“I don't think I'll be able to write right soon. Hands are getting numb. Mind is getting foggy. They're calling for me. On the way home I was so focused on remembering to get some milk. I wasn't focusing on the road. It runs along the beach a few blocks from my house. The black thing was just laying there. That thing with blood red eyes...hundreds of them. Car stalled slightly as the thing slipped underneath the car. I stopped immediately, even though I had no idea what I had hit. It kept writhing as I approached it. The tentacles that had torn off were flopping around. And in my head, but not in my head I kept hearing its voice.
“They are only starting to move. It only get's worse from here.”
I had pulled it off the road. I don't think I was thinking clearly. Said it wasn't going to hurt me. That it just wanted to get back to the shallows. It is legion. It must endure. I still don't know how I moved it, considering its size...it said that I shouldn't go home. That was the last thing it said to me.
I sat in the driveway a little bit longer than I expected to. Just trying to get myself ready to face my family. Thirty seconds went by. Then a minute. I still didn't know what I was going to say. I didn't want to think about what I would say. Two minutes. I thought I saw someone move a curtain. They were wondering about me. Wanted to know why I was just sitting in the driveway. They were probably developing theories. But none of them are right. I am tired, but my heart is racing. What was I supposed to say? How could I tell them about my day. Should I have just lied and pretended that everything is alright.
She opened the door and heads down the walk. I heard myself gasp. She was outside my window. My daughter. She was asking me if everything was alright. But I didn't respond. I looked at her, and she smiled with a smile that was too wide for her face. Her skin seeped like oil, her eyes now cold black orbs, her pretty pink dress covered in black. For some reason I though about it all again. About the thing I hit on the way home. How it screamed. How it kept telling me that this was only the start of something terrible.
I looked towards the house. My wife, the thing that has the shape of my wife was waiting for me inside. It's all wrong, but I have nowhere left to go. This is the end of everything. I opened the door and stepped out, hesitating before I took my daughter's hand. It burns where it touches, and hand in hand we head towards the house. The thing sweetly welcomed me home as I stepped inside the house. My wife never welcomed me like that. My arm is going numb. They know. They know I have nowhere else to go. I don't feel my hand anymore. I'm looking down, and I see black.
I told them I needed to go in my study for a bit. I needed to write something down. I think I'm going to sleep for a bit.”
A body was found along the train tracks. He had steel rebar running through his skin and joints. Held him up in a standing position and planted him to the ground. Heard that he died of exposure. Had been out there for almost three days. Three days and no one had noticed, or had cared to report it. I imagine the second option was more likely true. People don't report things around here. He worked at a nearby train yard. Junker and such. I can't imagine what sort of trouble he got himself into. Whatever it was, I doubt he earned what happened to him. His name was David. He was 55. Closed casket.
She is mostly back to her old self. Margaret I mean. Aside from her looks. I have gotten used to her new skin, and she has managed to adjust to the new tongue. At this point I hardly notice a difference in her voice. She is smiling more, but some days she gets really sad. She thinks that I see her differently. That things aren't like they used to be. I would be lying if I said it wasn't an adjustment. But all I care about is that we have made it work. We are back together. And things are different. But that isn't necessarily a bad thing.
I decided to ask the police about the new note. Didn't want to get involved but better safe then sorry. They said that it had been abandoned, that someone had trashed the place. Burned the carpet and the tub especially. Not exactly sure how the hell they did that. Anyway, not my problem. I don't care how many notes get thrown at me. I have my own problems. If this street is falling apart I could care less. Just so long as it doesn't bother mine.
My cat Loyd's little excursions at night have been getting longer. Bought him a leash the other day. I know it's weird but I just need to burn off some energy so he won't wander so damn much. I don't want him bringing me any more dead bits to the door. Seems to have become really attached to Margaret which is good. Was what I intended. Kinda quiet. But that's fine. After a long night in the restaurant its exactly what I am looking for. Nice and quiet.
Therapist seems really encouraged by my progress. Not as many nightmares, though I have been bringing Margaret. She could use someone to talk to who can help. Brought her home flowers today. She was thrilled. Got them whole. She hates it when people cut apart flowers. Planted them in the front. Hope the temperature doesn't drop off. Was a little muggy today. Saw a homeless woman digging through my garbage. Told her to get the hell off my property. When she didn't I called the cops on her. Didn't try to get away.
She looked sad.