Sunday, October 30, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Alex, it’s like this.
I left home.
I walked into the woods and I just kept walking. I heard Dave’s voice calling my name, just like he did at graduation. I heard my mother saying goodbye. And I heard my father behind me, swearing and yelling.
I fell in a clearing and hit my head. When I looked up, it was standing in front of me. Standing taller than the trees, with a thousand outstretched arms. And then it reached out, delicately, and slid one long finger into my forehead. It hurt like nothing you can imagine, like a fucking nuclear bomb went off in my head.
And then I was somewhere else.
I don’t remember the camera much. I know I must have used it, but it doesn’t feel like I did. More like I was watching someone else do it. In hindsight, I think I had lost control of my body. I think it was using me like a fucking puppet. I think it’s been using me for years.
It used to scare me, losing control. Now I can’t wait to lose myself for good. I want to fall into the water’s cold embrace and never come back to the surface.
I’ve been looking for God, Alex. And that’s what I did on my journey. I looked for God among the lakes and the statues and the Joshua trees. All I found was that fucking abomination.
They tried to help me. My father followed me as closely as he could, and it even let him come close a couple of times. But it was just toying with him. In the end it took him, just like it’s taken William. George tried to stop it, tried to tear at the arms, but he was just one cat. What could he do?
I miss George sometimes more than I miss any of them. I just want to be able to hold my fucking cat again, man.
Sorry, I need to finish this.
In the end, it brought us back. Me, and the monster wearing my father’s skin. And then it left me there, alone. As it drew back into the forest I swear to God I heard it laughing.
I dealt with the beatings okay. I kept telling all the lies he wanted me to tell. Once I got out of the house when he was sleeping and ran down the street, but I just kept coming back to our front door no matter what. Like a fucking magnet.
He burned my Bible and threatened to kill me the one time he caught me praying. He wanted me to think he was Satan, I think. He wasn’t. Once I realized that, things got a lot easier. It wasn’t hard to figure out what to do.
I took a hammer from the garage and bashed his fucking skull in.
I’m leaving tonight, if I can. I’ve seen William at the edge of the forest, smoking his cigarettes and smiling. I’m going to go to him. Maybe he can take care of me, like he used to. Or maybe he can kill me. Either would be nice.
I’m sorry about all the lies, Alex. You’re the best friend I ever had and you fucking deserved better. Delete this blog. Move out of state, take Rachel with you. Forget the names of the dead and forget Lamb’s Grove. It’s the best thing you can do.
Oh, I almost forgot. I left your camera in a safe place. I was going to smash it, but it’s yours. Sorry about stealing it.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
Monday, September 5, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
okay, so, ill just start at the beginning i guess. john slept over my house last night. it was totally chill, he seemed fine, happier than hes been in a long time. we passed out watching the big lebowski, and when i woke up john was gone and so was my videocamera. i tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. no one picked up at his house, either, which is weird because his dad is always home.
i went over kind of pissed off because, yknow, he stole my fucking camera. but no one was there. i looked in all the windows and rang all the doorbells and knocked on all the doors. johns jeep is still in the driveway and his dads truck is still in the garage.
somethings not right. i dont know what the hell is going on but something is very wrong. id call the cops but that might just get john in more trouble. i called rachel and she hasnt heard from him. i dont know what the fuck to do.
shit, i was just looking on here and noticed a post from last night. "come with me"? what the hell does that mean?
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Friday, July 8, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
On the wall I could see my shadow. And then I'd see another shadow like there was someone there with me, but I'd turn around and the room would be empty. I'm still not sure if I was alone or not.
I haven't slept. I can't stand being in the darkness or closing my eyes. I always know there's something there.
I've been seeing him.
Never clearly. At the edge of my sight, a glimpse in the mirror, in between blinks. Sometimes I'll see him just as he takes a step out of sight, or his hand will be up as if he were about to wave.
He's a fucking monster. Some kind of abomination, I don't know. Dad won't listen to me. Keeps saying I need new medication.
I don't need pills, I need a crucifix. Or my gun back.
And someone else has this password, apparently. I don't know how they found that burned letter or why they put it up here, but it is in my handwriting. I vaguely remember writing it. I definitely remember going to that building with my mother.
I don't like the other shit they're putting up, either.
Coffee makes me nervous, so I've been drinking a lot of tea. The other day I tripped leaving the kitchen and my mug smashed on the floor. The gunk from the bottom of the cup formed this huge mucky puddle, so I went to get paper towels. When I came back to it a second later, there were markings in it.
I would've assumed my cat had just stepped in it, if the cat wasn't still missing. Or even still a cat anymore.
Kind of went through my Waite House journal with Alex an hour ago. I found something carved into the back of it that I don't think Alex noticed. It makes me want to stop trying to figure out what happened on the island.
Anyway, I gave Alex the comp book and told him to do whatever he wants with it. I figure he'll either burn it or scan the pages.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
I didn't feel like staying home, though. My dad was at work and I had twenty dollars in my wallet, so I decided to walk into town. We live a few miles from anywhere I could buy anything, but I had time to kill, and I really wanted cigarettes even though my throat feels like someone went at it with barbed wire. This asthma is going to kill me someday.
To get to the road into town I have to go by this collapsed garage. Well, I suppose I could avoid it if I went through the dump, but fuck that. Anyway, I hate walking by there. It got totally wrecked during the tornadoes. Even thinking about that day makes me sick to my stomach, almost as bad as graduation.
Okay, okay, I'm stalling. The walk into town was uneventful, beyond the normal paranoid feeling I have when I'm on my own lately. The important part of today was, well, her.
I almost started crying when I saw her behind the counter. I hadn't seen her since graduation, I felt like someone had totally yanked the rug out from under me. And then I saw the dark circles under her eyes, and everything just came at me at once.
I remembered watching her boyfriend die.
I remembered putting my hand on her waist while we danced. Where was he then? Still there? Or was he already gone? Already cut open? Already sewn shut?
Kissing her in her car. Brushing my fingers across her bare knee.
David's mouth pressed tight, grey pus pooling on his chin.
Her lips were so cold.
I walked in. She didn't get angry, like I expected. Just serious. I said her name. I was crying, it was all I could say. I expected her to kill me, after everything Alex told me. But she didn't. She looked at me and she started crying too. I will never forget a word she said.
"John, you didn't do it, did you?"
I just shook.
"I didn't. I didn't know, I was angry. But now that I see you, oh God I'm so sorry John."
Then she came out from around the counter and we hugged. No one even looked at us funny. One death hits hard in a small town. She cried into my chest for my awhile and I told her I'd call her when I got home, but I know I won't. Not yet.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
It was a good day. I know this is unmanly to say, but I love Alex. I guess he's been reading everything I put up here for awhile now and he's been wringing his hands and making phone calls. He's a good friend.
Anyway, we mainly played Super Smash Bros. I'm not sure why, but that's one way I tend to communicate when I'm upset. While I was Falcon punching my way to victory, I told Alex about my week in Waite House, mostly about the poetry and staff. I left out the scary apocalyptic stuff. We took a break from the N64 to look through the journal they'd given me.
There's only three or four actual journal entries. The rest of it consists of poems and fragments. There's a lot in here I don't remember writing. Alex was fascinated by it. He offered to let me use the studio in his basement to record some spoken word. I think I might do that. We had a mini poetry slam and I read some of my work out loud and it just felt great. My dad didn't seem to like it, but he can go fuck himself. It makes me feel better, like I'm getting poison out of the wound.
Alex says I should put some of what I wrote on the blog. I'm not sure I'm ready to yet. Some of it is weird, and all of it is personal. I did record one poem on my camcorder, but I don't even know how to upload it.
The poems I'll probably put up or record somehow. The journal... I don't know. I don't know how much of it was hallucination and how much of it actually happened. Maybe it might help to get a fresh perspective on it, but it might be even better to just fucking forget about it.
I do know how to work the scanner.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
your friends miss you. and they want answers.
i hope you actually see this man.
also, change your fuckin password.