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| september 16 2007 |
September 16 2007
I’m 19 now. I woke up to Oscar sitting on my chest, licking my face. At least someone cares it’s my birthday. I don’t really have birthday parties anymore. What usually happens now is that I wake up to a card from John and Mom with a meager amount of cash and an extra nice meal if I’m lucky. I know money is tight right now, but the ‘love’ I’m receiving feels so... corporate. Like it’s only there for the sake of keeping up appearances. I’m glad I have a roof over my head and food to eat, but more and more I feel like I’m in a rat in a cage disguised as a home. I will escape this cage one day, but until then I must deal with these cards I’ve been dealt. These awful, terrible cards. But despite my unfortunate hand, I’m still in the game. Today I decided to treat myself by doing something that’s been on my mind for a while, buying myself a camcorder. I’ve always wanted to have my very own video camera so I figured, why not just go out and buy one? I have enough money saved up from work, and the birthday cash helps too. I’ve been reading several books about film production and I want to maybe get involved in the film industry someday, so I might as well start somewhere. I asked John to drive me to Best Buy because Mom asleep past noon again. We picked out a decent camera for $500 and some tapes. John admitted they hadn’t bothered to get me a cake due to some argument so he took me out to eat at my favorite restaurant, this little family run German place, which I honestly preferred to some store bought cake. Some of my best times now are spent alone bonding with John, it’s always different when Mom is there with us. He always talks about how Mom has changed, how she’s grown more distant and that magic he felt years ago just isn’t there. I think deep
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| september 16 2007 - october 7 2007 |
down, we both know the relationship is on the rocks. I feel so bad for John. He’s a genuinely good person and he certainly deserves better than the likes of my Mom. Leaving the restaurant, I saw Mr. Slim in the parking lot, clear as day. As much as videography was on my mind, so was the prospect of capturing evidence of this creature. I gripped the camera package tight as we drove away. I’ve been wondering, if I was able to catch him in a photo, maybe I could catch him on video? Even if others are unable to notice him at first, I might be one step closer to proving my sanity. Testing the camera out, an idea hit me. I’m going to set up the camera to record out my window overnight to see if I can catch the guy who’s been snapping photos late at night. The tapes are reusable, so I can do this nightly until I capture whoever is doing this. I’m going to cut a hole in a tissue box, hide the camera in it, and place it on my windowsill inconspicuously. Someone thinks they can film me without me knowing? Well, two can play that game.
October 7 2007
I’m at Karl’s house. The shadow version of me is there. I follow him up the stairs into a closet I’ve never been inside before. He pulls aside a rack of coats and kneels to unscrew an air vent. Then, I’m sitting in a chair in a dark room. I’m holding something heavy. It’s a gun. My left arm is covered in wounds and I’m in tears. Shadow Noah is standing in a doorway nearby. The door in front of me opens and someone walks in. Their presence fills me with a strong mix of emotions. As these feelings reach a peak, I wake. It’s 4 PM. I usually have these intense dreams when I sleep in this late. My daily routine for the past three weeks consists of hooking up my camera to the TV and spending a few hours
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| october 7 2007 |
fast forwarding through the nighttime surveillance footage to see if I’ve caught the stalker on film. So far, it’s been silent save for September 30th. Someone in a hoodie can be seen walking down the street at 3 AM. Could be nothing, but it’s very suspicious to me. When I went to my psychiatrist, I asked hypothetically what it would happen if a patient was able to capture evidence of their hallucinations. She told me this story about a delusional patient she had in the 90s who was convinced that there was a man in a big coat wandering around his home at night, spying on him from the woods while he slept. One day, he came to her proclaiming that he had gotten him on tape. She watched his footage and to her surprise there was something there on the tape. Turns out, it was just a bear. I showed her the evidence from my phone. She didn’t acknowledge anything, but instead told me that she believes that I am seeing these beings and that if I’m able to capture what I see on video she can help me make better sense of what I’m perceiving. I’ve been seeing Mr. Slim more often now but, like the night stalker, he’s eluded my capture so far. Trying to film him has been a string of frustrating inconveniences. Either I’ve not had my camera with me, or when I do he always disappears by the time it’s turned on. I’ve had a few really close calls at work, but I’ve got nothing definitive on tape yet. The video has also heavily corrupted playback at times. Either this new camera is broken, or his very presence warps electronics. I think Mr. Slim has some kind of mental cloaking ability that allows him to hide in plain sight. For some reason, immediate members of my family are less susceptible to it. My theory is that the more you are exposed to his presence the more his camouflage wears off and his influence becomes apparent to you, just like how photosensitive paper is blank until a light source is
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| october 7 2007 |
shown through a negative at it and an image slowly becomes visible. I think me being close to Kevin weakened the camouflage’s effect on him, kind of like getting radiation poisoning from being exposed to an excessive amount of high energy waves. I also believe that the more you’re able to see him, the more he chooses to invade your life. For whatever reason, this being doesn’t like his cover being blown. It makes me wonder who else I could have put at risk by merely being in frequent close proximity to over the years. Maybe my extended family? What about my teachers and classmates? How about my coworkers or the neighbors? My stepdad? The mailman? Oscar? Who knows, but I think that if I’m able to capture hard visual validation of Mr. Slim on tape by my biannual checkup in June and prove to Dr. Garner that he is a real entity, I can make the case that I’m not schizophrenic after all. I don’t expect for her to spot him instantly, but considering how we have an established history together it might not take all that much to reveal him. She may very well see him just as soon as Noah did. I do realize that this potentially puts Dr. Garner in danger, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take at this point. If she believes me, I’ll have a reputable ally in the scientific community to vouch for my claims and maybe then some actual progress can be made. Until then, the only thing I have to look forward to is eating New York food. Elizabeth and Will Adler are getting formally recognized in a ceremony for scholastic achievement in December and Mom and I are flying up north to attend. I eavesdropped on Mom and John talking in the middle of the night and she mentioned something about visiting Grandpa Karl for something important. If we do stop by his house for whatever reason, I’m going to try to find that closet vent. I’m pretty sure that’s where he’s hidden the journal.
