Monday, April 30, 2018

tendrils

december 15 2006
December 15 2006
Just woke up in the middle of the night from one of those dreams, the ones that feel very real. I was at this dark pathway surrounded by thick trees. I think it was that boardwalk that they were building by Noah’s place, but in the dream it was finished. I saw Noah down the path holding a camera running towards me. As he ran past me, I felt Mr. Slim’s presence immediately. Then I turned my head right and realized he was right next to me with those black tendrils protruding from his body. When I looked up, his head turned to me. The tendrils began to wrap around me and I couldn’t move or breathe. I woke up choking for air. Oscar is doing this thing again where he’s standing as still as a statue on my desk and staring out the window. He only does this some nights, but I’m noticing a trend that more often than not seems to coincide with these dreams. And this man. There’s someone in a hoodie walking way down my street now. It’s 4 AM. This is the 7th time I’ve seen them. I think they’re taking pictures. It’s too dark to ma

Okay so as I was writing just now there was a piercing scream. It’s from Mom’s room. It’s John and he’s yelling now, “What the fuck, Mary? What the fuck are you doing this time?” and I hear Mom crying. A glass just broke, John cursing. I can’t make out
december 15 2006
what she’s saying in between sobs but John just said, “For the last time, I have no idea who this fucking guy is! Have you lost your goddamn mind?” John says she’s gotta see a head doctor because something’s not right upstairs. He said that Mom’s gotta get on some psycho meds and she cried NO! This is not the first time I’ve woken up to them arguing, but this is the first time I was awake to hear it start. This time is particularly bad. I’m not going out to investigate, but there’s no way I’m going back to sleep now. It’s been an hour and things have quieted down. I took a peek outside to see John on the couch watching TV. I know he’s going to be cranky today because he’s missed out on sleep again. Not looking forward to that. The glass breaking reminds me of that night with Kevin and the spirit board. After everything that’s been going down, I’m considering trying it again. Maybe the spirits have something to say. I don’t think they lie.

Thursday, April 26, 2018

campfire

november 12 2006
We’re visiting Noah for his 15th birthday now. We drove down this time because flights were too expensive. I haven’t seen him since 2003, and he’s grown a lot. He’s starting high school now and has a different haircut, but he’s still the same great friend. Even though it was his birthday, he gave me some toys for Oscar and a $50 gift card to Best Buy. He said it’s been a long time since we’ve hung out and these gifts were to make up for my missed birthdays. I feel bad because we also got him a Best Buy gift card, but only a $20 one. He said it doesn’t matter though, since the real gift was having me there in person again. I’m still looking at potential colleges, but I think I’d like to apply to some in Florida near Noah so we can hang out more often. I don’t know if it’s his kindness or the fact that his shadow doppelganger has been helping me, but I feel safest and happiest in his company. There was little to no fighting this visit because John came along with us this time and he and Alex are maintaining the peace between our moms. I’m so happy to have John here to balance them out. For Noah’s party we went bowling, had cake, and saw Casino Royale. After the movie, we came back to Noah’s house and roasted marshmallows on the seawall dock in the vacant lot next door. There were five other kids around the campfire and they all were friendly, except for this one guy Tyler. I remember hanging with him from previous visits and he always came off as an obnoxious dick who wanted to be the center of attention. He kept making jokes that weren’t funny and getting up in people’s space for a laugh. Everything was going fine until he suggested we tell ghost stories. When it
november 12 2006
was my turn, I felt like I might as well draw from real life experience for an extra spooky story. I told them the tale of Mr. Slim, the faceless man who stalks children while they sleep.* It was hard to properly convey the fear he instills without embellishing a bit, so I added that if you don’t wake up in time to catch him he will devour your soul. I told them he’s been after me since I was young and I’ve been able to survive because I know exactly when he comes at night. Telling the tale reminded me of group therapy at that mental institute when we would take turns sharing stories of what we saw in our visions. It felt really nice to just be open with it. I saw something across the canal and stopped mid-sentence. It was him. I’m certain of it because I felt his gaze. That familiar, awful feeling of impending doom came over me and I froze. It was then that Tyler grabbed me from behind and screamed in my ear. I freaked out and darted around the seawall in a panic, nearly falling in the water as he chased me laughing like a hyena. I ran back inside, locked myself in the bathroom, and cried. I heard them all laughing outside and it felt like school all over again. I stayed there until everyone left and Noah came in to apologize to me for Tyler. He said he’s not inviting him to his next birthday and cheered me up with some leftover cake and video games. As I said goodbye to Noah today, I became very anxious. Considering that this entity seems to be interested in my family and friends, I worry that I might infect him like Kevin. But if shadow Noah is real, what if he’s already infected? On the way home, I saw the faceless suited man. I took out my phone
november 12 2006
to snap a picture, but realized that it was just a mannequin in a storefront. I also noticed that there are some pictures on my phone that I don’t remember taking. One is us eating at Arby’s and another is the hallway of the hotel that we stayed at on the drive down. Either slight memory loss is a lingering side effect of withdrawal from those caps, or a symptom of seeing that being. I’m pretty sure now that my memory lapses correlate with his presence, like taking a strong magnet to a VCR... except it’s my brain. I’m unsure if the mystery drug compounded my memory loss, but to its credit it seems to have negated the being’s effects on me. Nothing paranormal ever happened to me when I was on autopilot, taking it twice daily. Maybe... they were trying to help me? But regardless, it’s at the cost of my soul. Whether their covert endeavors are somehow worth it for my benefit as a sovereign human being is just another scary campfire story.

*i vaguely remember milo’s campfire story, i was honestly zoned out. i remember him saying something about a creepy man who watches him sleep before tyler pulled that stunt. thing is, what i do remember most was feeling that same nebulous feeling of impending doom for a brief moment as milo ran. i thought nothing of it at the time. now i know that i could feel the administrator's presence back then too. our family is cursed, and has been for some time.

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

flu

october 20 2006
October 20 2006
I’m forced to live a lie and act like a zombie to be safe, but I guess that’s my life now. I was trapped for years inside my head, but I had awareness. I’m able to recall how I acted day to day so I can mimic drugged me to a T. I’ve gotten used to the routine and done my best to act as I did before my awakening. I’ve since graduated from high school and I’ve gotten a job at the local library to save up for college. Once I get enough cash to move out, I’m going to try to go into filmmaking. I’ve also gotten my own cell phone now. I don’t use it much, other than talking to Noah and Kevin sometimes. I think Mom only got it for me because the family plan is cheapest. I’ve been unsure about what to do now, given my current situation. I’ve considered running away, but after some thinking I’ve decided to maintain this facade for as long as I can until I can get some solid dirt on Mom to bust her. I can’t let her get away with what she’s done and what she’s still fucking doing. She still gives me the black and white capsules to take, but I’ve gotten really good at palming them. Sometimes I have to swallow them because she has her eye on me. I’ve noticed she asks me a question right after so she can hear me talk and make sure I’m not hiding it under my tongue. I dissolved one in vinegar since I learned back in Bio Lab that it has a similar pH as stomach acid, and it takes around 15 mins to dissolve so I know how much time I have to vomit. I’ve lost some weight due to this, but late
october 20 2006 - october 31 2006
night ramen helps. I’ve been collecting the caps in my hiding spot as evidence for when the right time comes. It’s been over month now since I’ve taken one and I no longer feel hazy. The only noticeable difference is this cough I get when I don’t take it. I’m recalling now that it has always followed going cold turkey from that capsule. OTC cough meds and throat lozenges are like candy to me now. I still take the blue pill, which I’ve identified as a benzo, because it actually help to quell my anxiety, but not the red one because they make me too drowsy and I’m pretty damn sure that I don’t have schizophrenia. I’m almost certain now that the beings I can see are real and any psychotic behavior I’ve ever had has been a direct result of them, not a neurological imbalance. I’ve not taken that tablet for long periods of time in the past without any psychotic episodes and I don’t think an antipsychotic chemical can stop their influence. I’m still hearing voices, but now I know they’re real. I can’t explain any of it concretely, but the entries and what I’m able to remember is honestly all the evidence I need to prove it to myself.

October 31 2006
What a fitting day for such a horrifying memory to return. I remember what happened after Mom came into my room that night and knocked me out. It all came to me in pieces after seeing John take out the trash today. I recall waking up in my
october 31 2006
bed that night nearly paralyzed with Mom looming over me like a vulture on prey. I kept thinking that my spell didn’t work and it was all over. The most movement I could muster as she forced me to swallow a capsule was blinking and moving my head a bit. “Who is Mr. Scars?” she was shouting at me over and over. I tried to say, “I don’t know,” but it just came out as gibberish. She said I was grounded and that I wasn’t going to see Noah that year if I don’t tell her.* She also told me that if I tell John anything to jeopardize their relationship she’ll ship me off to the institute. She was on the phone a lot, pacing around the house. I remember John coming home from work and feeding me soup the next day saying, “You’re gonna get over this flu in no time, pal.” Mom made the poor bastard clean up after me. I remember her looking all over my room multiple times. She changed her tone, “Honey, where’s your journal?” I didn’t respond. I stared right past her. I figured, since she made me a vegetable then that’s exactly what I’ll be. Then, on the third day, she found it behind the dresser. I felt so helpless and cloudy seeing her hold what is essentially my only connection to my past memories, first hand evidence of her crimes, and all the truth I had come to discover. She held my mind in her hands. But, she couldn’t open it without the key. “Where’s the key, Honey?” When I ignored her again, she went to get these big wire cutters that John had from his repair man days. Just when she was about to
october 31 2006
clamp down, she stopped and broke down sobbing. She threw the journal across the room and shouted, “Shut up!” I managed to say my first words. “Mom...” She looked at me with those red, shiny eyes. “...please don’t erase me.” She came over and hugged me, crying into my shoulder. I cried too. I distinctly remember her saying, “I’m so sorry baby, this is the only way to stop this.” Then she got a call on her cell phone. She spoke German to someone briefly. When she hung up, she stared at me for a good minute or two. I could tell she was conflicted, unsure what to do next. There was a noise outside that broke her from her pensive trance. She snatched up the journal and rushed out of the room. I heard a rustling of plastic before she ran out the door shouting, “Wait! Wait!” I was able to turn my head to my window in time to see the garbage truck turn the street corner. I was overcome with profound sadness and I cried, but at the time I wasn’t sure why I was crying. The caps were doing their job. I remember asking when she came back to my room, “What’s my temperature?” as I figured that I had the flu. Each day after I was given those caps, my sense of self became fuzzier and weaker. I think I was in bed for a week before regaining my motor skills and going back to camp. I didn’t pop back into streamline consciousness until I was on the bus with Kevin. I felt deeply confused because I still felt all that sadness and anger inside me... but I didn’t know why.
october 31 2006
The next day, I was having bad stomach pains and had to run to the bathroom during 4th period. I had bloody diarrhea and felt something solid snake its way out my ass. I thought it was a tapeworm, so I yanked it out. There was something metallic and sharp on the end covered in shit so I went to the sink to clean it off. I realized it wasn’t a tapeworm at all, but a little key on a string. I put it in a little baggy that I got from lunch because I couldn’t get the damn smell out. When I got home, I was struck with that same sensation I had felt when I found the journal. Something came over me and I went into my closet, opened my hiding spot, put the key in my box of secret treasures, and closed it all up. As soon as I left the closet, I had completely forgot what I had just done and was left again very confused. All I could make out inside me was this vague sense of deja vu. I’m unsure if shadow Noah’s incantation was successful or not, but somehow... after all this time you found your way back to me. How did you do it, journal? Who helped you? I swore I just heard a whisper. I heard “cousin”.

*milo didn’t visit me in 2004 or 2005. mary told my mom that he was “busy with work”. we still spoke on the phone every so often and had general conversations about games and stuff. sometimes we would make up stories together, but he barely ever went into his personal life other than saying he was doing well.

Thursday, April 12, 2018

puppet

september 17 2006
September 17 2006
I slept through my birthday. I was out for a good 13 hours. I woke up at 7 PM on the 16th with a massive headache, starving. Mom had left a sticky note on my door. She and John had gone out for drinks and there was cake in the fridge. There was cake in the fridge alright, one slice of cake in a big empty container with another note. “We got hungry and didn’t want to wake you. Happy birthday! – love, Mom & Dad”. I ate the cake. Stale and hard. Then I remembered this journal. During my long sleep, it felt like my mind had reassembled itself. I can remember everything. I realized that I can remember all of those lost memories, and I wept. And I threw up. I was asleep for two years. Then it hit me. I had completely missed my medication yesterday. I heated up some ramen and reread every entry of my horrifying past. When I reached the abrupt end of the last entry from 2004, the rest of what happened continued playing in my mind’s eye as I had remembered it, so now I’m going to write what went down in case I forget again. As I was writing in the middle of the night, Mom suddenly knocked on my door asking to come in saying it was very important. I said hold on just a moment I’m not feeling well. I knew that the jig was up, this was it for me. I knew this story. I was the little pig and she was the big bad wolf coming to eat me. She started banging now. “Open the fucking door!” she screamed. It was then that I remembered my shadow Noah dream and I instantly knew that it was a prophecy of that very moment. I knew
september 17 2006
what I had to do. I put the journal against the door, drew the symbol, and said, “praesidium adversus egotisticus”. Then, I locked the journal, hid it behind the dresser, and swallowed the key. As I gulped she broke open the door and stormed up to me without saying a word, the shiny look in her eyes gives me chills just thinking about. She put a foul smelling cloth over my face and stuck something sharp in my neck. Everything after that was a blur. The next time I remember being conscious was on the camp bus with Kevin. At the time, I didn’t know what had happened but it felt like I had woken up from a long nap. I asked him how long I was asleep for and he said that I hadn’t been asleep, but I was out with the flu for a week. I had no memories of my journal, what Mom had done, or anything else I had discovered. All I could grasp was this general but certain feeling of having a happy childhood... just like how I felt before I found the journal back in 2003. It’s like my mind was wiped clean... again. At least now I know why I shat out a key one day. Those damn capsules made me forget about my safe spot over the years, among everything else. Now I know it was me who was banging on the door in my mental library. For two years, I was trapped in there. Now that I’m free and my mind is complete again, I’m never going to let them take my memory ever again. I would rather die than be someone’s fucking puppet.

Monday, April 9, 2018

library

 two years pass.

september 15 2006
September 15 2006
I’m having a lot of trouble processing this journal. This shouldn’t exist, and yet... here it is. This is a real object and I’m writing in it. I was at work, I’ve been working at the library for over a year now, and I was putting away books from the book drop at the end of the day... and there was this black book at the bottom of the return pile that caught my eye. It had no markings but had a lock on it. I was positive I had never seen it before in my life but... I was overcome with this intense mix of emotions when I held it, like a hidden door in the library of my mind had suddenly appeared and someone was knocking from the other side. And I’ve felt this knocking before too, but in that moment it was the loudest it’s ever been. It felt so oddly familiar, like recognizing someone random on the street that you somehow know you have a deep personal connection with. With trembling hands I stashed it in my backpack and biked home as fast as I could, my heart racing. Mom was still out at her Alcoholics Anonymous meeting and my stepdad was asleep on the couch. I ran into my room and froze as this intense feeling of deja vu smacked me in the face. I heard an inner voice coming from behind that door in my mind. Whispers. It told me to look in my closet for something. Something hidden. I searched around for a good half hour and found a removable panel in the wall. There was a box inside the wall filled with various things, some more familiar to me than others.
september 15 2006
These were my old toys, this was my secret hiding place. The door in my mind was banging louder and louder. And then I saw it. Inside a small plastic bag, there was a key tied to a band made of the same material as the book. I knew instantly that this is what I was looking for. I unlocked the book and as soon as I saw the inscription that said it belonged to me, the door in my mind flew open and out poured a torrent of memories that flooded my head like a dam had burst. Behind that door was a whole other library containing a forgotten life that I never even knew I had lived. This was MY journal, and I had chronicled my life in it for many years. I’ve been staying up all night frantically devouring page after page, entry after entry and this missing history of my life is revealing itself before my eyes. As I’m writing this now, my head is spinning and I’m still drowning in this surge of memory, but it’s the horror of what I’m reading that’s suffocating me. A group of supernatural shadow people, a business monster, a secret organization of wizard cultists, a magic journal at Grandpa’s, a mystery medication I’m still taking, a mountain of lies from my Mom... in an instant my life has turned upside down... this is all far too much to take in. It’s now 6 AM and it’s my 18th birthday, but it feels like I’ve been reborn into hell. Luckily, this is just one of my terrible vivid nightmares and I’m going to wake up in the real world soon and laugh and laugh at such a ridiculous dream.

Friday, April 6, 2018

slipped

july 9 2004
July 9 2004
I made the decision today to go back into Mom’s safe to see what else she’s been hiding from me. I need to know what she’s really been doing because getting stuck in these thought loops has driven me to take the anxiety tablet, which actually seems to work and calms me down. When I replaced you in the safe with the decoy, I saw several folders of documents inside as well. After camp when Mom went to her “PTA meeting”, I picked the lock to her room again and tried to open the safe. But the combination didn’t work. I know I’m entering it right because I wrote the numbers down in case I forgot. I think she changed it, which freaks me out. It’s been nearly a year, but why would she change her safe combo? I have a feeling that she knows I’ve been snooping in it. Now I guess I’ll have to wait for my shadow self to show me the code again. Either way, I can’t look at Mom the same way after going to the doctor. At dinner we got into an argument about money being tight. I suggested that I should stop taking my pills because they’re expensive and I’m doing a lot better now so I feel that I can get off of them and save us cash. Mom was insistent that I keep taking them and threatened that if I don’t she’ll send me back to the psych ward because she won’t risk another psychotic break. John didn’t know what had happened so she told him
july 9 2004
to prove her point. A few years back in 2001, I hadn’t taken my meds for a week or two and one night I woke up from a fugue state pressing a knife up to Mom’s throat. She freaked and sent me to the mental hospital. They said this happened because I was off my meds, so they upped my dose. This all made John really uneasy and he said I should probably keep taking them, just in case. I was so angry but I said sure thing just to keep the argument from escalating and we kept eating. But I fucked up. I fucked up bad. I was so caught up in my frustrated thoughts that my tongue slipped. Mom asked John how work was today, then she asked me how camp was, and after I asked Mom how book club went. I wasn’t thinking and it just came out, like it was something I had used to ask her routinely when I was younger. I corrected myself saying I meant PTA meeting, but it was too late. Mom hid it well, but I could see something in her expression change. She said that the meeting went well, but then barely spoke for the rest of the meal. I’m terrified now that she knows I’m on to her. She’s neurotic as hell, but she isn’t dumb. I just know she knows that I’m awake now. I have to play it extra safe around her now that she probably figures that I’m aware of the heaps of lies she’s built
july 9 2004
our family on for years. She either knows that I haven’t been taking those capsules, that I’ve been peeping in her safe, that I have this journal back, or all three. And who knows what other damning shit she thinks I know since I had access to those records. I should have fucking read them when I had the chance. What if they have information about Dad? What if Mom had lied abo

Tuesday, April 3, 2018

capsule

june 14 2004
June 14 2004
I saw my psychiatrist today for my biannual checkup. We had a very different session than usual this time around. She noticed that I was acting unusual and asked what had changed. Because my therapy admissions are private between only us, I felt comfortable spilling the beans. I said that I had been off my medication for almost half a year. I told her that I feel much better now, like my head is clear and my memory is improving. She said that was interesting and asked if there had been any downsides. I said that my dreams have gotten more nightmarish and frightening, I’ve started to sleepwalk, and I think I’m starting to see this strange man out of the corner of my eye. She said that while she’s happy I feel that I’ve made a positive improvement, my symptoms are worrying and going cold turkey is dangerous for my mental and physical health in the long run. She said I was doing so well last visit and made so much progress going through the trouble of finding the right cocktail of drugs that worked for me that I should reevaluate my decision to stop taking them. She said for me to take a step back and make a personal judgement if staying off these meds in exchange for mental clarity is worth the risk of having another dangerous schizophrenic relapse, or if taking them again to achieve that previous stable state of mental health we had worked years to achieve is worth bearing the negative side effects of those drugs.
june 14 2004
She told me she will send out refills for my meds, recommending that I should go back on them immediately if any psychotic events begin to occur. I asked more about the meds. She said the blue one calms my anxiety and the red one is an antipsychotic. But when I asked what about the capsule, she said that she’s only ever prescribed me those two. I caught myself and said I meant the vitamin supplements. Internally, I was freaking the hell out. What the FUCK are those black and white capsules I’ve been taking for most of my life? They must have come from that Henka guy. I had written that he sold Mom my capsules back then, so they must be them because back then I had only been taking that black and white one for years. I felt super conflicted leaving Dr. Garner’s office. She was right. I was pretty stable on those drugs and doing fairly well on the surface before I found this journal. I honestly felt decently happy. But looking back on it now that I can think straight, the truth is that those meds kept the real me bound and gagged inside my head while my life just passed by without me, like I was stuck on autopilot. Now that I got that neurological muzzle off my cognizance I don’t ever want to go back to that state of being, even if it means risking going back to that institute. I don’t want simulated happiness because being in control of my consciousness and being able to see
june 14 2004
the real truth is what gives me real comfort. I can see so clearly now. I really think these visions of beings are not only real, but are guiding me with purpose and those chemicals I’m expected to swallow just make me blind deaf and dumb to perceiving them. But... what if this is the plan? To turn me into a complacent zombie, erase my memory, and keep me from asking questions... all because I somehow have some bizarre paranormal curse that they apparently have a stake in due to some magic journal that my recluse Grandpa has? It sounds so goddamn crazy... but there are too many red flags surrounding me and they’re all pointing to the same place. All these thoughts lead me back to Mom and her growing list secrets that I’ve learned, thanks to the existence of these pages. I’ve got this sickening feeling that I’m being puppeteered by a third party for some nefarious purpose and that Mom is in on it and has been in on it for years, considering the fact that she somehow still brings home those damn capsules. It all makes me so very overwhelmed and I feel so fucking sick. Who do I trust? Who can I trust? I’m alone in this world.