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more to come, her typewriter is my laptop, hope she is okay
it's been only been two days since i arrived and the first thing i have noticed is that cars will not stop driving past my window. i have seen at least three ‘50 crosley statIon wagons drive by. another thing to note is that no one i have seen here drives a car older than a ‘67 mArlin and i will not tell a lie i aM nervous to ask for help with my own vehicle. the receptionist at the motel i am staying in suggested that i should keep my Blinds closed because, as she put it, the locals “don’t take kindly whEn strangers from the cIties visit†and while i brushed it off at first as witting tourism quip, but coNcern for my own safety has Grown. i hardly knoW what i am looking for here and yet every resident has Acted as if i have personally gone peering inTo each and every one’s own Closet of skeletons. SometHing strange did happEn today that i want to write down: i went into the local pharmacy (i believe the only store in this town that sells tampons, also something to note just in case) and the young girl at the counter, who looked possibly to be fifteen or sixteen, would not break eye contact with me. she stood, counting the paper money in her hanDs but never removed her violet gaze from me as i moved about the store. i found thIs peculiar and again today when i went to ask if anyone in town could fix my car radio the girl agAin did not break. she peered at me with both curiosity and malice that made my skin go cold. i spoke to another person at the store this tiMe, maybe her father or her brother i truthfully could NOT tell, and he told me to check back again tomorrow after he hAd asked eugene. The gentlemen did not cLarify whO eugene was. I must stop there, for there is is someoNe knocking at the hotEl room door rigHt at this moment but beforE i answeR, i want it notEd that it is 10:43pm, the nineteenth of september, i am staying in room 107, my name is greta walsh.
i opened the door and it was the girl from before behind the store counter. there was blood on her hands.
more to come, her typewriter is my laptop, hope she is okay
it's been only been two days since i arrived and the first thing i have noticed is that cars will not stop driving past my window. i have seen at least three ‘50 crosley statIon wagons drive by. another thing to note is that no one i have seen here drives a car older than a ‘67 mArlin and i will not tell a lie i aM nervous to ask for help with my own vehicle. the receptionist at the motel i am staying in suggested that i should keep my Blinds closed because, as she put it, the locals “don’t take kindly whEn strangers from the cIties visit†and while i brushed it off at first as witting tourism quip, but coNcern for my own safety has Grown. i hardly knoW what i am looking for here and yet every resident has Acted as if i have personally gone peering inTo each and every one’s own Closet of skeletons. SometHing strange did happEn today that i want to write down: i went into the local pharmacy (i believe the only store in this town that sells tampons, also something to note just in case) and the young girl at the counter, who looked possibly to be fifteen or sixteen, would not break eye contact with me. she stood, counting the paper money in her hanDs but never removed her violet gaze from me as i moved about the store. i found thIs peculiar and again today when i went to ask if anyone in town could fix my car radio the girl agAin did not break. she peered at me with both curiosity and malice that made my skin go cold. i spoke to another person at the store this tiMe, maybe her father or her brother i truthfully could NOT tell, and he told me to check back again tomorrow after he hAd asked eugene. The gentlemen did not cLarify whO eugene was. I must stop there, for there is is someoNe knocking at the hotEl room door rigHt at this moment but beforE i answeR, i want it notEd that it is 10:43pm, the nineteenth of september, i am staying in room 107, my name is greta walsh.
i opened the door and it was the girl from before behind the store counter. there was blood on her hands.
[align=center][div style="width: auto; font-size: 9pt; font-family: arial; color: black; letter-spacing: 1px;"][i]etherial, almost ghostly ― [color=black]info