by PW Caton
Prologue:
There was no escape from these images, no where to escape the sight without sound. I have always wished I could make everything go away. Find an end to this madness. Now I am left wondering, if there is ever an end to anything.
There are times I where I just close my eyes. But, I can't. The doctor says that is all I have to do, close my eyes, but when I try, I can still see her stirring, underneath some rock, underneath some murky water, somewhere, waiting to be found.
We are always waiting for something.
Even me.
Sometimes I hold my hands over my eyes and start yelling. Somehow I hope this will help. Sometimes, I think my voice drowns out the noise. Not only do I see her, hear her; also do I feel her. The wetness on her skin. The blood in her eyes. Her lips look so alive, even now. Even as I see her throat slit, her clothes torn. Sometimes I stare right into her soul.
There is just so much I don't understand.
The doctor says the police can only assume that she is missing, still alive somewhere, even though I know she is not. Maybe that is why they keep me and Jimmy in this place, in this...place.
I must be quiet because I know they can hear my thoughts. They can hear everything I do. Even when the doctor is away.
They can even see me when I am dreaming.
I want to call this place a prison. They say it is not a prison but I know it is. Now I am in trouble. At least, when he comes back I am. They will always hear me.
There is silence all around me, outside. Inside, all I hear are screams. The shrieks of that poor girl. The doctor says the police are searching still. Searching for a body. Evidence. Anything.
If they do find a body, some remains, a finger left behind, then they could, convict us I mean. Even though we didn't do it. I am sure we didn't.
I didn't even really know her. I..Jimmy, we couldn't do anything like that, we couldn't cut her like that, make her beg us to keep her alive. I see her begging someone for her life. We.. I.. couldn't..
"GO AWAY"
The screaming has started again. There isn't anything I can do, except pray that it will all end, soon.
Transition:
I remember how the wind felt on my face; how the snow feels when it first hits. It's shocking, yet refreshing to know Christmas is almost here, that we have a reprieve from school, from the day to day operations of life. Coming home to your town after being gone for several months is a shock within itself. There are new buildings, new houses, new faces; it makes you feel lost, foreign, as if this is not your town. Jimmy and I go to the same school out East, so it is nice that we can travel with someone, instead of just starring off into space on that long train ride home, you have someone to talk to. Jimmy and I weren't the best of friends in high school, but since college, we really get along. We are both majoring in the same field, and have a lot of the same classes together. At least we have someone to talk to on the train ride home.
The people from high school who stay behind seem like they don't change. They keep the same jobs, hang out at the same bars, keep the same hair. No one changes, maybe I haven't either, internally, I feel different, but I guess I am the same. Our first night home, we decide to go out to the bars. It's kind of a ritual, to see old girl friends, to stir up lost romance. Seeing as how we are leaving in a few weeks, it is nice just to have the feeling of no commitment, no ties, we can do what we want and get the hell out. Sort of like a bombing raid, I suppose, we can just drop them and fly away.
The bar we all used to hang out in high school was called GT's bar and grill, and although we never used to serve us beer back in high school (we just used to go there and eat) GT doesn't mind serving us now. Bars have a weird ambiance, the lights are dim and the smoke is thick, it looks like a jungle, some Amazon forest ripe with women who don't care what you look like, and can't remember your name when it is over. In the jungle there is no law, I suppose, and a man can have any woman he wants, all he has to do is hook her in with some line, with some smooth line. I don't really have any great lines, my hair seems to be my hook, chics love it. Jimmy, on the other hand, has a great system all worked out; he can come on to any girl he wants, with any line he wants and score in the process. Girls think he looks like Keanu Reeves or something. He even acts like him, to give them the "whole effect" but when he is with me, I know who he really is.
It was at the bar I first saw her, I first saw her body lying on some kind of primeval cutting board, hacked up, bloody, twisted, gnarled, looking like a rag doll soaked in feces. At first, I thought it was the alcohol going to my head, but when I sobered up, the next day and the images kept coming, I knew that there was something wrong.
That night at the bar, I met a girl. Just some lonely girl looking for a man. I guess I was looking for a woman. She was in her mid-twenties, tall, blonde, skinny yet ripe. To be honest, I didn't remember her name the next morning, but since she turned up missing, and me and Jimmy wound up in here, I can't get it out of my head.
When you are drunk, a little on edge, you will do most anything, even things you don't normally do or think about. Maybe they think that is what happened: I snapped, Jimmy snapped, we let out some kind of medieval emotion and turned this girl inside out, literally, skewering her flesh, raping her flesh, torturing her soul. But they can't find her body, so they keep us in here.
This girl at the bar, she was alone, sort of scared, but she still exerted
some kind of profane confidence that most girls only dream of. As I look back,
I can see she knew what she was doing, she knew what guys liked, what I wanted,
and she used them to her advantage, she used me like a puppet. I didn't mind,
being drunk, maybe that was what I was here for, at the bar, to get used, or to
use someone else. Jimmy found this other girl, and the four of us, Jimmy, me,
Mary and Janelle decided to go back to Janelle's place. She lived alone,
somewhere, I can't remember. A lot of my memories are gone about that night,
they don't exist. They even got a hypnotist in here, to see if he could pry the
memories lose, but when I woke all he could say was 'there gone, they have been
erased." Erased? What did that mean, memories aren't like chalk, they just
don't get erased, even if you can't remember something, they are still there.
But the hypnotist's face looked white when he said this, 'erased', as if he had
seen a ghost. I never saw him again.
Construction:
"Tell me about that night" "What you can remember, the events..."
"All I remember doc is that me and Jimmy went to this bar, we went there to see old friends, to get drunk, maybe even get laid." "I remember this girl, this really beautiful girl, we went to this house..we must have done it, but when I woke up, she was gone." "Gone."
"Did you wake up in the house?"
"No, that is the strange thing, I woke up back at home. I thought it might have been a dream, but they I saw the stamp on my hand, you know the one to show that you have paid the cover." "I was there, but still, it was like I wasn't."
"You can't remember the house, the road to the house, anything?"
"Listen doc, we have been over this a hundred times, I don't remember, I can't." I remember the car...a Jeep Cherokee, red, but I was really drunk, I tend to black out when I drink." "You should ask Jimmy, he can remember everything when he drinks, his mind is like a steel trap."
"Funny you should say that, Jimmy says the same thing about you."
"Me?" "What the hell is he thinking?" "Why would he say something like that?" "Can I talk to him, see him, listen doc, I need to see him."
"You know we can't allow that." "You two have seen enough of each other, too much perhaps. The police are afraid that if you get together with him, that you will corroborate your stories, make the two mesh." "You might end up fooling us all, they say."
"Fooling us all?" "You don't think I really did it, do you doc?"
PAUSE
"With all you told me son..
Overlapping
"Listen, I have told you everything I can remember, everything that there is to tell. You guys even had a hypnotist in here, do you think that I could really kill that girl.."
"....Son, we haven't even found a body yet, so we don't even know if there is foul play. That girl was known to be, how shall we say, promiscuous, so we don't know if she just ran off, or is lying in the bottom of some creek somewhere, like you say."
"Why would I tell you about the murder if I did it, if Jimmy did it..why?"
"Maybe you couldn't live with it, I don't know."
"Do you think we did it?"
"I am not here to judge son, I am not here to judge."
Reconstruction:
When we got to the bar, it was already crowded, and finding a seat, a table was impossible. We settled for stools by the bar, and said hello to GT who had shaved his beard and put on a few pounds. GT and I exchanged the usual amenities, but couldn't talk long because GT had to keep the place running. The night went on, the drinks kept piling up, one after another, and soon I couldn't even tell the time. My mind was swimming in beer, and whatever else Jimmy had given me to drink. The bar stool was riding up my ass, and the cigarette smoke became sickening.
That is when I started seeing the images, those frightful images I keep taking about. My head was ringing, and things were spinning, people looked like blurred silhouettes, but something came to me in my mind, these images that were stagnant and still, without sound, or without purpose. I could see this girl, woman maybe, lying on the floor, covered in mud, darkened, oily, the light glistened off it, making her body ghost like in appearance. As I said, at first I thought it was the alcohol, but the images became brighter, but still without a sound. My mind was like a camera, slowly moving onto this girl's face. At first, all I saw was this body, noticeably a woman's body, with breasts bulging from her like a sweltering heat. But my mind moved in, getting closer to this girl's face. I could tell she wasn't breathing, she was so still. The noise of the bar was still coming in, loud and obnoxious, but in my eyes, in my mind, all I could see was this girl, woman, lying on the ground, the light, the ambient light made her swollen body look blue, blue like the darkened ocean, the salt water at night filled with algae and the trash from the summer's day.
I tried to rub my eyes, to make it go away, but I couldn't, I couldn't stop these images from racing through my head. I went to the bathroom, to wash my face, splash cold water on my skin, but nothing helped. I sat on the cold porcelain toilet for a while, with my pants between my legs, I just sat on the toilet, hoping I wouldn't see these images anymore. Hoping this was just a dream.
Jimmy came looking for me after a while. I didn't know how long I had sat there, on the toilet, in this cold bathroom flooded with piss and booze.
"Hey, Max, where the hell are you man?"
"Here, I am here."
"You sound like shit...can you see with the lights off?"
Yes, yes I could..."Some asshole did that when I was on the pot, I couldn't get up while taking a shit, so I waited here for someone to rescue me!"
"You are fucked up man." "Listen, I met this girl, Janelle,
and she has got this house up by the, house up by the
I cannot hear.
Words only echo.
"Jesus, make it stop spinning.."
"Fucking getting a grip"
"You asshole, what the fuck...can I..do?"
At times, that's all I remember.
I got up, with a little help from Jimmy, and tried to stand up straight. After a while of standing, the images stopped, slowed down, ceased, and I could walk. I walked right out of the bathroom. The people had thinned in the bar, it must have been really late. That is when I met Mary, the girl, a woman. She had CK1 on, a lot of it, I could smell it from across the room. She had an awkward smile, and a lanky stare that seemed to peer right through me, into the bathroom, where I had been, what I had been unwillingly thinking. I was afraid she could see it too. I never had a chance to see the girls face, in those haunting images that is, I never did get close enough to see her face, her skin beneath another more filling light, all I saw was this twisted shape this innocuous mirage. Why had I seen this, what did it mean. I couldn't remember, the intoxication of Mary's perfume seemed to envelope me, like the snow does to fall, almost suffocating, inebriating every vestige of the hideous thoughts that still lingered in my mind.
We talked, for what again, seemed like hours.
Janelle didn't know Mary, or that is how I took it. We were all a little under, under whatever table alcohol puts you under, but I think I was the worse, I was the worse.
The bar was closing, and GT had gone home. I don't think I ever asked him, in all my years of knowing him, what GT stood for. Maybe I should, once I get out of here, once I can see daylight again. They keep me locked in the cell, a padded cell, with no light, no air really. I can hardly breathe. Someone slides a tray under my door, three times a day. I can't tell what time it is, so I think it is breakfast, lunch and dinner. I don't know though, they don't tell me what time it is. When I meet with the doctor, who I think is a Psychiatrist, these people take me to this room, which once had windows, but now seemed to be barred off, have some obstruction preventing any light from coming in. The doctor keeps asking me the same questions, over and over, and I tell him the same thing, over and over. I wonder if he thinks I will change my story, I wonder why he keeps asking me the same questions over and over. Over and over.
"I have been through this before."
"I know, son, I just want to hear it again."
It's as if I am singing this song that the doctor just loves, my explanations are a song that you just want to hear over and over again. You can hit repeat on a CD player, make the song play over and over again, but in conversation, I suppose, you just keep having to ask the same question, over and over again to hear the song or the part you like.
I guess we repeat the parts we like.
"Tell me again, son, tell me again."
I don't know where they are keeping Jimmy.
I can't hear him, or he can't hear me.
I have tried to scream, in all the darkness, try to see if someone will hear me, but no one can. At least, no one replies.
I may be going off on a tangent here, lost track of what I was talking
about. I wanted to tell you about that night, the night in question, that the
police kept asking about, asking me and Jimmy if we had seen them again. The
police kept coming around, kept analyzing the situation, writing and recording.
They thought that we were lying making it all up, I don't know. That is when
they brought us here, to this place, institution, or whatever they want to call
it. They call it 'a place of learning, a place where we will learn the
truth." I think it is an abandoned asylum or something, for I swear I can
see ghosts, in the darkness, I swear I can see the old inmates who didn't make
it out. It looked like a normal building from the outside, and even when we
first got here, it looked normal. We had normal rooms, we had normal food,
normal everything. Jimmy and I even got to see each other, in the rec room, at
dinner time, etc., but one night, one night, we had only been here two days,
they moved us, put something in our food, made us loose control, made us slip
off, sleep sounder, harder, faster than ever before. When I woke, I never saw
Jimmy again, never heard him speak or cry out. I only see darkness now, only
see black, my eyes have grown used to it. There is light, sometimes, it seeps
in from the cracks in the wall. I try to touch it, to see it is real, but it
soon leaves, as if they turn it off when I get too close, when they know that I
am near.
Destruction: Jimmy's tale
"You know you can't keep me here, without a lawyer, you know this is unconstitutional."
"Why would you think that James?"
"I have fucking rights man, I am a citizen of the USA, this is still America, isn't it? Fuck hey it is, I don't think you guys transported me to Iran. You may have slipped me a mother fucking mickey but I know what fucking country I am in."
"Are you sure James, are you sure you are in America? We could have taken you somewhere else. You could be in 'mother fucking' Iran."
"Fuck you man. Why don't you show yourself, why don't you turn the lights on. You are trying to fuck with my mind? It's not working, I am not letting you guys fuck with my mind. I am a goddamn psych major, I know what the hell you are trying to do. If this is some fucking joke, I will kill you all, I mean that, kill you."
"Hostile, aren't we James. Why would you want to kill me? Would you kill me like you did Mary, Janelle? Would you kill me like them?"
"I didn't kill anyone, besides you haven't found the goddamn bodies, if there are bodies, those sluts are probably off fucking someone else right now. Those bitches are alive I tell you, fuck what I said before, those bitches are alive."
"James. James? What do you take me for, an idiot? You told the police that you were having thoughts, thoughts about dead bodies, about corpses lying in the mud, inflated my decay, lying under the water. You said that you saw the girls bodies, didn't you James, you said that you saw them murdered, killed, rapped, skinned, didn't you James? So, why are you telling me they are alive now, are you trying to protect someone, perhaps your friend Maximillian? You know, he doesn't care about you. He is right now, telling my colleague, that you did it, that you talked him into it, killing those girls, and that he could keep his guilt inside any more. It was him who first came to the police now wasn't it. You didn't even want to go. Yes, I have it right here in my report, it says that you didn't even want to go. Now, that sounds like a guilty person to me: someone who is afraid that the police will find out too much. You came up with the whole scheme to tell the police about the dreams, the nightmares, it was your idea because you thought if you told them that you had these premonitions about the murder, that when the police actually found the bodies, you and your dubious accomplish would get off scot free. Didn't you James? James."
"No, no, you have it all wrong. Max had the dreams first, I didn't get them until later. You are fucking with the truth. Max and I went separately to the police, we went separately. I couldn't take it, I couldn't take seeing those girls bodies any more, neither could he. Hell, I couldn't even believe that we were both having the same thoughts, the same dreams. That just doesn't happen, that doesn't happen. Listen doctor, if you are a doctor, you've got to believe me, I didn't kill those girls, hell, we met them one night, one night. I don't even remember if I fucked them. That's how screwed up this whole thing really is. I mean, I always remember pussy, no matter how bad it is, but this time, this time, I can't remember a thing."
"That's fine James. You just think about things for a while. I have somewhere else I have to be."
"Fucking cocksucker, coming and going as he fucking pleases. WHEN I GET OUTTA HERE...I'll, I'll...what's the fucking point."
If I could only talk to Max. I have to straighten everything out.
Coming home for the holidays is never my idea of fun. My parents are always parading me around to all my relatives. "Look at our son, he is going to be a doctor some day..some day." I just didn't want to hear that anymore. I am glad that Max and I go to the same school, out East, NYU, we are both Psych majors, he wants to goto graduate school, me I want to goto medical school. He doesn't get all that preening with his parents. Maybe I should change my major.
This bar, well it really isn't a bar, or you don't think of it as a bar in high school, is just a cool place to hang out. In high school, I imagined it as the 'Hop' or what a 'hop' might look like back in the fifties. Everyone went rushing there after school to eat fries and play the latest video games. The kids from the other school, in another town also came there. The town I live in, its name doesn't matter, it small. Well small when compared to somewhere like New York. My town is really an amalgamation of two smaller towns, each wants to retain its own autonomy, but the city councils want to annex the two together so they can have higher taxes. Of course that isn't what they tell you, but it is something that is always there. Each town has its own high school, and we have developed a kind of sibling rivalry between the two, if you know what I mean. There have always been these subtle under-currents, these unwritten laws between our towns. I liken us to ancient tribes who were always warring, but also wanted eternal peace. It is ironic to think that these two things prevailed in our communities, being as directly opposite as they are.
In high school, it was taboo to even talk to the other kids from the other schools. But they always had the best looking cheerleaders. Dating one was even more frowned upon, and if you did, it was like West Side Story or something, for the towns got in an uproar. Now, coming home from college, all that seems trivial, when at the time, it was your whole world.
GT's is on the very outskirts of town, and during the day, the place is packed with teenagers, at night, twenty something adults. I used to come in the day time, but now I only come here at night. Darkness has a way of getting to you, especially when you haven't seen light in weeks, or maybe months, I don't really now how long I have been in this place. When I have my sessions with the guy who calls himself a 'shrink' I try to ask him what time it is, or how long I have been here. Maybe I even ask him about Max, but I am afraid of what they are doing to him for I know what they are doing to me. My shrink doesn't answer, and the silence gets to me. No light, no sound, your senses are all you have, all you have left once they have stripped you of your dignity.
My shrink always wants me to talk about the past, one night in particular, the night we came home from college. Christmas break. He wants to know what I did, where we went, who we saw. I tell him the same thing each time, but he doesn't believe me.
"So you're back?"
"James, James, James. You are only fooling yourself. This is not the truth is it. You know what is, don't you. Your parents did teach you about the truth, when you were little, didn't they. You know that lying will only keep you in here longer, it will only keep you in here longer. Your friend Max had told us everything, he is already gone. Wouldn't you like to be with him? Going back to school, back to a normal life? James? James."
"Listen man, I have told you all I remember about that night. We went to a bar, to look for girls, to have some fun. We met these girls, and we went back to their house, house, house. Their house up by the lake. You know that house by the lake don't you. The one no one has lived in for years."
"James, again, you take me for a fool. No one lives in that house, you know that. No one wants to live in that house after what happened in it all those years ago, all those years ago."
Of course, I knew what he was talking about. Everyone did. This house, up by the lake is where these grizzly murders happened, about fifty years ago. Back in 1920 or something. Every kid growing up has heard of some ghost story, about some kind of weird thing that happened in their town. In our town, in our towns, this house, which sort of divides our two towns, this guy supposedly killed women, a lot of women. Like a States side Jack the Ripper or something. I remember hearing about it when I was six or so. Max, in fact, told me in my tree house about "The man above the lake" (he had heard about it from his older sister). What Max described was so graphic in every detail, so precise in every way, I thought he must have seen the murders first hand, that he must have witness this bloody encounter. I asked my mom about it, when I was six, and she laughed, explaining that the reason no one bought that house was because of the dispute over the annexation. The towns had frozen the sale of the house pending the annexation, and not because of some gruesome murders. 'The house rests on the border of our two towns' she said 'and if someone were to buy it, then which ever town gets total control of the land might want to put something else there, and would have to kick them out.' I asked my father that night, about the house, and he gave me another answer 'Son, that land belongs to a rich business man in LA, he is thinking about turning it into a hotel, into some kind of resort. It is just what this town needs, a tourists attraction to get some big business in here. We could be sitting on some valuable land son.
'Now, I don't want to hear any more nonsense about ghosts and goblins, go do your homework.'
But as a child, I didn't believe her, him nor did I care about the legalities of our two towns, all I knew was that house was haunted, haunted. Parents always have some come back when kids tell them they have seen a ghost or monster in their closet. I used to think that no grown person believes in ghosts, monsters, or shadows that creep in the night. But, now, I am grown, and I still believe in monsters. So, what does that make me? A grown child perhaps, maybe I am not grown at all. I remember going by the house, when I was six, and seeing a 'for sale sign' in the front lawn. I thought, if there is something going to happen to this property, then why is the sign there. Max said my parents were full of crap and his older sister knew what she was talking about. I still believe her, I still believe her.
"So tell me James, why would you go to a house, which you knew was haunted, which you knew was off limits to everyone. You were trespassing there, don't you know. We could book you for trespassing."
"Book me then. Write me a fucking ticket. Just get me out of here, turn on the fucking lights!! I can't see a goddamn thing."
"Sorry James, I can't do that. If you were to tell me the truth, then I could help you, perhaps, even turn on the lights."
"I did tell you the truth, I did, I have."
"Well, let's start over, let's go through it again."
"How many times...
"James, just tell me what happened, again. For the record, okay?"
"...fine."
So, I went into the bathroom to find Max, he had been in there for about an hour. When I got in there, all the lights had been shut off but I as the door opened, it let in enough light so that I could see a pair of legs in a stall. I called out, hey Max, Max you in here? I didn't hear a reply, I flicked the lights a couple times, to see if he had passed out or something. Finally he called out something, something intelligible. I knew he was really drunk then.
"Listen, Max, you got to sober up man, there are these two girls outside. I don't think they know each other, but they say they are friends. Who cares if they are lying though, they are ready and willing, and man are they hot."
"Hot?? hot, I am hot man, something is really wrong here, I came in here to use the bathroom but I am in the kitchen."
"You are fucked up. Shit. Come on, let's get you sobered up, a little water on your face will wake you up."
"Water, there is water everywhere Jimmy, only I don't think it is water. Maybe blood, I keep seeing this girl lying on the floor, her body is all cut up. I think we should call the cops."
"Body? What? What the hell are you talking about man. We are in GT's bathroom, and you are severely drunk. Snap out of it, man because there are these two girls outside who really want us, they are waiting and I don't think they will wait long."
"GT's? Fuck man, what am I thinking. I can't think straight. I must have passed out or something. I was like dreaming about..about..shit, now I can't remember. What the hell was I saying anyway?"
"Forget it man, you get the blonde, her name is Mary, Mary, Mary...."
We got in their car, a red Jeep Cherokee and drove off. They said that we could come back for our car later, this wouldn't take long. Hell, I was a little too drunk to drive right now anyway. So, I didn't mind leaving my car behind. Janelle drove us to the house on the lake, and I remember asking her,
"You live here? I thought no one could live here?"
In a whispered voice: "My parents and I just moved in, they are on vacation. Mary likes to come here when she is lonely, don't you Mary."
The funny thing about this evening, the thing that sticks in my mind is that Mary never said a word. She smiled, she looked like she was talking, but I never heard a word.
"That is all I remember. Honest. That is all I remember."
"Come on James, you had two beautiful women, all to yourself, and you can't remember a thing? Why don't you tell me what happened, really, tell me, I am only here to help."
"You have been saying that, saying that everyday..."
"Day?"
"..yes, fucking days you have been saying that shit, you aren't helping me. I am telling you everything I know, everything I can remember."
"I have it here, here in my report, that Max confided to my colleague that you and he lured these two girls to take them to the lake house, that you got angry when they wouldn't put out, that you..."
"Fine, fine, I do remember something else.."
"Yes.."
"..I remember them asking me to take off my clothes, I remember there were no lights, I remember fucking them, fucking them both, while Max lay on the floor. He had passed out. I fucked them, but I didn't make them take off their clothes, I didn't force them to do anything. They tempted me, they pulled at my clothes, they said they liked it rough. Hell, I don't think they even knew each other."
"What makes you say that James, Janelle Levort is Mary Muldory's next door neighbor. They have lived next door to each other for sixteen years."
"That, that doesn't make sense, they girls, the ones I am talking about weren't sixteen, and no fucking way neighbors. No way were they sixteen. I mean, these girls knew how to move, what guys like, no sixteen year old knows that kind of stuff, not at least any sixteen year old I know."
"Well James, they are, they are, or should I say, were sixteen, once, but you saw to it that they would never see another birthday, that their parents would spend night after night combing the streets looking for their daughters, and when you and your friend finally came forward, with your concocted truth, the police knew that they had met with foul play, they knew something had happened."
"What are you talking about man, I told the police that I had seen these images, that I er we had seen these images of two girls dead. I told the police that I was afraid that something might happen to them. I didn't know that they were missing. It wasn't in the papers, it wasn't on TV, so how would I know, how would I know..."
"Unless you killed them."
"...no, no. I can't explain how the images came to me, they just did. It was like some pervasive dream, they kept coming and coming. I couldn't keep up with them, shit man, I could feel these girls screaming, but I couldn't hear a fucking thing, the images only let me see, not hear, not smell, not taste, only fucking see. I could see a hand coming out of the shadows strangling her, them, both of them. He rapped one, I never could see their faces..."
"Then how could you know it was them?"
"...I just knew. I don't know how. Trying to explain how I knew who it was, is, is like trying to explain how these nightmares came to us, me, Max. I mean try to explain that!!"
"I can't James, that is why I am probing you. Asking you to help me understand"
"I fucking can't help you, I don't know myself. Don't you think I would tell you something, if I knew. You guys keep us locked up down here, torturing us, feeding us maggots, keeping us in the dark. If I thought I could get out by telling you the truth, I would. But that would mean knowing what the truth is, knowing what truth it out there for me to tell. But I don't, I don't know what happened. So, I may have fucked some sixteen year old girls, that is a crime, I know that, but they didn't look sixteen, older I tell you, they looked fucking older."
"Alright James, that is enough for today."
"No, no don't go, don't let them take me back there, please, God no, I will talk, I will talk, please don't let them take me back!!"
"I said our session was over, James, if there is anything you want to tell me, you can tell me in the..the next time we meet."
"You wanted to say 'tomorrow' didn't you, you were going to say
tomorrow!! You bastard, how long have I been here, where the fuck is Max? You
asshole, come back, I want to talk, I want to talk....oh shit, no, not the
snakes, not the fucking snakes!! I am sorry, come back, please God, come
back"
Transition II: Max's Head Room
"So, I hear Jimmy has confessed."
"What, confessed to what? We didn't do anything doc, I swear, I would tell you, I would tell you if I could remember."
"Don't worry son, he says you were out cold, and that he did it all. That will look good in a court of law. You can plea bargain your way out, probably only spend a few years in jail. But without the bodies, without the bodies, we don't have the evidence we need."
"I am telling you, I have told you everything I saw. Everything I saw in my dreams. I saw a body, lying face down, hacked up, finger missing, lying in under a grate, in some kind of drain storage, somewhere deep, where no one would find her."
"What about the other body, what about the other body?"
"I only saw one, it was Jimmy who saw two. He said the other one was out in a barn, somewhere, buried underneath the grazing area. You should go look for that one, you should go look for that body. There aren't too many farms left around her, I bet you could find her, the body that is."
"Son, the ground is frozen solid. A thousand men couldn't shovel, dig through it. Besides, there is a storm coming, it should hit tonight."
"Tonight? What day is it, what did you tell my parents? Please turn on the lights!"
"Son, I told you, if you help me, I will help you. How can I help you if you don't help me?"
"But I have tried to help you, I have told you the same thing I told the police, the same things that were in my dreams."
"Let's talk about those dreams again, shall we? Let me hear them again, for the record this time. How about it?"
"How many times do I have to go through this before you guys believe me?"
"Guys? Just me here son, just me. We need to go over it a few more time, just to make sure I got it all right. Wouldn't want to get things wrong, now would I? So, please tell me again."
"Fuck."
The dreams, the images, whatever you want to call them, started in the bar, before I went to the john. When Jimmy and I got into the car, into the jeep, I don't think I had them any more. If I did, I couldn't remember. I really had too much to drink. I can remember the girls laughing and Mary whispering, 'this is going to be a night you will never forget.' I think that is the last coherent thing I can remember. There were other spots, other blasts of reality, I think they were reality, but I don't know if they were shot of reality or not. I kind of remember Jimmy taking off his clothes, falling to the ground, but everything is hazy. It is ironic what Mary said, because I can't remember a thing.
When I woke up the next morning, I was in my own bed, back at my parents house, in my own clothes, not the clothes I had worn last night. I thought it was weird that I didn't have a hang over, that I didn't feel all the alcohol at all. Maybe I just laid in bed for another hour before getting up. This was the last time I could actually tell what time it was. Laying in bed, that's when I saw the images again. I remember thinking what a strange night I had, and the next thing I knew, the dream, the nightmare popped back into my head, and that is where it stayed. The dreams slowly moved from sight to sight and feeling, to feeling to taste, from taste to pain, but never sound. Everything was deafened, but I couldn't hear a thing. My mind was warped into this lull, where all I could do was see this girl's body, rapped and mutilated. Her legs had been spread open and there were deep lacerations on her thighs. My mind, again, moved like a camera, slowly perusing the girl's decrepit body as if it were dissecting her.
These daydreams, day-nightmares, whatever evolved. I began to see this girl, before her death, before anything of this horrible acts had been done. I saw her in a dress, in a soft pink dress. I saw the pretty white lace that surrounded the dress, like a gate not letting any one in. I saw the girl, she was about fifteen I would say, running through her yard, with this dress on. The dress made her happy. My eyes moved up and down this girl, but I never saw her face. I couldn't never see her face.
When my eyes hit her face, I saw a blotch of red, like those opaque clouds they put over people's faces on TV, so you can't see who they really are. Only, this cloud was red. It was red. I thought I was going crazy until Jimmy told me he was seeing the same thing. Well, almost the same. Jimmy saw two girls, and I think he saw their faces. He never said he saw their faces, directly, but he always hinted about it.
Jimmy came over to see me after I had been up for a while. He said we had to talk. About things. About last night, about what happened, because he didn't know what had happened. I thought that was strange coming from Jimmy, for he always remembered things. He always remembered.
I think we were both reluctant to tell the other one about the dreams. His had come to him in his dreams, mine in the bar last night or which ever night that was. He went on to describe his, I went on to describe mine. They messed, made sense, but still didn't. He said he thought that the girls, I only saw one, were the ones from last night. He said he thought those girls were into something weird. Into some heavy shit, and may have pulled us into it. He said that those girls were only sixteen, only sixteen.
"Only sixteen!! What the fuck are you trying to tell me? We fucked some underage girls?"
"No, I fucked. You were cold on the floor. I didn't know, believe me, I didn't know they were."
"When did you find out?"
"When I was going through their purse to find a condom. When we got to the house, the house on the lake, I had to carry you in. Janelle said that you were dead, and to put you on the floor. Mary couldn't help laughing, and it made me laugh too. I laid you on the floor, and you were out. I don't think you were every really to aware what was going on even when I fished you out of the bathroom. We went into the kitchen, into this room with weird lights. Janelle said that her parents were getting it remodeled, and the remodelers installed these light so they could see better. Hell man, anything sounded real to me then, I guess they could have sold my the Brooklyn bridge and I would have bought it, I was severely wasted."
"You just left me lying on the floor, where, in what room?"
"How I am supposed to know, everything looked the same, no furniture anywhere."
"Shit, I don't remember any of this."
"I told you, you were out....Anyway, they led me into the kitchen and told me to take off my clothes. I didn't know what was going on, so I did. They said I wasn't doing it fast enough, and came over to help. They were animals, ripping my clothes off with their teeth. I mean, college girls don't even do that. Pretty soon we were all naked and the girls said that they would be right back. Janelle said to get a condom out of her purse, so I did. I got a couple." "While digging around in there, I found Janelle driver's license. It said birth, June 27, 1979. I didn't think of it then, but when I woke up this morning, that is all I could think about."
"Jesus."
We hadn't mentioned the dreams at this point, we were only trying to figure out what to say if someone found out that we got involved with some minors. That could mean big trouble for both of us. Jimmy told me that they were insatiable, and that he went on for a while, fucking them in the kitchen. But then, his memory just lapses, just lapses.
"It's weird, I remember that this was the best sex I have ever had. One would be on top, they were kissing each other. I thought this was better that Penthouse. But all of a sudden, everything went black and the last thing I remember seeing, hearing is Janelle saying 'good night.' The next thing I know, I am in my bed, in my pajamas, and it's morning. That's when I came over here. There is something else, about last night, but I don't want to say, I feel kind of weird."
"Is it the dreams?" I said without hesitation.
We both just stared at each other, sort of turning green in the face. We both knew what the dreams meant, we both knew that we were having the same ones. Jim and I spent the whole day telling each other that this was just some kind of ill effect brought on by the alcohol, but we both knew it wasn't. When the dreams hadn't gone away in a couple of days, I was scarred that this might be some kind of "mystics premonition" that some people have just before a crime. I had heard about them in my Criminology class, but thought they were just a hoax. I told Jimmy that we should go to the police with this, in hope that we would stop a crime. Jimmy didn't like the idea because he was afraid the cops would find out that he had sex with them a few nights before. He was worried that he would get busted for having sex with minors. That is when I knew he could see their faces. He knew that the girls in his dreams were the girls we met that night, he knew that they were murdered, sometime after. Jimmy had more information than me, and he wasn't telling.
He made me swear I wouldn't go to the cops, not until we investigated a little more. I told him I would stay away from the cops, but I didn't, and neither did he.
"Why do you think that son, why didn't you investigate things more?"
"I didn't because I started hearing sounds in my dreams, I could hear that the girls were still alive, and if this had happened already, maybe there was a chance to save them, her, I only saw one of the girls in my dreams."
"What about Jimmy, why did Jimmy go to the cops?"
"When they brought us here, he told me, the last time I saw him, that the cops already knew, that we were already suspects, that GT had told the cops that he saw us leave with them. He said he saw this in a dream, that if he didn't tell the cops what was happening, he would go to jail. He said his dreams were telling him the future, that none of this had happened and that night, the night in the bar was still going on. We never left he said, we never left. We are still there, and I am still trying to clean you up, so we can go with Mary and Janelle. He said someone was controlling us, all this time here isn't real, and that was why we couldn't hear any sounds. This time hadn't happened.
'None of this is real man, none of this is real. We aren't really here, we
are still in the fucking bar. Someone is fucking with us, I saw it some guy,
some guy hidden by the shadows, I can't see him, but I know he is there. Fuck,
we're screwed, you know where they are taking us? Do you know? They are taking
us to the asylum in Newport, the place where they lock up the loons, the real
fucking loons. No one gets out of there man, no one. Even if we would have told
them that next morning, it wouldn't have mattered, they wanted us to tell, he
was testing us, to see if we would crack, he is trying to pin his shit on us
man, don't you see, the house, the house the house.'
I didn't see him again.
I went to the cops so the dreams would stop. So the noises, the screams, her screams would stop. I couldn't take hearing them, I could take hearing her scream out loud, in pain. I could see her face, her eyes beneath her watery grave moving in agony, moving to find a way out. She was alive, alive, her hands had been bound to the grate, the sewage grate, she could move them. Her legs, what was left of them, were pinned against the some underwater branches or something for she could move these as well. I could hear her gasping for breath, gasping for air, but there was none to take. My mind flashed backwards to the girl with the pink dress, how it had gotten stained, stained with her own blood. Mary Muldroy, it was Mary a year younger than when we had met her, a year before Jim had fucked her. Her dress had been stained, with her own blood, coming from between her legs, dripping wet, sticky blood onto the concrete below her. The dress made her look like she was nine, but you could tell that she was older, more mature, filled out, breasts large and full, not like a nine year old, not like a fifteen year old. I saw her running, still skipping happily with her dress soaked in blood, and was singing, I could hear singing, but could not make out the song. My mind flashed forward to a kitchen, a kitchen illuminated with blue fluorescence, I saw her lying on the kitchen table, naked, barely moving. As my eyes closes in I could see her body was bruised and could hear her penetrating moans of anguish; they hit like gentle punches slowly becoming louder and louder. I covered my ears, with my hands, but I couldn't make the noise stop. She looked at me and said "why, why did you leave me here? I love you Max, I loved you."
I couldn't take it anymore, I had to go to the police, I didn't care what I had said to Jim, I had to make this madness stop. When I got to the station, Jim was already there, hysterical, hysterically ranting and raving about some plot to conceal this whole thing up. He wasn't going to take the fall, he wasn't going to take the fall. He looked at me, and his eyes where totally black, he said
"can't you see, can't you see?"
The police put us in a car, and we drove for what seemed like hours. I can't be sure how long I we drove, I could pay attention, the noise inside my head was too loud, too loud. They had to put Jim in some kind of restraint, but he soon calmed down and began whispering to himself. I couldn't make out what he was saying, he wasn't talking it to me, I tried to listen to him, but the noises were just too loud inside my head.
When we first got this building, this gothic imprint out of some old Catholic bible, Jim tried to tell me something, but they pulled him away. When I tried to fight, the cops hit me to the ground, they kept hitting and hitting. Laughing at me as if I didn't exist. After that I didn't put up a fight, I didn't try to struggle at all.
I don't know where this place is, that I am at. Where we actually are, but I do know that the dreams have stopped, and the girl inside my head no longer screams in pain, she no longer screams in pain.
Denouement:
"Max Donnel, Mr Donnel are you there?"
"Yeah, I mean, yes I am."
"It is time for another session Mr Donnel, time for another session."
"Fine, shoot."
"You sound unnerved Mr Donnel."
"Yeah. I suppose I fucking am."
"Such language Mr. Donnel. Please, refrain from this."
"Whatever."
"I will make a note of that. You say that the last time you talked to James Calburt was when the police brought you to us. You described how Mr. Calburt told you that this was some bizarre plot to frame you two, and how this time really didn't exist. Do you remember telling me this? Good. Well, my records show that you and Mr. Calburt had a conversation while you were in the residential facilities, before we decided your treatment would be better handled down here. Can you tell me the contents of this conversation, what you and he talked about?"
"You guys don't miss a thing, do you?" "Well, it wasn't a conversation really, Jim, ah, Mr. Calburt said something to me, I don't really remember what, it didn't really make sense to me then. It doesn't really make sense now either."
"What did Mr. Calburt say, then Max, please tell me."
"What happened to the other guy, the guy who always said 'son'?"
"Please stick to the question at hand Mr Donnel, please answer my question."
"If I do, will you let me out of here, will you turn on the lights and let me go?"
"Perhaps, just answer the question please."
"What if I don't? What if I say I don't remember what he said to me, what if I say he didn't say anything to me. What if..."
"Well Mr Donnel, we both know that he did say something to you now don't we? If you hide the truth from me, then you might not like what happens. Now, you have been very cooperative with my associate, I hope I won't have to report that you have been, how should I say, troublesome?"
"If you know what he said to me, then why do you want me to tell you what he said. None of this makes any fucking sense."
"We just want to hear it from you. We just want to know. Now, please Mr. Donnel, tell me what Mr Calburt said."
"Fuck..."
PAUSE
"Fine, I'll tell you, but you have to let me out of here, I am beginning to go blind, can't see a damn thing."
"We will see what we can do Mr Donnel."
The cops took me and Jim to separate rooms, on separate wings. All I remember is that everything was white. Creamy white, like the foam from beer, really white. The guards, cops, whatever you want to call them made me dress in white pajamas and carry this book around with me. There were no words in this book, no title, nothing. It just had this rough surface, leathery, almost rocky. I didn't understand why I had to carry around a book without meaning, a book without words, but if I didn't have it with me, if I didn't carry it, the guards would beat me, they wouldn't stop.
They let me eat three times a day, but the food was always the same. It really didn't have any flavor, and texture, it all tasted the same. Once, I saw Jim in line, waiting to get served. He was carrying a red book, mine was green. He saw me, and at first just stared at me. Finally, when we got closer, he said 'look, I can't talk long, probably watching me now, but I have to tell you this, or we both are screwed. All that shit I said about this being some plot, some weird scheme, forget it, if they ask, bring you down into the towers, tell them nothing. Listen Max, I have entered the gate of thorn, but you are still here. Save yourself man, save your fucking self. None of this is real, look, books without fucking words, when you dream you can't read, remember that in Psych class, remember. I don't know what I am doing, but you got to get out, tell the world about that fucking house, tell everyone to stay the fuck away. You don't know what is down in those towers Max, total fucking darkness, if they put you down there...' That is when the guards pulled him away. I saw them carry him off, into the distance, down a hall, I watched until I could see him any more. When the guards grabbed him, I saw his eyes go black again, he started mumbling and screaming in pain. The guards grabbed me to, started to beat me, and when I woke, I was down here.
"Is that good enough for you doc?"
"Yes, thank you. That will be all Mr. Donnel."
"Hey, hey, what about me? You promised to let me go, get some light in here, you fucking promised if I told you what you wanted to know, what you wanted to hear, you would let me go."
"Yes, yes I did Mr. Donnel. I am a man of my word, so do not worry. You will be going home, soon Mr Donnel, soon."
"What about the light, can you turn on the fucking light? Hey, hey man,
come back, I know you are there, fucking answering me, you asshole, answer
me!!"
Epilogue:
This blackness, this fucking blackness. I can't remember any of my dreams now. I don't even think I can remember the past, my present or any future that might have been. It's as if I never existed.
My sister speaks of a man, speaks of a man in black, who lives up in the house by the lake. She tells me that he is an evil man and of the horrid crimes he committed. She tell me how he used to eat children's souls, how he used to butcher them up and throw them down in his lagoon. She said that there is this lagoon behind the house on the lake, the lagoon was turned into the lake once the towns' people had hunted him down. My sister tells me never to go there, and to never tell this to anyone. She says it is our secret, and that the only reason she is telling me is to protect me, to protect me from what happened to her.
Telling a child he can't tell anyone is like a curse, for one must know that he will break it. A story about a madman on a lagoon, with demons and witches only incites a child's playful imagination. My sister told me, to warn me, to warn me she says, but I know now that she told me so that I would go there, so that I would be afraid to go to sleep at night. I hold the flashlight tight, shining it on anything that moves. The light is my only protection.
I pass by Jimmy Calburt's house. Jimmy was in my class, he was before he died. They say Jimmy ran out in front of a car, chasing a ball. He didn't see the car, he didn't see it at all. The car skidded into Jimmy's head, killing him instantly. There was no suffering, no pain. Jimmy's parents have donated money to the school, in order to build a memorial playground, in order to preserve his memory. Mom says people do that, when they lose a loved one.
When you are young, there are a lot of things that can frighten you, that can make you afraid to turn out the lights. When you have sleep overs, it is nice to share that fear with another person, your best friend. My best friend's name is Randy Johnson. He has red hair. I tell him everything, my deepest, darkest secrets, and I even told him about the house on the lake, by the old lagoon where the little children's bodies rot. He says that we should check it out tomorrow, he says that we should go exploring. I am not sure if I want to, but the curiosity pushes me into saying 'yes.'
Riding our bikes up that long hill takes a lot of effort. I am straining so much, I can't hear a sound. I can't hear a sound.
My mom says that they are going to build a 'bar and grill' out past Gibsons old
farm house, right before the city's limits, right before you get to
"When you are older, you will understand."