Sunday, September 30, 2018

tapes

may 5 2008
May 5 2008
Trying to make sense of everything that happened today has been a serious effort. I’m writing from the plane back to Alabama after my 3 day long panic attack at Noah’s this weekend and I’m still bewildered at what happened. After I finished writing the last entry, I went to bed directly into a nightmare. I dreamt that I was looking for something in the vacant lot next to Noah’s house. I had a peculiar feeling regarding the tree on the property. It appeared far too dark and smooth. I went over to touch it, but felt nothing. I was then hit with this electrical shock and when I opened my eyes from wincing I was lying down on something hard and cold in a dark forest. Surrounding above me were several figures in black hoods with masks. I couldn’t move. Out of the trees came another cloaked person, but this one I recognized from the skull. It was Henka. As I stared at his lack of jaw, I was overcome with this disturbing feeling of having a deep spiritual connection with him. He leered over me and black tendrils emerged from his eyeholes and robe, wrapping around my throat. I couldn’t breathe. When I came to I was gasping and coughing... standing in front of Noah’s garage in the dark holding his camera. It felt just as real as the dream. I couldn’t tell the difference, so I figured I was still dreaming. This nagging urge to search for something was tugging at my inner compass, so I hit record and walked around. I was nearly scared to death by an AC unit turning on before noticing that unusually dark tree again. I went closer to it, blinked, and suddenly Mr. Slim was standing right beside it. I made a mad dash back inside and took refuge in Noah’s room. I checked the footage and was surprised to find that I had
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caught the bastard on tape again. It’s hard to see, but a tie against white and blank head are plainly visible. At this point, I felt like I had more than enough visual evidence for both Noah and Dr. Garner, so I pocketed Noah’s tape and replaced it with one of my blanks. Despite the splitting headache, I popped another triptan and found it easy to fall back to sleep. Peace of mind is a rare commodity. I was just beginning to dream about standing over a lake looking at what appeared to be a vehicle at the bottom with its lights on when the slam of a door woke me abruptly. I pretended to be asleep as I heard footsteps drag down the hallway. I had been sleeping on a pullout mattress next to Noah’s bed, and I was shaken by a sudden movement of the bedframe. I waited in silent terror until I heard snoring. I peered over the bedside to see Noah in his day clothes, face down and sprawled across the bed. His video camera was strapped around his hand. I delicately removed it and rewound the tape. There was new footage of him walking around a playground, the one at Victor Park.* Noah was sleepwalking, but there’s no way he could have walked that far and back within the hour I went back to sleep. The end of the footage was very jarring. There’s a sudden cut and then a point blank close up of Mr. Slim, closer than I’ve ever seen before, and Noah runs out of the playground towards a light screaming. There is a shot of moving trees before a green tinted shot of someone. Someone with glasses. Kevin’s glasses. Then there is one final shot, a clear visual of me standing next to Mr. Slim at the boardwalk, tentacles branching from his torso and undulating in front of me. I’ve had a dream of that exact scene from my perspective nearly a year and a half ago. While freaking out about what I
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was seeing, I felt my pocket and realized that my phone was missing. I searched my bed, suitcase, my other pants, but it was gone. I took the landline and called my number. I heard the buzz of my phone’s vibration nearby. It came from Noah’s pocket. He was out cold so I took out the phone and checked it. One new audio clip, one new photo. The audio clip was Noah laughing to himself all creepy like, but the photo was even creepier. It was Noah’s face, distorted and grinning maniacally. Due to my presence or not, he was already experiencing Mr. Slim’s influence. What really threw me for a loop was seeing Kevin. No way he followed me all the way here. But then how the fuck is he on the tape? I opened it that night. Why the fuck is he involved with everything? I decided to swap the tape out again, put Noah’s tape back for now, and take both with me before I leave so I can show Garner. On a hunch, I took a sharpie and drew the eye symbol on my tape for added protection. I didn’t sleep. In the morning when Noah woke, he asked if he had worn his PJs to bed. He definitely had changed clothes that night, but I said I didn’t remember.** This flight left at 6, so now I had mere hours left to break the news to Noah. After all this time, I was still coming up short with figuring out a way to approach him about it. After some reminiscing, Noah left me alone to get some food. I took a deep breath and decided that I was going to tell him once he gets back. When he went out, he left his camera on the dock still recording, I assume on accident. It really is a nice camera compared to my old one, and I’m considering saving up for a similar model. As I was admiring it, I caught sight of Mr. Slim ogling me from Noah’s closet and I bolted out the front door. I stood there hyperventilating for a
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quick minute before pulling myself together, taking a deep breath, and running back inside. The more footage of Slim I get the better, I figured. This was the time to face my fears and actually do something valiant. All cylinders pumping hot adrenaline, I rushed down the hallway and into Noah’s room. The closet was empty. I then was struck with one of the worst cluster headaches I’ve ever had and collapsed in the hallway. I saw him, he was in the room across the house, peeking at me. I was nearly paralyzed in throbbing pain as he dipped into the room and instantaneously out from the laundry room a few feet away. That was the last thing I saw before I blacked out. Next thing I knew, I was sitting back on the bed like I had just imagined it all. Almost half an hour had passed, the camera still in my hands. The front door shut and Noah walked in with groceries. He saw me holding the camera and asked, “Filming something?” This was it. It was time to rip off the bandaid. I told Noah that he should sit down because I had something very important to talk to him about.*** My heart was racing as he sat next to me and I turned on the camera to rewind the tape. “Have you been seeing anything unusual since I arrived?” I asked. “No, at least not that I can think of.” I asked him to think hard and he replied, “Well, other than you being a weirdo, no.” and I said, “I want to show you why I’ve been acting this way.” He gave me a dubious look. I asked if he had any AV cables to hook up the camera to the TV and he got them for me. I hooked up the camera to his TV, played back the tape starting from when I rang the doorbell, and told Noah to watch very closely and say if he noticed anything out of the ordinary. As it played, I had palpitations because I noticed something early on.
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I rewound and watched in silent trepidation as I caught Slim lurking in the darkness of the laundry room. I knew that I had felt him near. I glanced at Noah, he didn’t seem to catch it. I saw him again in the reflection of the TV when we were talking on Saturday and on the boardwalk as Noah ran after me. Every time he appeared in the footage, I looked back to Noah who didn’t seem phased at all. As we got to the portion that I filmed on Saturday night, Noah began to get uneasy and asked, “What the hell? Did you film this?” “Just watch,” I said. At the end of the clip where the distortion was, for a split second I saw him in the jittery frames. I rewound until I landed on the frame where the distinct shape of a tie was visible. “Do you see anything?” I questioned. Noah looked closely in this unblinking pensive stare and opened his mouth to say something but just shook his head. “Let’s continue,” I said. Fast forwarding to the next clip, we arrived at the nature trail. “Why’s the camera keep fucking up? It’s all brand new,” he said as we got to the tower clip. “It’s not the camera.” He gave me an unnerved look at that, a look that almost said, “Is THAT what this feeling is?” I will never forget that look. I paused at the point where Slim appears in the clearing of trees and saw that Noah had this odd expression on his face, like he was looking at something he couldn’t quite understand. I played through the next bit of us driving home and me filming outside, but this time Noah said nothing. We got to the point in the day where Noah went to the store and Slim appeared in the closet. There was this strange disjointed footage that accompanied what I remembered. Before ending, there was a shot of Noah’s ceiling fan, bizarre footage of the floor spinning, and a clip of the boardwalk at night. As the tape ended,
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I looked back to Noah who was fixated to the black screen. “Did you see anything?” There was a breathless silence. “Rewind the tape, Milo.” More palpitations. I rewound and played it again. Now, every time Slim appeared Noah blinked a few times. His mouth was slightly ajar with morbid fascination. I could tell that he still couldn’t see him, but he knew that something was there. He felt it like I did. The blinders were fading. “Again,” he said sternly and once more I rewound it. Once the tape got to the part where Mr. Slim appeared in the clearing Noah grabbed the remote from me, rewound, and paused the tape. He pointed directly to the figure, glared at me eyes wide and asked, “Who the fuck is this?” I never thought we’d get to this point. “Was he always there? I didn’t see him, but now I do. Is this a trick?” I grasped his shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes, “Last year. Do you remember the pantry? Remember the man in the pantry?” Noah’s expression slowly turned from confusion to white terror. “I... That suit...” He started to tear up, I did too. “Yes, you do remember! What did his face look like?” “...Face?” he said trembling, “There wasn’t one, man!” he shouted and started to gasp for air. I embraced him tightly and we cried together. What a powerful release of tension that was. “How could I forget something like that? Why was that thing in my house? What the fuck is going on, Milo?” I began to explain that the faceless man is a supernatural being that’s been haunting our family for years, that my mom is secretly in on it along with some religious cult, and that she’s been attempting to drug me since my childhood to keep me subservient. I told him that Grandpa Karl has a powerful book that they’re trying
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to get and that they’ve been using me to try and steal it from him. His face went red with overwhelming rejection and, “That’s all bullshit! You can’t be serious!” he yelled at me. I assured him that it was all true, pointing to the screen. “Why are you telling me all this now?” “Because I have reason to believe that they may be coming for you next. The fact that you can see him means he sees you now.” He shouted through tears that he didn’t want to be involved in any of this shit, but I told him that there’s no use because our whole family is plagued with this. He kept looking back and forth from me to the TV and back. “I’ve... seen him in my dreams, other times too... How have I forgotten it all...” “He wipes your memory. He erases himself.” I then told him that my mom was the one who burned our houses down and helped to sink that boat in 95 because of Mr. Slim’s influence. “Aunt Mary torched our houses? Why?!” “I think she was trying to spare us from the entity’s curse through some twisted mercy.” “How do you know all this?!” “I really don’t know, I have no proof, but a shadow spirit told me through a Ouija board.” This was far too much for him to take in, I could tell his world was spinning. “This isn’t happening, this isn’t real,” he mumbled to himself, rocking back and forth with his hands to his head in distress. I was stricken with grief at what state I had reduced my cousin to. “I’m so sorry this is the way it is, Noah, but I had to warn you,” I pleaded, “I want you to be prepared in case he...” He grabbed me tight, “I don’t want to forget again, Milo.” I identified so hard with him.**** “I don’t want to forge-” he inhaled sharply, let go of me, and backed up on the bed in fright. He pointed at the
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doorway, his hand covering his screaming mouth. I turned around to the doorway and fell to my knees. It was shadow Noah. He put his finger over his mouth, “Shhhhhhhhhhhh,” and gestured to Noah on the bed. Instantly, Noah was out cold. “Shadow Noah...” I began to say. “Call me Firebrand,” he smirked. It was him, the one speaking to me from the spirit board. “Praesidium Adversus Egotisticus...” I mouthed. He nodded. “You’ve done well, Milo. He is almost awake. Upon a third realization, the veil will lift and he will see the storm.” “What are you?” “The result of your efforts. Without you, Noah would be lost to the beast.” “Why are you here?” “To ensure the fidelity of the loop.” “What loop?” “The iteration of our timeline where I can do this.” Behind him, almost on cue, Mr. Slim slid in from the hallway, tentacles waving wildly. With a huge grin, Firebrand turned around and flipped him off. It was a profound moment. He looked back towards me on the floor. “You’ve assisted Noah more than you know, but your time is done here, and have a flight to catch.” “But what do I do next? I still have to tell Noah everything!” “No need. Noah is in good hands now. Keep your distance. Face the monsters back home. Open the safe. Bring your mother to justice. When we meet again, your destiny will be clear.” He then snapped his fingers and I suddenly became aware of the g-force sensation of my plane taking off. Time just skipped, it was like a record skipping forward. I took out the journal from my bag and I’ve been writing for 2 hours now. More memories are returning as I write. After the snap, I can only recall packing my things
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and leaving Noah’s house in the airport taxi. But I remember us being... normal. Noah seemed chipper, as did I. We were on some kind of autopilot, but I’m not sure if he has forgotten everything like last time. I just remembered the tapes. There’s only one in my bag, my tape with the symbol. Most of the footage of Mr. Slim is back on Noah’s tape, and it’s far too late to go back for it. Even though I completed the mission I set out to do after drowning in indecision for days, I’m now faced with even more indecision. That close up of Slim on this tape should be enough for Dr. Garner. I’m seeing her in a month. If I really need to, I’ll contact Noah for a copy of his tape. But, should I even contact him at all? What if he really has forgotten? What if he’s been wiped to the point where he doesn’t remember filming? What if he doesn’t remember my visit at all? My anxiety has returned with a vengeance. I’m not sure if I could handle another best friend not remembering who I was. I guess I’ll know when he contacts me next, if he contacts me at all. What if I ask him for a copy of the tape, he watches it, sees Mr. Slim, and permanently wakes up to his existence like me? If this Firebrand guy was telling the truth, and I have no reason to doubt him at this point, then Noah is going to be okay without my aid. If a paranormal being trying to help tells me to keep my distance, I’m not one to argue. If I have any contact with Noah it may only serve to further complicate this master plan.***** I’m going to refrain from any contact with Noah until I can get a better handle on this situation or until I hear otherwise from Firebrand, but for now I must focus on what he told me... facing the monsters back home, cracking open that safe, and dealing with that conniving wench of a woman that I call Mom.

*i had thought that milo had filmed this footage for the longest time. it was me.

**i vaguely remember wondering why i had slept in my regular clothes but disregarded it. i also didn’t even recognize my own distorted face until i read this. i hate it.

***i don’t remember any of this happening other than returning from the store and milo leaving right after.

****reading this broke me. i wish i could remember this. i wish i could relive that bonding moment.

*****it all makes sense now, why milo went silent. he was trying to help me. i don’t blame him for how he acted, especially after what he was experiencing. i just wish that i could tell him that i understand exactly what he was feeling and that he wasn’t alone. to think that he died never hearing that from someone feels like a knife twisting in my chest.

Monday, September 10, 2018

trail

may 4 2008
May 4 2008
I woke from a coughing fit with an awful migraine at 4 AM. The more I think about it, I’ve always coughed more than usual on my Florida trips. But it’s really bad now, I hacked too hard and some chunky blood came up. I drank some Robitussin that I found in Noah’s bathroom and that seemed to help a bit, but my anxiety was shooting through the roof. I went to get my benzo but I’m fresh out. I’ve been taking too many these past few days and I can’t refill for at least another week. My head pain was a more pressing issue, it was extremely uncomfortable. I don’t have any headache medication with me. I tried to ride it out and fall back asleep, but it felt like my brain was being squeezed from the inside and there was no way I could knock myself out with that level of pain. But, I had an idea. Yesterday, Noah showed me this Sodoku Rubix cube he had that was jammed in place and I offered to try and fix it. I asked for an X-Acto knife and he pointed me to the first kitchen drawer. In that drawer were some pill bottles under his dad’s name. One of them was a drug that ended in “triptan”. From my research into medication, I knew that triptans are a class of medicine used for the treatment of migraines. There were definitely a few left in that bottle. I very much didn’t want to go out into the house alone in the dark, his presence was as strong and near as ever. But then I remembered Noah’s camera. Slim hates cameras, so I can at least ward him off and at most have a perfect opportunity to capture proof of his existence. So I took the camera and went to the kitchen, sticking the lens in every open area like spraying bug repellant. I got to the
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drawer and took one tablet. As I swallowed, I swore that I saw something move outside. As I filmed out the window, there was an intense jolt of pain in my neck and I fell. I thought it was a thunderclap headache, but I soon realized that I was struck with something solid from behind. I looked up and I vaguely recall seeing something there on top of the fridge that wasn’t there before, but I can’t remember what it was. I ran back to Noah’s room and blacked out. I don’t remember anything else after getting inside. I woke up on the floor a few hours later to Noah standing over me. I said that I have a sleepwalking problem and left it at that. At least my migrane was gone. While Noah showered, I took the camera and watched what I had filmed. I didn’t seem to have captured anything other than some garbled footage near the end. After breakfast, Noah decided that we’d head out to Victor Park again so we could check out the nature trail and an observation tower. Everything within me was imploring me to object, citing the recurring nightmares I had based there, but I ended up humoring him. I knew I was so fucking close to getting Slim on camera and I may not have this chance again. It felt like he’d been closing in with every passing hour and there was something about that park that seemed to draw him out. So we went. I noticed that this black car was following us wherever we drove, might have been coincidence even though it looked vaguely familiar to me, like from a dream. I wonder if Mr. Slim can drive. Once there, we walked past a dog park and a memorial playground before starting down the trail. If my childhood hadn’t been tainted by repeated visions of this place then maybe I would have been able to admire its natural splendor a bit more because it was a very pretty trail. We made it to the trail tower, which was taller than the boardwalk tower but closed off for some reason. I was pretty relieved that we couldn’t climb it. I always
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envision falling and it freaks me out. We instead took a break at the picnic table beneath the tower. I had a turn with Noah’s camera to film around for a bit, but saw nothing. Even though the boardwalk was a mile away that whole area still exuded this threatening energy, there was no doubt that Slim was near. We continued on and Noah got a phone call from his dad. He handed me the camera and I swung it all around hoping to catch him. And then I did. Through a clearing in the trees, a figure in black peered down at us. My skin tingled violently at witnessing him and my fight or flight response had me running. I was thrilled, I felt like I had just shot the National Geographic photo of the year, and at the same time completely terrified as I was being subsequently chased by the subject of my shot. I felt him trail behind me as I ran, and I didn’t stop until I reached the car. Once I came to my senses, I realized that I had totally left Noah in the dust and that I was going to have to explain myself. Noah didn’t seem to have run after me and as the minutes passed I began to worry why he was taking so long and contemplating if I should go back in after him before it got too dark. Finally he made it back to the car and I just said that I wanted to go home. I expected him to be annoyed with me, but he expressed more of a concern than anything. What a guy.* The car ride back to the house was excruciatingly silent. Eventually he asked why I ran. I told him not to worry about me. We had a speechless dinner and I retreated back to Noah’s room
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where I am now writing this entry. I had a mini heart attack as he filmed me write. Who knows who Mom is keeping an eye on, who knows what’ll happen if she sees me writing in here on YouTube or something. I asked him if he was going to post our footage anywhere publicly and he said that this was only for his personal records, so I breathed a sigh of relief.** It was a brief relief however, because now that I have something legit on camera I must follow through with my prime objective, to present it to Noah. I only have one day left here to spill the beans to him. I’ve waited long enough. I’m still going to try and capture more footage of Mr. Slim, but tomorrow is the day that I tell Noah about him. Okay so just now before bed I took a look at my phone and found a bunch of pictures timestamped from Saturday night. There are six new photos. Three of them are unintelligible, the other three undoubtedly show Mr. Slim. They’re still very blurry, but he’s clearly front and center in the images. I guess I took them that night. Even more evidence to show Noah. I’m still unsure how exactly I’m going to give him this insane sounding talk, but the longer I hold off on doing it, the harder it’s going to be and the harder he’s going to take it. But it must be done. Tomorrow.

*i actually remember walking back to the car being fairly annoyed at him for acting so bizarrely, not understanding why he was inexplicably running. but as the context deepens, it hurts even more knowing what he was going through on his own. it seems like we all end up running from him. we’re all driven by that same fear. we’re all alone.

**circumstances have since changed, so i'm sure he would understand.