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Day one.

    '"A dark day comes. A dark day comes. A dark day comes."

    'The sheet of paper seemed to go on for hours, or miles, in length. It was as if a madman has scrawled it, albeit, there was none such a presence about immediate. In no avarice, the young boy stared down at the paper as he continued to write over and over the same sentence, on the sheet. He didn't know why he was doing this, but did he even need a reason to begin with? Nevertheless, there he was, left alone in his room on a quiet, sombre whim in the evening.

    'It seemed like the time passing was forever. He hadn't the faintest clue of what was around the corner. But, perhaps it didn't matter, either; nothing much came of his life. He was exceedingly average for a child of his age and of his era, nothing more and nothing less. A quiet onlooker of his community, unlike the rest, all forcing their presence. They are sirens. They are sirens in the night arresting a man, although it is unclear whether he is guilty or innocent of the crime. Maybe in that way he was different. Not so loud, most certain, was he! Without much else, his life was as well exceedingly average. Nothing was of especial importance about him nor his family in close relation.

    'As his droning self usually would tend to be, he continued writing until he found... he'd run out of room to do so. But he didn't bother to go and get another sheet. He realised quite suddenly his exhaustion, inexplicably sudden. With that, he went to bed.

    'But he didn't. He didn't.

    'He was stopped, standing there, there, there - dead in his tracks, standing without the slightest movement now and not even the twitch of a muscle in his body. Paralysed, other than his lips. He was in a very specific pose, looking directly out of a window. For a moment he stared, not aware of what was different outside of the window. He then saw It. It, a being standing outside; it stared directly into his soul, without visible eyes. In spite of this, it was possible he did, in fact, have eyes, but they were obscured by a darkness for some odd reason that he couldn't begin to understand, considering that it seemed to disobey light... Its entire face was shrouded in blackness despite the sun being directly in front of it. Its figure was abnormally tall, to add onto the surreal nature of It.

    'The boy stood there, staring on at It as It stared back at him, before in the next moment it completely vanished from all sight. To accompany, he now had a splitting headache, and his ears were now (metaphorically speaking) bleeding from the silence causing a very loud ringing, not dissimilar to white noise. Its timbre as if a silent scream had come to his ears. He collapsed there, dazed and confused, and fainted. The last thing he saw before he fell into total unconsciousness (although he would not remember it) was another figure, standing over him as he fell backwards. His last thought was something to the accord of how they had entered his room, or his house, but he couldn't follow it up with anything. He was already out cold.'

        Day two.

    'With that gone, he awoke, dehydrated blood clinging to his face after it having dried a while ago. He didn't know how long he had been out for. He didn't know anything new, actually. The last thing he remembered was the surrealist sight of the thing outside. How abnormal such a sight was! How abnormal, how abnormal Its almost extraterrestrial format of revealing Itself. After some time he swung open his eyes which burned like the very depths of Hell, which, of course, was not a comparison that came to his mind - he didn't think anything of it, of course, and it was normal enough. Awakening generally led to such an overexaggerated travesty as this. Why should he worry at all about it?

    'And he shouldn't have, frankly. The paranoia from the sight just before the rest, the "memory gap", was quite alien to him. He hadn't felt in alarm of such a magnitude before in his life. That that which he would otherwise find preposterous, at the very least, in his eyes, became the exact opposite. They were a reality more than a delusion, it felt like.

    'After a long period of hesitation, he went outside of his room, and as his usual self, pondered nothing.

    'Today was a school day, at least, it should've been. He'd slept through most of it, likely. The sight of yesterday had left him in quite a bit of shock. He didn't know what to expect next, or if what he saw was even real - regardless of what he had to say in any case, there wasn't much a reason to inform anyone. What if they believed him mad?

    'The day was, without any doubt, rather odd adjacent to yesterday's events. He wasn't without any doubt that it wouldn't be the last time he saw anything of It, and that no matter how minuscule the incident seemed at present, something was to come of it without any doubt, unless the sight was a hallucination. They would most certainly think him crazy should he bring it up in any capacity.

    'Despite the very fibres that were building up the slow rising crisis, in its importance and tension rising, at the very least, everything was oddly calm at current and it brought him to a strange impatience, the water which he drank from the river filled with such.

    'So he didn't do anything. He just sat down and took it, like enduring just about anything. As per usual, there as a complete and total absence of everything and anything that could give him more leads, and even as he arrived to school late... after his morning routine so polished... nothing out of the ordinary. He joked during distraction in class that the want to know more but never getting any is what would drive him mad, tho' spoken not aloud.

    'But then he was home again just as soon as he was cast away. This time, he was prepared - having something to do set in mind, a genuine goal, he set up an experiment listed as being on the day of October 23, 2005. At 19:42, It appeared again, and this time he was able to write it. Posed in such a way where he was balanced on his forearms, he fell downwards at Its appearance, thusly breaking eye contact with Its darkened face. He wrote down the time, now seeing that only making that direct look at the other was not enough to completely make him faint; although he did feel slightly disoriented. After writing in the time, he turned to see a familiar unfamiliar figure - the one which appeared to him yesterday other than the one outside. 'Twas the one from the inside. He tried to make out some physical features of the being, but was unable to, saddeningly, for It vanished as soon as he looked directly at It.

        Day three.

    'A dream, to begin.

    'He was the captain of a large vessel on the sea when it crashed, into seemingly nothing. There was land nearby. They swam there, in the freezing water, and there, there was a group of people, standing in a circle. He couldn't make out any of their faces. One looked vaguely similar to himself. His men were silent and seemed to slowly approach, before completely entering the circle. Then he entered it. He could see their faces, now. He was then stuck in it as he tried to remove himself, to no avail.

    'It was at this point he began to see things in the centre of the circle they had formed. The first was the tall figure. Then it was a log cabin. The images passed by like the photos one sees in a slideshow; but they continued beyond the small home. Next was the figure from inside his room. Then, audio - it was an odd song, one he didn't at all recognise. But then another song began to play as it continued. Before he knew it, there was a large cacophany, built of multiple different tracks played at once, some barely even resembling anything he knew of music. All the while, the sights stopped and he could see all of them again. They were all chanting something (which he could not hear due to the music), except for his men, who were now gone from sight. At this point he saw the figure from his room on the other side of the circle, facing him. The two on either side of him grabbed his arms. They spoke into his face, uncomfortably close, a short statement. "They reside in the forest."

    'As soon as they were done speaking this phrase, a monochrome image of a Glasgow smile appeared to him. Then an image of a woman in a padded room, also monochrome; then an image of himself, but older, in various places, the one standing out most to him where he sat in a forest next to a boy around his age whom he did not recognise. Then an image of the padded cell woman again, its colours inverted, all of the images in very rapid succession. He awoke with a gasp at 04:47.'

        Day four.

    'It happened all over again.'

        Day five.

    'And again.'

        Day six.

    'And again.'

        Day sixty one.

    '"I am an onlooker, simply. That is all I am," said the figure in the room with a confused smile which faded in, the darkness no longer obscuring her face.

    '"...B... but why have you... done this? How have you done this?" he asked, awaiting her reply as his eyes bulged from his skull, his fear visible.

    '"It wasn't me." She said with a calm voice. "It was that, out your window. ...I have no ruling in this. I am simply an onlooker, though I am with you, and against It. How I'm doing this, randomly appearing to you, you will know later." She reached out her hand, a gesture which he didn't understand. He was going to shake her hand when the tall figure appeared in the room, behind her.

    'She seemed to sense this as she immediately let out an ear piercing scream and ran behind him, not to use him as a meat shield or something to that effect, but to instead jump from his window. Then it was just the tall figure and himself, staring at one another, just like how it was back when it had only started sixty one days ago. Its face faded in to reveal its humanoid nature. Where Its eyes would normally be were instead sunken black holes. It had a nose without nostrils. And the mouth, formed into a permanent grin (although not like the Glasgow smile which he saw in the dream that recurred every night since). It was not unlike that of an old man's smile. There was, however, one thing - he was unable to discern whether the smirk was one of malice or if it was inviting. Considering the otherworldliness of the girl, he didn't quite know. He was about to run himself, when his hand extended itself uncontrollably. And Its met his.'

    'Their surroundings faded out to a mish-mash of static colours before he saw in the distance half of the group from the dream. Then his surroundings returned to normal.'

        Day sixty two.

    'He was simply preparing for bed when the tall figure appeared to him, but for only a split second as It said only "Thank you" without moving its mouth.

    'The girl did not show.'

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