And so here we are, down to the meat of this
project: the first of the entries that I shall be trying to make before
Aqualung decides that the knowledge stored in my files is not quite enough to
satisfy him one night, or until that accursed Thaddeus comes knocking. Or one
of the handful of others on my list of those most likely to directly effect my
death.
Whichever of them it might be, I do not expect to
be capable of mounting any kind of significant resistance. I do plan on making
the attempt, but I do not expect much to come of it. If it is Aqualung or one
of its ilk, the shotgun which I have prepared will not be of much use. If it is
Thaddeus or one of the other traitors that the community appears to have
designated “Proxies”, I still do not expect the shotgun to be of much use. Even
if it is technically capable of harming them, my vision is poor, I am old, and
I have never fired a weapon of any kind in my life.
Still, I will make the attempt. If nothing else, I
will find great satisfaction in at least getting to pull the trigger once as a
final act of spite against them.
The account contained in the following document
explains why. The original is a hand-written journal, taken from the home of
one Donald Sullivan in Louisville, Kentucky. Let me preface the document with
another reminder that these accounts are incomplete. While I can, in most
cases, identify which records are missing pieces, there are some that cannot be
proven to be complete or incomplete. Still, this is one of those records that I
consider most important, and so I shall upload it as it is now and hope that
everything that I originally considered so important is still there.
DOCUMENT
EAT-001: SULLIVAN, DONALD
[This document was originally a handwritten journal.
The pertinent entries have been included here; the rest of them are idle
musings from a teenage boy. However, between this entry and the previous one
there is a several-page gap wherein nothing has been written.]
Sarah woke up today. Mom and Dad were happier than
I think I’ve ever seen them.
The doctors were talking about how it’s a miracle
and how it’s a million-to-one chance that she would ever come out of the coma.
Everybody was pretty much delirious with how happy they were and all I can
think of is that Sarah hasn’t said a word since she opened her eyes.
[New entry]
Yeah, I was right. Brain damage. Mom and Dad are
still trying to act like they’re happy she woke up, but I can see it. They
wanted Sarah back, not some vegetable. I heard Mom crying last night.
The doctors said she might be able to re-learn
stuff. She still moves now, and everything. She blinks. When I wave at
her, she waves back. But she doesn’t talk, and the doctors say there’s pretty
much no brain activity there. She’s just watching, or something.
[New entry]
Mom and Dad are crying again. It’s worse this time
because it’s kind of my fault, even though I didn’t mean to. They made me read
to her. They said I should spend time with my sister. But that’s not Sarah in
that room. Sarah’s dead. I don’t know who that is.
Sarah liked peanut butter and ham sandwiches. The
girl in that hospital room doesn’t know what peanut butter is. She doesn’t even
know what The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is. That was her favorite
book, and she didn’t even react when I started to read it to her. She just sat
there and stared at me.
I left after the first two chapters. Then Mom and
Dad came in and freaked out, because she was reciting it to herself. They
thought she had started to remember. They didn’t know I was reading it to her.
And when I told them the looks on their faces were like I had just killed Sarah
all over again.
[New entry]
Sarah has learned to walk again. She still isn’t
talking. Not really. She’s just repeating things to herself. Song lyrics. TV
show quotes. Conversations she overhears. The doctors say it’s a good sign.
She’s trying to re-learn everything she lost, or something like that.
Maybe. I don’t know. She was down there for a long
time. I don’t think it’s so much that she’s learning as it’s like shouting into
an empty cave.
And I don’t care what they say it is anyway. It’s
creepy. And she doesn’t look right when she stares at me. It’s like her eyes
are dead but the rest of her isn’t, or something.
She’s empty now. Sarah never came back up.
I want my little sister back.
[New entry]
Sarah moved back home today. She still isn’t
talking. She listens. Sometimes she still does that thing where she’ll mimic
me. But she walks now, and she can go to the bathroom and clean herself and
stuff like that. Mom and Dad are excited. They’re throwing a party.
I don’t know why. It’s still not Sarah.
[New entry]
I went out in the backyard while Mom and Dad were
gone today. I buried Cuddly out on the other side of the creek, behind the
bushes. The new girl just stared at me while I took him from her bed. Sarah
would have stopped me. Cuddly was her favorite bear.
Bye, Sarah. I love you.
[New entry]
It would have been Sarah’s birthday yesterday. Mom
and Dad wanted me to get the new girl a present. I don’t know why. It wasn’t
her birthday. I don’t know why they keep trying to act like Sarah ever came up.
Sarah drowned. She fell in the river and went under and the oxygen to her brain
got cut off until parts of it died an-
[illegible, scratched-out writing and tear stains] -ouldn’t help her she
screamed for me to pull her out
I’m sorry Sarah
[New entry]
Dad’s gone on a business trip for the weekend. Mom
wants me to go out with my friends to the movies. I don’t want to. There’s
nothing I want to see.
[New entry]
Mom is making me watch a movie together with her
and the new girl. I don’t want to watch a movie with them, either. The new girl
always looks at me funny. She creeps me out. I told Mom that, but she just says
I shouldn’t judge my sister.
I almost said she’s not my sister, but I didn’t
want her to cry again.
[New entry]
The new girl’s outside the door she put something
in Mom’s drink I don’t know what it was but Mom fell down and then she got up
again and she’s like the new girl was when she woke up in the hospital and she
tried to put the same thing in my drink
Mom tried to make me like her so I hit her but then
the new girl said something, actually said something like a real person she
said it was only water Michael why are you so afraid and she’s still talking
I’ve got the door locked but there’s no phone in here and I can’t call for help
[New entry]
Mom tried to come in through the window I hit her
again with a lamp this time I’m sorry Mom I love you
I think Mom’s dead now only she’s dead like Sarah
she’s not really dead just empty now
[New entry]
Dad, if you find this journal, I love you.
The new girl is still talking. I
haven’t seen the thing wearing Mom’s skin since I hit it with the lamp and it
fell out of the window. I pushed your bookshelf in front of it to keep it out.
I haven’t said anything to the new girl. It keeps talking about how I have to choose to “eat the silence
or embrace the archangel”. I don’t know what that means, but as long as it’s talking
it’s not trying to break down the door so I don’t care.
There's water seeping under the door. I don't know where it's coming from. I don't trust the water any more, though. I'm not going to touch it if I can help it. Please don't drink anything from the house. Or the river Sarah drowned in.
I’ve got your gun out of your bedside table. I’m
going to try and run for it. I’m going to shoot them if I can. They’re not Mom
and Sarah any more. I don’t think I’ll make it, but if I do, I’ll call you as
soon as I can.
I love you.
-
Mike
END OF DOCUMENT
This journal was
recovered from underneath the mattress in the master bedroom of Donald Sullivan’s
residence. His wife was found dead in the sitting room, shot once through the
head and lying next to a discarded pistol bearing Michael Sullivan’s
fingerprints. The pistol had been fired three times. Neither his son’s nor his daughter’s body were ever found. Nor were the other two bullets.