September 12th, 2002:

I am so bored, I found this book that seems to be some kind of diary at a camp I’m staying at, Blues Canoes. The dates from here all start with September 12th, but have gone back since 1996 when it was first written in by a girl named Susantha. I guess new people keep finding this lost journal.

My trip started off pretty normal, I went with my school to canoe and camp for a week. It was our first day here and it’s almost time for lunch but the shoppers weren’t back yet so I head to my tent to grab some cards. When I got there my tent was a mess, everything was stolen including my entire suitcase and sleeping bag. So I get up and checked everyone else’s tent, but it was only my stuff that was stolen. I left the tents to go back to where we were supposed to be eating. No one else is here, I am all alone, sitting alone writing in my new journal that I found on the ground. This my first night here and so far it’s been horrible.

September 13th, 2002:

I woke up still alone, everyone still gone, last night I heard rummages through the camp park. I wanted to run away but can’t. The bus to pick up our school won’t come back for another two days. I was at the mess hall and it’s dinner time. My group was supposed to make buttermilk pancakes to eat tonight when I looked up to see classmates screaming and running, they were going crazy. I was just thankful they were back, that is until I saw a man carrying a canoe over his head chasing them. This man was tall but had no face, it was like something out of a horror movie. He had what looked like stilts as legs, blood red hair and his skin had specks of red dots all over it. I can only assume those spots were dried blood of his victims. He walked over to me but it’s like I was invisible, I couldn’t be seen. I guess that is a good thing since I won’t get whacked, oh, did I not mention he was using his portage skills to whack my classmates with his canoe, and as he did a great brouhaha erupted.

September 14th, 2002:

The bus comes tomorrow and only one teacher and six classmates are still alive, not including me. It’s like they don’t even know I exist. The tall man is gone, I have decided to call him Canoe Joe. Even though he is gone for now I assume he will be back later tonight. My teacher and classmates have gone to their tents to pack, apparently they are trying to catch a bus tonight.

It is now 8:30pm and the sky has darkened, and it is a dark, deep, full, red color. Soon enough Canoe Joe is here. The rest of my classmates are hiding under the picnic table I was sitting at, yet they still can’t see me. Canoe Joe looks up like he is sniffing the air, then the most shocking thing happens, he did this weird lumberjack run while holding his weapon of choice, a canoe above his head. He charges over to where I was sitting and slams his canoe down onto the table. I was not hurt, not even a scratch or ounce of pain did I feel on my body when the canoe was slammed. I looked down to the ground and I saw blood. At first I think it is coming from me, but then I see my smooshed classmates get lifted up into Canoe Joe’s non existent face and t disappear. I hear my other classmates scream in horror and run, but yet no one seems to see I was there.

September 15th, 2002:

The bus hasn’t come yet but now there are only three classmates left. They sit there making plans on how to escape. I already know their plan won’t work, Canoe Joe will make sure they never escape. Soon enough night comes and they are alone, until Canoe Joe walks up from the water carrying his bloody canoe over his head. This time my remaining classmates gather in a circle and surround him. Canoe Joe tilts his head sideways then all the way up so his head touches his back and his neck is direct to the moon. He makes out a cackle sort of sound and whacks all three of them with one blow. Then he proceeds to soak up their blood from the ground to the outline of his face, he takes the body tearing apart each limb before shoving it inside him. Everyone is dead, but me and of course Canoe Joe. I am lost in my own thoughts when a light shines in my face, the bus driver is here! I cheer in relief, but when I try and get on the bus a force so strong pulls me back. I realize the journal needs to stay on camp grounds. I’m on the bus about to throw the journal out so we can leave. Suddenly I am not invisible and out of nowhere Canoe Joe comes charging towards the bus. He chucks the canoe at the bus, the driver dies immediately. I write as I slowly die, my last line: to whoever is next, hope you have better luck than me.

Sincerely,

    Megatha

September 12th, 2010:

Dear Diary,

I found this journal at a place called Blue’s Canoes. It was just lying on the ground waiting to be picked up and written in, well I guess it had already been written in. The most recent date is from some dead girl, Megatha, who went to my school in 2002. Something about Canoe Joe being a murderer, but I am sure that is not true. Normally I don’t write in diaries or anything, netflix is more of my forte.

September 13th, 2010:

Dear Diary,

When I woke up this morning everyone was gone, I checked all camp and didn’t see anyone. Wait, I think that’s them in the pavilion. I am getting closer when I see my classmates screaming and running away from this tall man holding a canoe over his head. I run away when I see my classmate get whacked and then smashed by the canoe. I stop when I realize no one can see me. I can only assume this is Canoe Joe, and he is real. I scream when he looks directly at me, but then he leaves the pavilion and slowly walks down to the water where he stores his canoe.

September 14th, 2010:

Dear Diary,

Yesterday’s events still shock me so I go down to the pavilion to see if I was just kidding myself. I almost believe it was a dream, but then I see Canoe Joe piling all the dead bodies onto his canoe and then carrying them back down to the water. I follow him thinking he won’t be able to see me. Just incase I hide behind a tree and watch him feast on my friends, tearing them limb by limb apart. I run away screaming when I see a decapitated head, Canoe Joe’s head perks up and my immunity is gone, he grabs his canoe and chases me. I run back up to the tents and hide in a random one, thinking I am safe I let my guard down…

September 15th, 2010:

Dear Diary,

Canoe Joe hasn’t found me yet but I am in the only tent that hasn’t been smashed yet or whacked with his canoe. He stops in front of mine and I write my last words: Watch out for Canoe Joe, no one will ever make it out of this place alive, so I leave you with this journal that will reappear eventually, and when it does everyone will die just like me, Susantha and Megatha.

Sincerely,

     Nikkita

Legend has it that every eight years the diary reappears, that means 2018. Whoever finds the diary has immunity and won’t be killed by Canoe Joe. Remember even with immunity, everyone still dies at the end. Good luck you’ll need it.

Sincerely,

    Susantha, Megatha, Nikkita