I'm Not Like The Others

When I say that, I mean...I guess I mean this is real. This isn't some stupid ARG . This isn't Marble Hornets or The Twelve Tribes or whatever. This isn't some exercise show gone bad. There is no script. There is no planned plot line. This isn't just to get attention or whatever. This is for my benefit only. Read along, if you want, but don't blame me when IT comes after you.  I don't have all the answers, like that M guy. All I know is how to run. All I have is my memories and my sanity, and I doubt I'll have those for long.

Which is why I'm writing in this blog. To store my memories and to keep my sanity.

My name is Writtor...or, at least, that's what you'll know me as. I used to be the ultimate fan girl. Books have always been more reliable than people. I used to be shy. I used to laugh at the popular kids. I used to be blonde. I used to have a brother and a family who I loved more than anything.

I used to write. I used to write beautiful stories. I used to write fantasies, horrors, romances, comedies, histories. 

Then IT came.

I abandoned my precious books when I left. I learned to fight, to survive. I dyed my hair black. I killed my family. I didn't even take my notebook.

I haven't written a story years.

I'm starting to lose it. I think writing is the only way to tie me down.

I'm going to write my story here. From beginning to end.

I'm not a survivor. I'm a runner. I haven't won. Yet.

~Writtor