original doctor", I said.

"Well, okay. If you could wait in one of those seats over there I'll be back to you shortly", the nurse said. I did'nt bother to see what she was going to do and just sat in chair on my own.

It felt like ages waiting there untill the nurse called me up again.

"Well, here's a copy of your medical records", she handed the papers over to me. "You can read them here but you can't leave with them".

"Okay, but can I take notes down from them at least?", I asked.

"If you think their important you can", the nurse answered. "Also, the doctor listed on the form does'nt work here any more. He retired two years ago, but he did'nt move away. If you really want to talk to him, I can give you his address and phone number".

"Thank you. I'll get those I bring these back up", I said with a brief smile of thanks and went back to my seat and took out my notebook and pen and began reading, prepaired to take notes.

The first page was just basic information that they would ask every patient so I ignored it, for now at least. As I finally found what I was looking for, I realised that whatever had happened to me during that week I was missing, it must have had a terrible affect on me.

The first time I was here after being found I aparently woke up from the sedatives given to me in the car and had to be given more when I started screaming again. Whenever someone came near me I would slap or hit them away, and I kept mumbling about trees. They had checked if I had been sexually abused but I was'nt, thank God. Apart from sthat though, I was physically alright. Though mentally, it had been suggested that I be reffered to a psychologist if I got any worse.

I also made multiple trips back to the hospital because of terrible coughing, vomiting, noes bleeds and occaisionally passing out randomly. At one point I had aparently tried to scratch something into my arms with my fingers nails and although they were'nt listed there were mental problems.

My last trip was around the end of July. It said that I had been hiding up in a tree in the back garden with a camera to take a picture of something, and accidently fell out onto the ground, knocking myself out. When I woke up, I had amnesia and did'nt remember the enitire month of July.

I furrowed my eyebrows. I can kinda understand why mom and dad would'nt have wanted me to know this, but it feels weird reading what had happened. Well I did hit my head on the ground, at least they told the truth there.

I looked up at the name of the doctor, Dr. Bart Alexiel. The name rang a bell a little. I read a little more and saw a note saying I had been brought to a pyschologist named Dr. Eliza Wormbrine. Funny, Aunt Edna did'nt mention her. I guess mom and dad did'nt tell her, or she just did'nt mention it. It does'nt matter now. I wondered if I could get her number too.

I took down everything I saw as important and went back up to the front desk and handed back the records, and took the address and number of Dr. Alexiel and waited a extra minutes for Dr. Wormbrine's. It was great I got not one but two leads today. Everything seemed to be going easy.

Almost too easy...

Date: 12/08/10

Time: 23:17

I've manged to get more information about what happened to me in July, 2000.

I was suffering symptoms similar to those me and Jay have expeirenced, but I also had mental problems, thought they are not mentioned in much detail. But I do know that there was a p pyschologist and I plan to speak to her, as well as the doctor who treated me.

I think I can understand why I was lied to, but I need to know. It might be of use to me and Jay's predicament.

I've called the doctor and he's agreed to meet me at a diner in the town I'm staying in.

...I still feel like I'm being watched...

Maybe I'm just over reacting. The Masky incident had to have been a hallucination.

At least I hope so.

Rebecca Kralie.