Archive for June, 2011

Long shadows

i remember walking at sunset, holding hands, our shadows stretching out before us long and thin and strange. the light was red and golden, and trees around us cast their filigree of gray. shadows stick to your feet, follow you wherever you go.

i remember telling stories, when the lights were off and the darkness hid us, wrapped up in our beds with nothing but our voices. the moon outside the window was full and white and perfectly round. i told you everything would be okay.

i remember two of us, three of us, four, five. i remember fights, pulling hair and rolling in the dirt. i remember sticky hugs and tearful good-byes. i remember you and me and us.

long shadows stretching out before us. long shadows, black on the pavement, inky and depthless and dark. long shadows of us, us, us made strange and strange, but we thought they were familiar.

i remember screams. i remember broken tree branches thudding to the ground. i remember blood.

long, long shadows stretch across my mind. they twine in my memories, wrap around my heart. i will not fight them, though they are chains of a kind. they are all i have, my long, long shadows.

i will not give them up.


Then again, maybe not.

When my fingers are shaking I type my email address as “takeaddle.” Sort of appropriate.

Still don’t understand her.

Test 4

Audio difficulties

I’m recording for a few hours every night, now, hoping to catch something. Nothing new yet besides the clip I posted the other day. It’s frustrating, though, because I keep having to record for half an hour or so, then listen to it to see if there’s anything on it. I still don’t hear anything audible. Anyone know an audio program that will give me a visual as I record so if something happens I can see it and hopefully respond? Freeware would be nice.

If no one has any ideas, I’ll probably end up googling around for something. Thanks in advance.

Test 1

I’m sorry, Fiona. I realized that it’s not just myself I need to protect. I have a family now. I can’t let the infection spread. I have to do what I can to fight it, whether cutting off a gangrenous leg or listening to ghosts.

Thank you to everyone who wrote encouraging notes. You’re right. I have to be afraid. But I also have to act. So here I am, grabbing my courage with both hands.

It worked. I don’t know if I’m sorry or glad. Mostly right now I’m just freaked out. She’s talking to me, but I’m not sure what she’s saying.

I left my microphone recording for about half an hour before checking the sound. After the burst of static, the ghost voice doesn’t speak again. I trimmed the recording after a minute or so, because there’s nothing else to hear. The little snuffly noises you hear toward the end of this clip are Baxter inspecting the mic.

Test 1

Today was the last day of school. I think some of my schoolmates are having parties. They couldn’t feel farther away. Just around the block, yet more distant than the pale, open face of the moon.

Sound of silence

I’m such a coward.

On my last post, a commenter suggested that I try recording in my room without speaking to see if the microphone will pick up something my ears can’t. It’s an excellent idea and I said I would do it. I haven’t.

I’ve been busy, yes. Saturday was a family picnic, enjoyable but hot and sticky. There was “no time” to make a recording.

On Sunday, Katelyn wanted to play card games with me. She’s never asked me to do something with her before, and it was really nice. Fun. I “forgot” to make a recording.

Monday was school, almost over, very busy. That night I was “too tired” to make a recording.

Now it’s Tuesday and I just have to admit that I’m scared. Maybe I don’t want to hear what this ephemeral voice has to say. Maybe it will change things. Maybe I’ll start being terrified again of every shadow, every stranger, every tree branch, every silent moment in a crowded room. …Not that I ever totally stopped. Maybe I won’t be able to do anything to change anything, again. Maybe fate is inexorable. Maybe I’m crazy and this is all just in my head anyway, the voice, the face, all of you who read this and comment. Maybe everything everywhere is a figment of my imagination and none of it matters anyway. Maybe that would be the kindest truth of all.

I said some very brave, bold things in the last post, but you should all know by now that I am very small and very scared and very bad at this. At everything.

I’m sorry.


Eddie tried to convince me it was a game.

“They’re just people telling stories on the internet.”

He tried to show me sites. I wouldn’t look.

“It’s not real, Adele. Fiona probably isn’t even a real person. You don’t have to be scared anymore.”

He’s trying to keep me sane. It’s kind of him.

I didn’t want to touch a computer.

While all that was going on with Fiona, I looked at my account and saw the song that someone who isn’t me uploaded. Deeply unsettled but too busy to notice, I deleted it. Then I clicked away for a few minutes, looking for some other avenue to reach her. When I looked back, it had been uploaded again.

I only sign into that account on this computer. I was using it the whole time. No one else could have done it. I don’t remember doing it. Why would I do it anyway. Am I insane? Again? I have to believe that I would know. If I can’t believe that, I truly have gone mad.

If you exclude the impossible, you must consider the improbable. Someone is trying to warn me.

Fiona didn’t listen. She didn’t hear the warnings. She never wanted to, and now she’s gone. He took her. I won’t, I can’t, I will not make the same mistake. I will listen.

I’m trying so hard to listen. But I can’t hear anything. I lie here in the dark with my eyes wide open, staring at the empty ceiling, straining my ears, and I only hear the white rush of sound that is countless molecules of air beating against my eardrums. The roar and clamor of utter silence, drowning out everything else. How can I hear when the quiet is so loud?

I don’t know what to do. I wish I could sleep.