Tuesday, May 1, 2012


goodbye you guys. we're leaving and we're not coming back. all four of us. it's not safe to stay here anymore. besides, it's not like there's anything left.

mommy is...happy in heaven. she's happy and she can't hurt anymore.

and i have a little brother now and i'll take care of him when daddy can't. we're gonna be okay, everything is gonna be alright.

it's all gonna be alright.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Hey. It's Cynthia. My body is still a little sore but otherwise, I'm fine. There's not much to say. Simon is still healing and Dad has been taking better care of us.

I'm tired. How are you guys?

Monday, April 2, 2012

It's hard to type. My hands a sore even though that...thing didn't even do anything to them. I've been released from the hospital along with Cynthia and we're back at the house with Tony. Cynthia, while a strong young girl, is obviously alarmed by everything that happened. She's terrified that the monster who plagued her is going to come back any moment and she swears that she sees it everywhere now. I'm unsure what this means but I'm guessing it's not good.

I take back what I said before. My entire body is sore. Tony didn't want me typing but I figured I owed everyone an explanation. The Caretaker...he's just a normal looking man. He's around Tony's height and dark haired and eyed. He had a beard and honestly was very hairy all around. I'm guessing he's somewhere around the age of fifty or so. Maybe a little younger. Just in case any of you see him...which I highly doubt of course, but  I guess I can try and warn you all.

I had just got home from work and I was exhausted. I don't really remember what I was doing, I just know that the Caretaker suddenly stepped out from behind the corner and smashed me over the head with a frying pan. When I woke up my head was pounding and I was tied to one of the kitchen chairs. Everything was fuzzy and it was hard to focus-apparently I took quite a bruising on my skull-but I do remember the Caretaker not wasting any time with suddenly sticking me with a sewing needle. He asked me if I remembered mother and if I wanted to know if she missed me and then I just...froze up.

My mother...my mother is insane. When I was young my father left my family leaving my little sister and I to deal with mother. Something inside her snapped that day, I think. She started with verbal abuse, neglecting my sister and I and only communicating to insult us and tell us how much she loathed to see us. I could handle it, I kept telling myself that she was just sad and she couldn't help it. That's when she began to physically abuse me. I wouldn't let her touch my sister, she was the closest thing I had. Her abuse was unique. She would stick me with her sewing needles or other pointed objects and tell me that I deserved it. I would go to school in long sleeve shirts and pants even when it was ninety degrees outside and always told the other kids I wasn't bothered at all. In truth I drifted away from those children until they found me as a "geek" or "nerd" and decided to bully me as well. For a year I hated going to school and coming home. I would take my sister out into the woods and we would pretend we were in a new house, a better one with the father who left us because surely he was better than that woman.

One afternoon I came home alone. My sister had stayed home due to catching the flu. I didn't want to leave her alone with mother but she threatened me until I went to school. I called for the both of them but no one answered. When I finally found them...she had drowned her in the bathtub. She took my little sister, my world, and drowned her and then walked into another room to sew like nothing had happened.

When the police came and took her away, I can't remember much. In fact that period of my life is fuzzy at best. I do recall the court case. She pleaded insanity and was sent to a mental institute to spend her days. She didn't have to pay for taking the life of the only person I cared about. She got to spend everyday knowing that she murdered my sister and fucking got away with it. I decided then that I was going to become a police officer to make sure people like her couldn't get away without the proper punishment.

When I heard of the Delmont case, I related to it immediately. A father who left a wife and his child alone. The child goes missing and the mother isn't arrested. I looked for her as hard as I could. I was determined to make sure that what happened to me wouldn't happen to Cynthia. I thought-I don't know, I thought that I could fix everything. I couldn't of course. We've all seen that. I'm a joke to everyone, including the police force.

So there you go, that's why I acted so rashly and was so focused on finding Cathy Delmont. I'm taking some time off of the job. Or, my boss told me to. Tony is going to make sure I heal properly, I guess, and take care of Cynthia as well. I think what happened was a wake up call to him. He poured all the alcohol down the drain this morning and told me to not buy anymore.


Friday, March 30, 2012

It's Tony.

Cynthia's therapist was a fuckin' minion. She attacked her near the end of her most recent session and the girl--being the brave little spitfuck she is-- fought back and ran. According to Simon, who basically saw the entire fight outside of the building, Cynthia was running as fast as she could out of the place with that woman hot on her heels. Cynthia headed straight into the middle of the road and got hit by an oncoming car. Of course the car tried to stop when the driver saw her so she didn't get hit by a steel death machine at seventy miles per hour or something. It knocked her off of her feet and she smacked her head pretty good--got knocked out and bruised up pretty bad.

Simon pulled over and ran over to her, and then called 911. Fucking moron completely forgot he is 911 in his panic but managed to get an ambulance over there pretty fast. The minion ran away before Simon could ask her what the hell happened. As soon as he called me I fucking got to the hospital on heel and I've been staying with Cynthia as long as I can everyday. She woke up and told me what happened pretty soon after everything cooled down and I'm pissed that I didn't know about the minion being a minion. I swear I'm gonna murder that bitch if I ever catch her again.

The reason I'm writing instead of Simon is because the poor little fucker got attacked yesterday. I was at the hospital when that Caretaker guy or whatever he calls himself broke into the house. I think Simon was taking a nap or something cause' next thing he knows is that that psycho is attacking him and tying him to a kitchen chair. What happened next...well...Simon got stuck like a pincushion. Knives, needles, anything sharp were being used from what I was told. The Caretaker ran away as soon as I got home, just in time for me to catch him cutting through the backyard and leaving Simon dazed and bloody in the kitchen.

So now I got my daughter and my..."caretaker", I guess, in the hospital. This is bullshit--what the hell did Simon ever do to provoke that bastard?!

What's worse is that the method he used to torture Simon apparently has been used before on the little guy. Many, many times, in fact, when he was younger. I didn't know but...I'll let Simon explain everything if he wants to. Let's just say I get why he was so obsessed with our family and finding Cathy.

Fuck. I need a drink but I know a drink won't help these two. Guess this means I'm the only one left not hurt which is ironic since usually it's the other way around.

Monday, March 26, 2012

I'm sorry I haven't updated in a few weeks. Things have gotten much, much more tense around the house. I'll explain in greater detail later but Cynthia is currently in the hospital--she's going to be alright, just shook up more than anything--and Tony is going to be staying with her as much as he can. I'll be here at the house to take care of it so...

I think something bad is about to happen.


Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Everyday I go to work, make sure Cynthia gets to her therapist appointment, make sure Tony is fed and not too drunk to cause a scene, and then get back late enough to fix a small meal for myself and maybe watch whatever is on the television. If you had told me this time last year that I would be taking care of a drunkard, sociopathic father and his not-technically-related-but-equally-crazy-daughter while looking for their psychotic, one armed,  pregnant mother, I would have called you all idiots and then tried to see if I could arrest you. But things have changed and I don't know how they've managed to get so screwed up.

I'm having these nightmares. It's me but it's myself and my younger self. And younger me looks so scared like something is coming to get him. I know it's not that monster-- I just know it's not!! It's something worse. It's the woman I was scared of for so many years of my life. But she's teamed up with the monster and I can't escape, I can only watch. This nightmare keeps replaying over and over every night. I hardly get any sleep anymore! I don't know how I haven't passed out yet. I figure it's the coffee that keeps me going.

I'm starting to see things too. Little flashes in the corners of my eyes, like something is there but vanishes when I look. Is this normal for a victim?? Am I going to go crazy? What do I do to stop this??? Tony and Cynthia seem to be holding up fine but I'm getting worse and worse and I don't know what to do...


Tuesday, March 6, 2012

I don't know how Tony can stay so calm when weird things are happening but I guess I can blame it on all the alcohol he intakes. For the last several weeks it has been hell. I don't know why Tony isn't talking to you all about it since you're the ones who know what he's going through. It's not like he talks to me or Cynthia at all.

The photographs haven't stopped. In fact, they've gotten worse. Well, at least for me. I haven't really said why I'm so agitated to Cynthia or Tony and I know they'll read this later and want to talk then, but for now I guess I'll tell faceless teenagers on the internet why I'm so paranoid. The pictures aren't sent to my house anymore. Instead I find them at the police station. And they're not pictures of Cynthia or Tony, though the two do appear in the backgrounds at times. They're pictures of me.

Tony told me about this Caretaker man who apparently doesn't like me and it makes me very uneasy to know that someone out there, some "minion" as Tony calls them, seems to have targeted me. I've never really had to handle something like this before so I don't know what these people are capable of!! I've been burning the pictures but they keep showing up, one after another. Is this all they do? Do they just leave photographs for their victims to get scared of??

I'm at a loss. I don't know how I'm supposed to protect myself and I can't exactly complain about it to Cynthia and Tony. Tony has his crazy-now-homicidal wife to watch out for and Cynthia keeps seeing that thing everywhere. She sleeps with me or Tony now even though she's been trying to avoid mentioning it or being affected by it.

In short I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm going to have to handle this problem alone but what does that mean is going to happen? Can anyone help me?

-Simon Radler