“What do you think? Should I subscribe to the repeating-word guy?
“I don’t really know why I’m talking to you.
“I think I’m hearing you say something but I can’t really tell. It kind of feels like I’m just talking to myself, all these thoughts. Makes me feel a little insane. I guess that’s kind of the point though.”
Could be one of the symptoms. I’m not really sure.
“Are you there?
“It’s okay; you don’t have to respond. I don’t really know why I’m even doing this. I don’t really know what you are, H. A demon, duh, but what’s a demon, really? There are speed demons and people called demons in video games and other sports, but they are just people who are insanely good at things.
“I’m curious, that’s the thing.
“I’m curious, even more so after today.
“It’s like I want to ask you questions and be the aggressive one, the one talking, but when I do, I’m not sure I’m talking to anyone.
“It’s like, it’s like… I’m talking to a wall sometimes.
“But then I can also sense that you’re near.
“What time is it?”
It’s almost three A.M.
I didn’t look at the clock on the desktop. I didn’t look at my phone. But I knew. I just knew — nearly three A.M. Then I look and it’s true. It’s 2:58 A.M.
Is this frightening or exciting?
What’s happening, I can’t help but let happen. I can’t turn away from it; I tried ignoring it and that didn’t work.
I look around the house, the mess.
“Oh, fuck this.
“You agree, right?
“Yeah. Yeah, exactly.
“I don’t want to be in this house right now. I want to be somewhere else. I’m not cleaning this shit up. No. I’m not.
“I think the only choice I have is to go for a drive.”
And it’s just like that — it seems right to leave.
I leave the laptop sitting there, a flicker of trust. I know that I’ve left the laptop there, just like I know that I am basically just talking to myself.
I won’t say that was something else.
But at the same time, it’s exciting that it could be.
When I pull out of the driveway, I don’t have anywhere in mind to go. I just go. I start driving down one street until I end up on another street. This late into the night, it’s pretty cool to pretend that I’m the last one alive. Or that I’m living in an alternate dimension where I can start and stop time and there’s nobody but me and my car, and whatever it is that I want in my life.
It’s fun to pretend it’s the end of the world.
I end up merging onto the interstate and I count how many semitrucks I see. It’s the wide-open road and I’m the one little dinky car sharing it with all the other semitrucks.
I don’t know where I’m going until I take the exit.
That exit.
I make a right at the first light.
Another right at the second stoplight.
It’s like I knew where I’d be going but kept it from myself, until I’m driving fast down that completely pitch-black back road.
They really need to repave the road.
The asphalt is chipped and really hard on the tires. But that doesn’t get me to slow down. This drive is mine, and it’s all about the speed and night air brushing past my face.
When I get there, I drive down that dirt road because I don’t want anyone to see my car. No one’s going to see my car, but still, I don’t want my car to be seen.
It’s funny how I can just pretend like I don’t already know what I’m doing. It’s really funny how I can just stay in the moment, thinking, “This is happening,” and pretend like I’m not actually heading over there, pulling the car into park, shutting off the engine, sitting in the dark, listening as I say, “Here we are.”
I said it but I stay in the car for a long time.
Guess it’s because normally this would be kind of freaky, in the middle of the forest, dead end of night, and after all the stuff I know can go wrong, I’m still here. By myself.
A rush of ideas comes to mind.
I’m thinking a family of serial killers about to attack me.
I’m thinking a big-ass feral St. Bernard with rabies about to make it so that I’m stranded in this car for days, weeks, starving to death.
I’m thinking of all kinds of stuff that I’m pretending I didn’t see in movies. But no, that’s also all just padding, stuff I have fun thinking about, before I make that long walk that’s really not that long.
It’s just for effect.
Yeah, I’m on that long walk…
It’s actually not as quiet as you’d think, being out here at night. You hear all kinds of noises — bugs, animals, the wind blowing stuff around — and that really does help.
For a while, I don’t use the flashlight on my phone.
I just walk the path I’ve walked so many times, in complete darkness.
If, like, Blaire were here, she’d be impressed. Becca, she wouldn’t care. She’s already created some image of me in her mind.
Around the time the path opens up into a big field, I start shining the flashlight around. I step on empty cans and other junk — guess there was a party here recently.
I listen for people’s voices but I don’t hear anything.
It’s an interesting image, thinking that someone’s nearby, maybe passed out drunk and sleeping under the stars, and here I am, the definition of late to the party.
I keep on walking.
Soon it’s back to a narrow dirt path.
Past that, it’s pure forest.
This is where it’s tricky, but somehow I know where I’m going.
When I get there, I shine the light up at the crown, staring at the tunnel. I stand at the opening, tuning in to the noises surrounding Falter Kingdom.
I don’t hear anything.
The moon hides behind clouds, making it hard to even see the ground at my feet. I sit down cross-legged at the opening of the tunnel.
I stare into the darkness.
I say that I don’t know why I’m here but it’s a lie.
I’ve been holding it back until it’s appropriate to just say it.
And that moment’s right now: I’m here to see you.
I’m curious. I want to see what you look like, H. And I mean really what you look like. I figure this is the place where it’s most possible, the place where we first met. I don’t know a whole lot about how this works, how energy is used and transferred and stuff, but I figure if it’s near a weak spot where demons can and will exist, then this is where I might see you.
I’m right here, H.
“I’m right here,” I say aloud.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Listen to the quiet.
I have to be patient.
I have to calm down my nerves. I’m shaking. I’ve been trying to focus on other things to avoid the fact that my heart is beating so hard it’s like it’s coming out of my chest. This isn’t easy for me. I have to believe that I’m here for a reason. It’s the only way I’ll be able to calm myself down.
And I’ll wait.
H, I’m right here.
I’ll say hi first.
“Hey.”
I wait — wait for some kind of noise.
I sit here, back straight, staring into the void, trying to remain focused on what I see — which is nothing — but my mind quickly goes to different things. The word “void” is one thing. Is it really the right word to use in this situation? I’ve always liked the word “void.” It has this eerie kind of connotation. I hope I’m using the word “connotation” right. I think I am, but I can easily doubt myself the more I think about things.
I look up at the stars. You can’t really see them so easily from back home. But out here, you can see every single one. Some of them twinkle. More than a few just stay there, all bold.