u/ReasonableUnit2170

The back of the bus always wafted with the vague scent of vomit. No matter how many times it was cleaned, the strange grey pleather was left alone in one row. No one wanted to sit where Janey Russel had thrown up at the beginning of the school year. I had to unstick my shoes from the floor to turn and face my friend.

“Don’t forget to hold your breath when we pass by the cemetery.” I warned them. We had met for the first time a few weeks ago. 

The sun was starting to feel less blistering, and the air had grown a bit cooler. Most of the bus’ windows were down. The people inside enjoyed the breath of fresh air. Green leaves had traded themselves for shades of yellow and red.

“Why? Does it smell?” They asked me.

“Well, sometimes. But that’s not what’s important. Come on, you have to trust me!” I said. 

“But, Maria, I can't hold my breath so well…” Auggie furrowed his brow. 

“Just DO it, Auggie!” 

I took in as deep of a breath as possible. I felt my chest and tummy expand as they filled with air. Pinching my nose with my fingers, I puffed my cheeks out like balloons. The muscles ached as they stretched to accommodate. Auggie looked concerned but followed suit. We had made it just in time, as the bus rounded the corner. Cattails and overgrown grass gave way to headstones speckled with moss. 

Even from my spot on the bus, I felt the air change. It felt ten degrees cooler and somehow heavier. I half expected to see frost on the ground, but the grass looked vibrant and dry. Some of the headstones we passed by were large statues, while others were what you’d typically see in the decoration section of a party store during Halloween. Off in the distance, I saw someone planting a shovel into the ground. A funeral will be happening soon, I thought. 

Suddenly, the bus swerved. Grabbing onto Auggie’s arm, I turned back in the seat to face him. His freckled face had started to turn red. The unexpected jostling of the bus mixed with the fact that he had asthma was a deadly combo. Reaching my hand up with ninja-like reflexes, I clamped my palm over his mouth.  

“Sorry kids, there was a pot-hole!” The bus driver announced over the radio. The speakers buzzed as they let off the button of the microphone . 

I felt my own lungs start to scream as I looked anxiously at Auggie. His eyes widened as he started to give up. Just a little longer and it will be over. The hand that wasn’t over Auggie’s mouth, was clutching one of his tightly. I felt his fingers buckle beneath my grip, causing me to release him ever so slightly. I could feel Auggie’s warm breath on my fingers as he started to exhale. Air was escaping from my lips as well. 

The scenery outside the window shifted from the aged cemetery to a thick patch of trees. They grew so close together that it almost drowned out the sun entirely. If it weren’t for the blue sky showing through the windows on the other side of the bus, I’d have thought we passed through a tunnel. After I quickly expelled the air I’d been holding, I sucked in another deep breath. Chest heaving as I scrambled for oxygen. 

“Why,” Auggie wheezed, “did you make me do that?” 

“What do you mean? Haven’t you ridden the bus before?” I looked at him with my head cocked to the side, still trying to catch my breath. 

“Uhm no…” Auggie reached into his pocket and produced a grey and blue cylindrical piece of plastic. He shook the thing, which made a similar sound to spray paint or a whipped cream can. The blue end was placed into Auggie’s waiting mouth. A hiss, a puff, and an inhale later, Auggie finally looked like he was starting to feel better. His shoulders no longer rose and fell dramatically, and the wheezing disappeared. 

“Oh, yeah. I forgot that this is your first time,” I frowned. “What’s that thing?” 

“My inhaler. I have asthma, remember? This is the medicine that helps me breathe better,” Auggie replied while shoving it back in his pocket. 

“Ewwww, look! Auggie and Maria are holding hands. Maria is practically a guy, so that’s GAY!” Marissa shouted. She was kneeling on her seat, pointing at us. Marissa was one of the only people who dared bully me. She was one of the few girls at the school who I knew was capable of beating me in a fight. We had been friends once, but that is a story for another time. 

“Maria and Auggie sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!” Kayla, Marissa’s new best friend, had decided to join in on the taunting. Kayla would end up getting her ass whooped soon, very soon. 

I giggled at the thought of the word ass. It was one of the many things I wasn’t allowed to say, even though I heard it at home all the time. My mother had a mouth worse than any trucker I’ve ever met, and there were a lot who passed through our small town. She was a harsh woman - in more ways than one. Even though I wasn’t bothered by what the girls were saying about me, it pissed me off that Auggie was being dragged into the mix. He was my first friend since my breakup with Marissa. 

“You guys better shut the HELL up!” I roared with ferocity. 

“Or what? Huh? What are YOU gonna do?” Marissa pointed her ugly brown eyes at me. 

I figured, if I got violent or popped off threats then my attempt to stop the harassment would backfire. So, I decided to use my brain, and think of another way out. A lightbulb flashed over my head. I knew what she was really after, and what she was bothered by. I knew her better than she knew herself. If I was going to use my words instead of using my fists, I had to go for the throat. 

“I’m not going to DO anything, actually. You’re just jealous, aren’t you?” I paused and sighed for dramatic affect. “I actually have a friend who likes me, while you’re just surrounded by air-heads with money. Loser.” 

The bus erupted into a chaos of laughter and kids saying ‘ooooh that was a sick burn’. I felt pride well up within my core as I sat back down in my seat. Auggie peered up at me, looking shocked . His expression confused me. For a second, neither one of us said anything. 

“You’re a girl?” Auggie finally asked. 

“Last time I checked, yeah. I mean, come on, my name is Maria?”

“Yeah, but boys can have girly names sometimes…” Auggie sounded like he even doubted himself. 

Growing up poor in the middle of nowhere with two older brothers did nothing to help my case. Most of the clothes I wore were hand-me-downs from Devin and Nick, same with my shoes. Grass stains covered my knees and dirt permanently resided under my fingernails. My hair was short and choppy after a mishap with the kitchen scissors - it was dark brown and looked like half a coconut. 

“But, we bonded over the Ninja Turtles…” Auggie’s voice trailed off. 

“Yeah, dummy. Girls can like the Ninja Turtles too.” 

That was how we became friends. At the beginning of fifth grade, I met Auggie in the cafeteria during lunch. Marissa and I had stopped being friends during the summer, which had left me as some kind of leper. No one wanted to sit with me. No one wanted to get involved in the drama. That was when I spotted a lone kid sitting at a table in the middle of the room. I watched as he pulled a tinfoil wrapped PB&J from a metal lunchbox. On the front of it was one of my favorite comics.

“Who’s your favorite?” I asked as I pointed at the lid. 

“Um…Donnie.” The boy replied. He looked up at me through thick blond curls that fell into his eyes. 

“Mine is Raphael. He’s so cool and my favorite color is red. Mind if I sit here and eat?” I was already lowering my butt onto the bench. 

“Who’s your favorite villain?” The boy asked me softly.

“That's a good one…” I thought for a second before responding. “Probably Bebop or Rocksteady. What about you?”

“I like Rahzar. I like that they are also a turtle, just the snapping kind.” 

Pretty soon after that, we finally introduced ourselves. Becoming friends was a quick and easy process for the both of us. Even though we were in different classes, we would always unite during lunch and recess. I guess it had never dawned on me to express that I was a girl - I figured it didn’t matter. 

Usually, Auggie got picked up by his parents after school, but both of them had been stuck at work. Thankfully for us, Auggie’s grandma lived in the area where my bus traveled. For the first time, we would have time together off of school grounds. Even if it was only for ten or fifteen minutes. 

“Are you gonna tell me why you made me hold my breath?” Auggie asked while tugging on my sleeve. 

“I don’t really know. I heard it from the older kids when I was in kindergarten and I’ve been doing it ever since. We all do,” I said, while gesturing around the bus. 

“The bus driver didn’t,” Auggie retorted. 

“Well, she’s not a kid.” I stuck my tongue out at him. 

“Fine, fine, I give.” Auggie held his hands up in defeat. 

I felt a smile grow on my face. Even though it was a silly argument, it felt good to win. It was rare that I won at anything other than using my fists. My fighting skills were also courtesy of my brothers. They showed no mercy, especially to me. Said it was something about teaching me to defend myself. Looking back, all it taught me was that violence was the answer. 

“Wanna come over and play videogames?” Auggie asked. 

I hadn’t realized that I had gotten lost in my thoughts. Auggie’s voice had startled me. I was so used to sitting in the seat alone. Unbothered for the most part, unless Marissa was in a mood. How unlucky for me that she also lived in the same area. I wanted to stick my tongue out and go blegh but restrained myself. 

“Thanks, but no thanks. Mom is still at work and I’m not allowed to go anywhere without her permission.” I frowned at him. 

“Oh man, that’s a bummer. I understand though. My dad can be very strict.” Auggie said, nodding. 

My mother wasn’t just strict. She was something else entirely. A mix between a raging fire and the subzero temperatures during a winter storm. Mother could be loving and caring one minute, then screaming and throwing things the next. I always felt like I had to walk on eggshells. Never knowing what version of her I would find when she came home. My body began to tremble as I thought of my mother.

“Ah yes, take your time, Maria. I know talking about your mother can be hard.” Shaunda, my therapist, looked up from her notebook. She had been moving her hand across the page wildly as I spoke. Now, she studied my face while hers remained blank. 

“I don’t understand why my dad stayed with her for so long. I wish he would have divorced her sooner. Maybe I wouldn’t be having such a visceral reaction right now, if he had.” I leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Okay, so, why don’t we pivot. Tell me about the next time Auggie rode the bus with you. What was so special about the second time?” 

Although I was grateful for the change in mental scenery, I wasn’t sure if this was much better. Trying to center myself, I chased after the white rabbit. Tumbling down into the hole where I kept my darkest memories. The rain was cold and the sky was grey. Most of the leaves had evacuated themselves from the tree branches. It was nearing the end of October, Halloween was only a few days away. 

“I’ll be taking the bus to grandma’s house today,” Auggie had told me at lunch. 

“Fantastic! I can show you the new comics Nick let me borrow,” I grinned at him. “Mom finally said we could hang out soon. She said you could come over, as long as your parents are okay with it?” 

“Maybe we can plan something for Saturday?” Auggie asked while taking a bite from his sandwich. PB&J was the only thing this kid seemed to eat. It was much better than the bologna and cheese one that sat in front of me. 

The end of the school day came faster than expected. Usually, when I was excited about something, time seemed to drag on longer than normal. Throwing my coat over my shoulders, I grabbed my backpack and ran for the bus loop. Auggie was already waiting for me when I arrived, a small smile on his lips. He clutched the Ninja Turtles lunchbox with both hands, swinging it back and forth. 

“Ready to go?” Auggie asked. 

I nodded and headed for the stairs. His curly blonde hair bobbed up and down as he followed behind closely. Our footsteps thundered as we climbed onto the bus. The seat that I always sat in was waiting near the back, empty. Checking the ground for obstacles, I walked down the aisle. The seat groaned in protest as we dropped into it. 

“You remember what I told you last time?” I looked at Auggie with concern in my eyes. 

“Yes, Maria. I will remember to hold my breath.” Auggie grinned at me, proud of himself. 

“That’s a good boy,” I ruffled his hair like he was a dog. 

“Okay! Now show me the comics! I’ve been excited since you told me about them at lunch,” Auggie said. 

As the bus took off from its parking spot, I pulled the fragile magazine-like books from my backpack. We flipped through them with animated expressions, ooh-ing and ahh-ing as we went. That was, until we approached the cemetery. Once the cattails sprang into view, I shut the comic and prepared myself for the deep breath. Auggie did the same as last time, mimicking my every move. 

I felt my heartbeat travel through my entire body as I clenched my muscles. I was already feeling pressure build in my head - my cheeks puffing out wildly, like a chipmunk. The familiar sight of headstones and mausoleums filled the windowpane. An almost tangible fog rolled across the ground below. I felt a shiver pass through my body. The person that I’d seen digging the grave the last time Auggie rode the bus with me was standing with the shovel and facing the road. It felt like they were staring directly at me. 

I felt myself wavering at that moment. The shock of seeing the person with the shovel almost caused me to gasp. Instead, I wrapped my lips over my teeth and bit down hard. My nostrils flared against the thumb and pointer finger that pinched my nose closed. Not wanting to let fear force me into a mistake, I focused my gaze. I was going to watch the person standing with the shovel the entire way. I would not let them break me. 

That was when the bus slammed into the pot-hole the driver had avoided many times before. The road had worn away, creating a bigger and deeper hole than before. Then, I heard the sharp inhale of a breath from behind me. I felt the color drain from my face as I turned around to look at Auggie. He was breathing raggedly and clutching at his chest. My narrowed eyes had widened slowly as I processed. Auggie broke the rule. 

“You big dummy!” I cried out as the cemetery disappeared from view. 

“It was an accident… The pot-hole scared me so bad! I thought I was gonna die.” Auggie took a puff from the inhaler, holding it in for a moment before exhaling. 

“Something bad is going to happen now,” I said softly. 

“Like what?” Auggie’s tone seemed snarky. 

“I don’t know, but something very very bad is going to happen.” I realized at that moment that I truly didn’t know what was going to happen. I had never been told what the repercussion was for breaking the rule. Just that you never wanted to do it. My eyes darted around the bus, wondering if anyone else had noticed. Thankfully, they hadn’t. 

“It’s probably fine, Maria. Just a silly superstition.” Auggie went back to reading the comics. 

We spent the rest of the ride flipping through the pages in silence. The chatter on the bus disappeared quietly into the background. Even though I turned the pages every so often, I wasn’t reading them. Something felt off. Something felt wrong. I just didn’t know what. Pretty soon after, it was Auggie’s stop. We said our goodbyes and promised to hang out on Saturday. Before he got off the bus, Auggie stopped at the end of the aisle and took one last look at me before stepping down the stairs. 

Saturday had started off in the best way possible. When I came out of my room to eat breakfast, I heard my mother humming one of her favorite songs. It smelled like pancakes and bacon, the scent made my mouth water as I approached. Devin and Nick were already at the table, fighting over who got the largest pancake. While they weren’t looking, I snatched one from the plate and shoved it in my mouth. 

“Boys, make sure you keep an eye on your sister while her friend is over. We don’t need her getting into trouble when we have company.” Even though my mother’s tone was nice and warm, she spat daggers from her mouth. I may be the youngest, but I was more emotionally aware than anyone else in the family. I knew what she was really saying. ‘Make sure she doesn’t make a fool of me or this family’. 

“Ugh, seriously? You’re gonna make us babysit?” Devin groaned. 

“I’m just gonna take Auggie out to the woods where I built my fort!” I shouted excitedly at my brothers. 

When Auggie arrived, I was already waiting outside. His mother was sitting in the driver’s seat, her hair a poofy blond bird’s nest. He looked a lot like her, even down to the cool and dreary expression. She waved at me from inside the car and let her son out. I waved back robotically before sprinting towards my friend. 

“I’m so glad you are here! I can’t wait to show you all the cool things in my backyard.” I grabbed Auggie by the hand and dragged him alongside me. 

The fort was nothing special, looking back on it. Just a bundle of sticks, a few fallen trees, and a couple of tarps. I was lucky that it had not fallen on top of me - a disaster waiting to happen. I pulled back the tarp that served as a door and beckoned my friend to enter. He had to crouch down so that his head didn’t hit the top of the twig covered roof. Both of us sat down with our legs crossed, letting our eyes travel through the masterpiece I had built. 

“What’s this place for?” Auggie asked. 

“It’s my place to hide when mom is having one of her moments. It’s a place to get away from my brothers when they are picking on me too much. It’s a place where I can truly be myself.” I smiled meekly at Auggie. 

“I wish I had a fort…” Auggie’s voice trailed off. 

“This can be your fort too! You can come here whenever you want!” I clapped my hands together excitedly. 

A cough. Another cough. Auggie clutched at his chest. His breathing started to grow ragged and forced. As he dug around in his pocket for the inhaler, another cough wracked his body. A puff and an inhale later, and Auggie's breathing started to steady. I felt my stomach clench - a feeling passing through me that I couldn’t identify. Shaking myself out, I stood up from the ground and offered my hand. My friend took it gratefully and I pulled him to his feet. 

“Where to next?” Auggie asked while exiting the fort. 

“Let’s go down to the stream!” I shouted excitedly.  

Mud squished under our feet as we walked. It made a sucking sound as we pulled our shoes out for the next step. Piles of pine needles and grass patches were the only safe places to walk, but they were few and far between. I didn’t mind the mud, but Auggie struggled with it as we continued forward. After a few paces, we would get to our first landmark. On a small hill in the distance was the rusted shell of a car with a tree growing through the middle of it. 

I wasn’t sure what kind of car it was, but I knew it looked older than any vehicle I had ever seen. The front end of the car - where the engine should have been - was empty, and the cab was missing its seats. Red paint flaked off the frame, and there were no doors on either side. I had always wondered how a car had made it out this far into the woods, and how it could have fit through all the trees. I did know one thing though, it scared me. There was something creepy about the way it didn’t belong. I made sure to stay as far away as possible while on my way to the stream. 

“Holy CRAP. Is that what I think it is?” Auggie pulled on my hand. 

“No.” I planted my feet firmly. 

“Why not?” One of his blond eyebrows raised. 

“Because it’s scary, and because I said ‘no’.” I scowled at Auggie. 

“I’m going to go touch it,” Auggie said. He pulled on my hand harder. My elbow groaned in protest. 

“Fine, we can go over there. But no touching,” I negotiated. 

As we approached the car, I felt my stomach flip flop again. My palms had started to sweat and my mouth felt dry. Something deep within me was telling me to stay far away. When we got within arm's length of the car, I dropped Auggie's hand. The cool autumn air had seemed to grow even colder the closer we got to the oddly placed hunk of metal. 

*Cough-cough* Between coughs that vibrated through his chest, a smile started to form on the boy's face. Had it been under any other circumstance, the smile might’ve seemed genuine. This smile was sinister though. It stretched too wide. Took up too much of his face. As Auggie reached a hand towards the car, reflexively I took a step back. Snap! A twig broke underfoot. His gaze snapped up to me. Under the shade of the trees his eyes looked…sunken and bruised. 

“M-maybe we should keep going. The stream isn’t too far from here.” I stuttered. 

“Yeah, I guess we can go.” Auggie pulled his hand back from the car. The smile fell away into a look of apathy. The wavering of his personality struck me as odd, but not necessarily anything I needed to worry about.

Instead of walking side-by-side, hand-in-hand, Auggie walked behind me. At first, I walked with confidence - marching towards our destination. The birds are no longer chirping, I thought. Looking back on it, I wondered how long it had been since they fell silent. I felt the hairs raise on the back of my neck. Each crunch and snap caused me to jump. Something felt wrong. The woods felt too quiet. It felt like we were making too much noise. I wanted to turn around at that moment. I don’t know why I didn’t. For some reason, I just kept pushing through. 

“We can stop here if you’d like. I can tell that this is starting to really bring up some hard emotions,” Shaunda said and adjusted her glasses. 

“No, this is always the point where we stop. I have to just keep pushing if I want to make any progress.” 

“Okay, so what happened at the stream?” Shaunda’s prompting sent me back down the rabbit-hole yet again.

“He had started coughing again. Really, really badly,” I began. 

The stream truly hadn’t been much farther. I’d say we walked for maybe another ten minutes or so. When the coughing began, I just thought it was his asthma acting up again. I knew that physical activity made his condition worse, but I thought our slow pace would have made it a little easier. Auggie had doubled over, clutching at his chest while he hacked up a lung. The fear that I had been feeling coalesced into a burst of action. I ran over to him. 

Just as I had placed my hand on Auggie’s shoulder, the coughing stopped. He stood up straight, the sinister smile back on his face. The bruised bags returning under his eyes. I felt his hands on my shoulders, and then I was falling. My back slammed against the large rocks and boulders that lay at the bottom of the stream. Ice cold water splashed up around me, covering my face. I didn’t have enough time to catch my breath. The wind was knocked out of me on impact. 

Auggie was on top of me, holding me down. The surface of the water was disturbed by my struggling. It kept me from clearly seeing his face, but I knew. I knew that if I could see him, that he would be smiling that same unnerving smile I had seen just moments before. I thrashed and I kicked, trying to find some way for my face to reach the surface. I needed air. I hadn’t had a chance to hold my breath, and this wasn’t a game. 

“MARIAAAAA,” Devin’s voice was the first thing I heard as I was finally pulled out of the water. 

Auggie was still standing above me. This time his face was full of genuine fear and concern. As soon as I made it back onto my feet, he quickly released my arms and stepped back. His entire body was trembling and he kept apologizing over and over and over. When the sounds of Devin’s approach grew louder, Auggie took off. He bolted back the way we came without so much as a second glance. 

I wanted to cry at that moment, unsure of what had just happened. When my brother's face appeared from behind a tree, the tears that had formed in my eyes suddenly dried up. No matter what, I couldn’t let him see me weak. I couldn’t let him see me cry. Trying to brush the mud from my body, I took a shaky step forward. A shock of pain shot through my back and arm, causing me to wince. 

“What the hell happened to you?” Devin asked. “Wait, where’s Auggie?” 

“Oh, um, I fell. And Auggie went home a little while ago,” I lied.  

“Hm. Weird, but okay. Let’s go. It’s time for dinner.” 

The walk back to the house was cold and painful. My mother took one look at me, and fury bloomed behind her eyes. Her voice switched from a tone of sweetness to that of absolute hatred. I was a ‘mess of a child that had ruined dinner and would no longer be eating with the family’. After I cleaned up the mud I had tracked through the house, I was supposed to shower and then eat. 

Looking into the bathroom mirror, I saw that my back was covered with many bruises that had started to form. They ranged in size but would all eventually turn so dark they’d almost look black. Slipping into my pajamas, I winced as they brushed across my skin. When I got down to the kitchen, my mother was waiting for me at the table. The rest of the family was sent to bed, so that they wouldn’t witness my punishment. 

Waiting for me was a can of cold asparagus. Mother knew that this was the one food that I absolutely hated. She had already opened the can and had placed a fork next to it. I gulped audibly as I took hesitant steps forward. Instead of wild rage, my mother wore a look of cold hatred. That was a much scarier appearance to me. 

“You will sit here and eat the whole can. I will watch you so you don’t worm your way out this time. Your dad isn’t going to be coming to save you.” 

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t my fault. I wanted to tell her about what had happened out in the woods. Nothing I could have said at that moment would have changed her mind. So instead, I sat down. The first bite caused me to gag. The asparagus was slimy, squishy, and smelled like rot. 

“Please, mama. Please don’t make me eat it all,” I cried. 

“If you do not eat it all, I will personally shove it down your throat. I don’t think you want that, do you?” My mother hissed. 

Plugging my nose with one hand, I used the other to shovel the disgusting and cold vegetable into my mouth. Mashing my teeth together wildly, I tried my best to ignore the taste and texture as I swallowed. The gag hit me hard, sending part of the masticated mess back up my throat. I swallowed multiple times and stood up from the table. The can was empty. 

“Good girl, now go right to bed.” That was all my mother said as she walked away. 

Clutching a hand to my mouth, I ran up the stairs. As quietly as one can, I heaved up my stomach contents into the toilet and then brushed my teeth. Mother’s punishments were always cruel and never seemed to make sense. She would tell me every so often that I should be grateful. Grateful that at least she didn’t hit me like her parents did to her. I just wanted this day to be over. Sleep was difficult for me that night. I tossed and turned, nightmare after nightmare plaguing me. Drowning while my friend smiled above me. 

Auggie didn’t come to school for a while. He had come down with a very serious case of pneumonia, which had put him in the hospital. Although I was afraid of him now, I wanted to see him. I wanted to know why he had done that to me. It had been almost two weeks by the time I saw him again. When I got to lunch that day, there he was at the table like usual. Ninja Turtle lunchbox sitting open with a sandwich in his hand. 

“Uh, hi Auggie.” I sat down. 

He looked up at me for a moment. There was a look of confusion that quickly turned back to his usual apathy. His eyes still looked sunken, and his skin was paler than normal. Aside from that he seemed healthy. The practically finished sandwich told me that he must have been feeling fine. Not wanting to deal with the fact that he was very obviously ignoring me, I stood up from the table and decided to eat while standing by the trash cans. It made exiting the lunchroom a lot easier when the bell rang since they were close to the door. 

When I took the bus home that afternoon, Auggie was standing at the front of the line. I raised my hand to wave at him, and he did the same. Without speaking to each other, we walked up the stairs once the door squeaked open. Footsteps thudded like usual, echoing lightly. He must have to go to his grandma's house again, I thought as I sat down. The pleather seat hissed as our butts depressed the tired cushion. 

Before the bus rolled out of the school, I turned to look at Auggie. His dark circles had grown more intense than they were at lunch. Opening my mouth for a moment, I took in a breath. Before I could speak, the look of tiredness on his face stopped me in my tracks. Instead, I looked out the window and studied the scenery. As the cattails appeared, I heard Auggie speak. 

“Don’t forget to hold your breath.” 

As the cemetery burst into full view, I saw that the person who I’d seen holding the shovel was a man. He looked really old, older than my mamaw and papaw and really sick. Silver hair and wrinkled skin were easy to see as he stood by the edge of the road. I felt his eyes burn into me as I peeked out of the window. Dark blue crescent moons hung under his droopy eyes. He still held the shovel in one hand, and waved slowly with the other. I did not wave back, too focused on not breaking the rule.

When we finally reached the edge of the dense woods, I let out the breath I had been holding. As I expelled the air, I turned to face Auggie. He was sitting in the seat with his eyes closed. He looked just as sick and tired as the man with the shovel. I wanted to pat his shoulder and ask if he was okay, but decided not to. 

When the bus stopped in front of Auggie’s grandma’s house, he stood up silently and walked towards the front of the bus. Like last time, he paused to look back at me. The sinister smile grew upon his face. I shivered in my seat and broke my gaze. Without looking up, I heard the thundering of feet as kids hopped down the stairs and exited the bus. The doors hissed as they closed and then we were back on the move.   

“Was that the last time you saw young August?” Shaunda asked. 

“Well, yes and no. I went to his funeral. It wasn’t until later that I found out what happened. For years I had wondered why we moved so abruptly after the start of fifth grade. I think it was a wakeup call for dad, what happened to Auggie. He probably thought that it could have been me, who had been found dead in the fort. They said it was an asthma attack, that he’d run away from home and forgot his inhaler. I don’t know if I believe that, though. Not entirely.” 

“What makes you say that, Maria?” Shaunda asked. 

I panned my eyes from Shaunda’s face, to the space just behind her chair. Eleven year old Auggie stood behind her, his face forever frozen in time. His mouth moved in a way that I understood all too well. He always said the same thing over and over and over. A ghost that forever reminds me of the most important rule to ever enter my life. 

“Don’t forget to hold your breath.” 

The back of the bus always wafted with the vague scent of vomit. No matter how many times it was cleaned, the strange grey pleather was left alone in one row. No one wanted to sit where Janey Russel had thrown up at the beginning of the school year. I had to unstick my shoes from the floor to turn and face my friend.

“Don’t forget to hold your breath when we pass by the cemetery.” I warned them. We had met for the first time a few weeks ago. 

The sun was starting to feel less blistering, and the air had grown a bit cooler. Most of the bus’ windows were down. The people inside enjoyed the breath of fresh air. Green leaves had traded themselves for shades of yellow and red.

“Why? Does it smell?” They asked me.

“Well, sometimes. But that’s not what’s important. Come on, you have to trust me!” I said. 

“But, Maria, I can't hold my breath so well…” Auggie furrowed his brow. 

“Just DO it, Auggie!” 

I took in as deep of a breath as possible. I felt my chest and tummy expand as they filled with air. Pinching my nose with my fingers, I puffed my cheeks out like balloons. The muscles ached as they stretched to accommodate. Auggie looked concerned but followed suit. We had made it just in time, as the bus rounded the corner. Cattails and overgrown grass gave way to headstones speckled with moss. 

Even from my spot on the bus, I felt the air change. It felt ten degrees cooler and somehow heavier. I half expected to see frost on the ground, but the grass looked vibrant and dry. Some of the headstones we passed by were large statues, while others were what you’d typically see in the decoration section of a party store during Halloween. Off in the distance, I saw someone planting a shovel into the ground. A funeral will be happening soon, I thought. 

Suddenly, the bus swerved. Grabbing onto Auggie’s arm, I turned back in the seat to face him. His freckled face had started to turn red. The unexpected jostling of the bus mixed with the fact that he had asthma was a deadly combo. Reaching my hand up with ninja-like reflexes, I clamped my palm over his mouth.  

“Sorry kids, there was a pot-hole!” The bus driver announced over the radio. The speakers buzzed as they let off the button of the microphone . 

I felt my own lungs start to scream as I looked anxiously at Auggie. His eyes widened as he started to give up. Just a little longer and it will be over. The hand that wasn’t over Auggie’s mouth, was clutching one of his tightly. I felt his fingers buckle beneath my grip, causing me to release him ever so slightly. I could feel Auggie’s warm breath on my fingers as he started to exhale. Air was escaping from my lips as well. 

The scenery outside the window shifted from the aged cemetery to a thick patch of trees. They grew so close together that it almost drowned out the sun entirely. If it weren’t for the blue sky showing through the windows on the other side of the bus, I’d have thought we passed through a tunnel. After I quickly expelled the air I’d been holding, I sucked in another deep breath. Chest heaving as I scrambled for oxygen. 

“Why,” Auggie wheezed, “did you make me do that?” 

“What do you mean? Haven’t you ridden the bus before?” I looked at him with my head cocked to the side, still trying to catch my breath. 

“Uhm no…” Auggie reached into his pocket and produced a grey and blue cylindrical piece of plastic. He shook the thing, which made a similar sound to spray paint or a whipped cream can. The blue end was placed into Auggie’s waiting mouth. A hiss, a puff, and an inhale later, Auggie finally looked like he was starting to feel better. His shoulders no longer rose and fell dramatically, and the wheezing disappeared. 

“Oh, yeah. I forgot that this is your first time,” I frowned. “What’s that thing?” 

“My inhaler. I have asthma, remember? This is the medicine that helps me breathe better,” Auggie replied while shoving it back in his pocket. 

“Ewwww, look! Auggie and Maria are holding hands. Maria is practically a guy, so that’s GAY!” Marissa shouted. She was kneeling on her seat, pointing at us. Marissa was one of the only people who dared bully me. She was one of the few girls at the school who I knew was capable of beating me in a fight. We had been friends once, but that is a story for another time. 

“Maria and Auggie sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!” Kayla, Marissa’s new best friend, had decided to join in on the taunting. Kayla would end up getting her ass whooped soon, very soon. 

I giggled at the thought of the word ass. It was one of the many things I wasn’t allowed to say, even though I heard it at home all the time. My mother had a mouth worse than any trucker I’ve ever met, and there were a lot who passed through our small town. She was a harsh woman - in more ways than one. Even though I wasn’t bothered by what the girls were saying about me, it pissed me off that Auggie was being dragged into the mix. He was my first friend since my breakup with Marissa. 

“You guys better shut the HELL up!” I roared with ferocity. 

“Or what? Huh? What are YOU gonna do?” Marissa pointed her ugly brown eyes at me. 

I figured, if I got violent or popped off threats then my attempt to stop the harassment would backfire. So, I decided to use my brain, and think of another way out. A lightbulb flashed over my head. I knew what she was really after, and what she was bothered by. I knew her better than she knew herself. If I was going to use my words instead of using my fists, I had to go for the throat. 

“I’m not going to DO anything, actually. You’re just jealous, aren’t you?” I paused and sighed for dramatic affect. “I actually have a friend who likes me, while you’re just surrounded by air-heads with money. Loser.” 

The bus erupted into a chaos of laughter and kids saying ‘ooooh that was a sick burn’. I felt pride well up within my core as I sat back down in my seat. Auggie peered up at me, looking shocked . His expression confused me. For a second, neither one of us said anything. 

“You’re a girl?” Auggie finally asked. 

“Last time I checked, yeah. I mean, come on, my name is Maria?”

“Yeah, but boys can have girly names sometimes…” Auggie sounded like he even doubted himself. 

Growing up poor in the middle of nowhere with two older brothers did nothing to help my case. Most of the clothes I wore were hand-me-downs from Devin and Nick, same with my shoes. Grass stains covered my knees and dirt permanently resided under my fingernails. My hair was short and choppy after a mishap with the kitchen scissors - it was dark brown and looked like half a coconut. 

“But, we bonded over the Ninja Turtles…” Auggie’s voice trailed off. 

“Yeah, dummy. Girls can like the Ninja Turtles too.” 

That was how we became friends. At the beginning of fifth grade, I met Auggie in the cafeteria during lunch. Marissa and I had stopped being friends during the summer, which had left me as some kind of leper. No one wanted to sit with me. No one wanted to get involved in the drama. That was when I spotted a lone kid sitting at a table in the middle of the room. I watched as he pulled a tinfoil wrapped PB&J from a metal lunchbox. On the front of it was one of my favorite comics.

“Who’s your favorite?” I asked as I pointed at the lid. 

“Um…Donnie.” The boy replied. He looked up at me through thick blond curls that fell into his eyes. 

“Mine is Raphael. He’s so cool and my favorite color is red. Mind if I sit here and eat?” I was already lowering my butt onto the bench. 

“Who’s your favorite villain?” The boy asked me softly.

“That's a good one…” I thought for a second before responding. “Probably Bebop or Rocksteady. What about you?”

“I like Rahzar. I like that they are also a turtle, just the snapping kind.” 

Pretty soon after that, we finally introduced ourselves. Becoming friends was a quick and easy process for the both of us. Even though we were in different classes, we would always unite during lunch and recess. I guess it had never dawned on me to express that I was a girl - I figured it didn’t matter. 

Usually, Auggie got picked up by his parents after school, but both of them had been stuck at work. Thankfully for us, Auggie’s grandma lived in the area where my bus traveled. For the first time, we would have time together off of school grounds. Even if it was only for ten or fifteen minutes. 

“Are you gonna tell me why you made me hold my breath?” Auggie asked while tugging on my sleeve. 

“I don’t really know. I heard it from the older kids when I was in kindergarten and I’ve been doing it ever since. We all do,” I said, while gesturing around the bus. 

“The bus driver didn’t,” Auggie retorted. 

“Well, she’s not a kid.” I stuck my tongue out at him. 

“Fine, fine, I give.” Auggie held his hands up in defeat. 

I felt a smile grow on my face. Even though it was a silly argument, it felt good to win. It was rare that I won at anything other than using my fists. My fighting skills were also courtesy of my brothers. They showed no mercy, especially to me. Said it was something about teaching me to defend myself. Looking back, all it taught me was that violence was the answer. 

“Wanna come over and play videogames?” Auggie asked. 

I hadn’t realized that I had gotten lost in my thoughts. Auggie’s voice had startled me. I was so used to sitting in the seat alone. Unbothered for the most part, unless Marissa was in a mood. How unlucky for me that she also lived in the same area. I wanted to stick my tongue out and go blegh but restrained myself. 

“Thanks, but no thanks. Mom is still at work and I’m not allowed to go anywhere without her permission.” I frowned at him. 

“Oh man, that’s a bummer. I understand though. My dad can be very strict.” Auggie said, nodding. 

My mother wasn’t just strict. She was something else entirely. A mix between a raging fire and the subzero temperatures during a winter storm. Mother could be loving and caring one minute, then screaming and throwing things the next. I always felt like I had to walk on eggshells. Never knowing what version of her I would find when she came home. My body began to tremble as I thought of my mother.

“Ah yes, take your time, Maria. I know talking about your mother can be hard.” Shaunda, my therapist, looked up from her notebook. She had been moving her hand across the page wildly as I spoke. Now, she studied my face while hers remained blank. 

“I don’t understand why my dad stayed with her for so long. I wish he would have divorced her sooner. Maybe I wouldn’t be having such a visceral reaction right now, if he had.” I leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Okay, so, why don’t we pivot. Tell me about the next time Auggie rode the bus with you. What was so special about the second time?” 

Although I was grateful for the change in mental scenery, I wasn’t sure if this was much better. Trying to center myself, I chased after the white rabbit. Tumbling down into the hole where I kept my darkest memories. The rain was cold and the sky was grey. Most of the leaves had evacuated themselves from the tree branches. It was nearing the end of October, Halloween was only a few days away. 

“I’ll be taking the bus to grandma’s house today,” Auggie had told me at lunch. 

“Fantastic! I can show you the new comics Nick let me borrow,” I grinned at him. “Mom finally said we could hang out soon. She said you could come over, as long as your parents are okay with it?” 

“Maybe we can plan something for Saturday?” Auggie asked while taking a bite from his sandwich. PB&J was the only thing this kid seemed to eat. It was much better than the bologna and cheese one that sat in front of me. 

The end of the school day came faster than expected. Usually, when I was excited about something, time seemed to drag on longer than normal. Throwing my coat over my shoulders, I grabbed my backpack and ran for the bus loop. Auggie was already waiting for me when I arrived, a small smile on his lips. He clutched the Ninja Turtles lunchbox with both hands, swinging it back and forth. 

“Ready to go?” Auggie asked. 

I nodded and headed for the stairs. His curly blonde hair bobbed up and down as he followed behind closely. Our footsteps thundered as we climbed onto the bus. The seat that I always sat in was waiting near the back, empty. Checking the ground for obstacles, I walked down the aisle. The seat groaned in protest as we dropped into it. 

“You remember what I told you last time?” I looked at Auggie with concern in my eyes. 

“Yes, Maria. I will remember to hold my breath.” Auggie grinned at me, proud of himself. 

“That’s a good boy,” I ruffled his hair like he was a dog. 

“Okay! Now show me the comics! I’ve been excited since you told me about them at lunch,” Auggie said. 

As the bus took off from its parking spot, I pulled the fragile magazine-like books from my backpack. We flipped through them with animated expressions, ooh-ing and ahh-ing as we went. That was, until we approached the cemetery. Once the cattails sprang into view, I shut the comic and prepared myself for the deep breath. Auggie did the same as last time, mimicking my every move. 

I felt my heartbeat travel through my entire body as I clenched my muscles. I was already feeling pressure build in my head - my cheeks puffing out wildly, like a chipmunk. The familiar sight of headstones and mausoleums filled the windowpane. An almost tangible fog rolled across the ground below. I felt a shiver pass through my body. The person that I’d seen digging the grave the last time Auggie rode the bus with me was standing with the shovel and facing the road. It felt like they were staring directly at me. 

I felt myself wavering at that moment. The shock of seeing the person with the shovel almost caused me to gasp. Instead, I wrapped my lips over my teeth and bit down hard. My nostrils flared against the thumb and pointer finger that pinched my nose closed. Not wanting to let fear force me into a mistake, I focused my gaze. I was going to watch the person standing with the shovel the entire way. I would not let them break me. 

That was when the bus slammed into the pot-hole the driver had avoided many times before. The road had worn away, creating a bigger and deeper hole than before. Then, I heard the sharp inhale of a breath from behind me. I felt the color drain from my face as I turned around to look at Auggie. He was breathing raggedly and clutching at his chest. My narrowed eyes had widened slowly as I processed. Auggie broke the rule. 

“You big dummy!” I cried out as the cemetery disappeared from view. 

“It was an accident… The pot-hole scared me so bad! I thought I was gonna die.” Auggie took a puff from the inhaler, holding it in for a moment before exhaling. 

“Something bad is going to happen now,” I said softly. 

“Like what?” Auggie’s tone seemed snarky. 

“I don’t know, but something very very bad is going to happen.” I realized at that moment that I truly didn’t know what was going to happen. I had never been told what the repercussion was for breaking the rule. Just that you never wanted to do it. My eyes darted around the bus, wondering if anyone else had noticed. Thankfully, they hadn’t. 

“It’s probably fine, Maria. Just a silly superstition.” Auggie went back to reading the comics. 

We spent the rest of the ride flipping through the pages in silence. The chatter on the bus disappeared quietly into the background. Even though I turned the pages every so often, I wasn’t reading them. Something felt off. Something felt wrong. I just didn’t know what. Pretty soon after, it was Auggie’s stop. We said our goodbyes and promised to hang out on Saturday. Before he got off the bus, Auggie stopped at the end of the aisle and took one last look at me before stepping down the stairs. 

Saturday had started off in the best way possible. When I came out of my room to eat breakfast, I heard my mother humming one of her favorite songs. It smelled like pancakes and bacon, the scent made my mouth water as I approached. Devin and Nick were already at the table, fighting over who got the largest pancake. While they weren’t looking, I snatched one from the plate and shoved it in my mouth. 

“Boys, make sure you keep an eye on your sister while her friend is over. We don’t need her getting into trouble when we have company.” Even though my mother’s tone was nice and warm, she spat daggers from her mouth. I may be the youngest, but I was more emotionally aware than anyone else in the family. I knew what she was really saying. ‘Make sure she doesn’t make a fool of me or this family’. 

“Ugh, seriously? You’re gonna make us babysit?” Devin groaned. 

“I’m just gonna take Auggie out to the woods where I built my fort!” I shouted excitedly at my brothers. 

When Auggie arrived, I was already waiting outside. His mother was sitting in the driver’s seat, her hair a poofy blond bird’s nest. He looked a lot like her, even down to the cool and dreary expression. She waved at me from inside the car and let her son out. I waved back robotically before sprinting towards my friend. 

“I’m so glad you are here! I can’t wait to show you all the cool things in my backyard.” I grabbed Auggie by the hand and dragged him alongside me. 

The fort was nothing special, looking back on it. Just a bundle of sticks, a few fallen trees, and a couple of tarps. I was lucky that it had not fallen on top of me - a disaster waiting to happen. I pulled back the tarp that served as a door and beckoned my friend to enter. He had to crouch down so that his head didn’t hit the top of the twig covered roof. Both of us sat down with our legs crossed, letting our eyes travel through the masterpiece I had built. 

“What’s this place for?” Auggie asked. 

“It’s my place to hide when mom is having one of her moments. It’s a place to get away from my brothers when they are picking on me too much. It’s a place where I can truly be myself.” I smiled meekly at Auggie. 

“I wish I had a fort…” Auggie’s voice trailed off. 

“This can be your fort too! You can come here whenever you want!” I clapped my hands together excitedly. 

A cough. Another cough. Auggie clutched at his chest. His breathing started to grow ragged and forced. As he dug around in his pocket for the inhaler, another cough wracked his body. A puff and an inhale later, and Auggie's breathing started to steady. I felt my stomach clench - a feeling passing through me that I couldn’t identify. Shaking myself out, I stood up from the ground and offered my hand. My friend took it gratefully and I pulled him to his feet. 

“Where to next?” Auggie asked while exiting the fort. 

“Let’s go down to the stream!” I shouted excitedly.  

Mud squished under our feet as we walked. It made a sucking sound as we pulled our shoes out for the next step. Piles of pine needles and grass patches were the only safe places to walk, but they were few and far between. I didn’t mind the mud, but Auggie struggled with it as we continued forward. After a few paces, we would get to our first landmark. On a small hill in the distance was the rusted shell of a car with a tree growing through the middle of it. 

I wasn’t sure what kind of car it was, but I knew it looked older than any vehicle I had ever seen. The front end of the car - where the engine should have been - was empty, and the cab was missing its seats. Red paint flaked off the frame, and there were no doors on either side. I had always wondered how a car had made it out this far into the woods, and how it could have fit through all the trees. I did know one thing though, it scared me. There was something creepy about the way it didn’t belong. I made sure to stay as far away as possible while on my way to the stream. 

“Holy CRAP. Is that what I think it is?” Auggie pulled on my hand. 

“No.” I planted my feet firmly. 

“Why not?” One of his blond eyebrows raised. 

“Because it’s scary, and because I said ‘no’.” I scowled at Auggie. 

“I’m going to go touch it,” Auggie said. He pulled on my hand harder. My elbow groaned in protest. 

“Fine, we can go over there. But no touching,” I negotiated. 

As we approached the car, I felt my stomach flip flop again. My palms had started to sweat and my mouth felt dry. Something deep within me was telling me to stay far away. When we got within arm's length of the car, I dropped Auggie's hand. The cool autumn air had seemed to grow even colder the closer we got to the oddly placed hunk of metal. 

*Cough-cough* Between coughs that vibrated through his chest, a smile started to form on the boy's face. Had it been under any other circumstance, the smile might’ve seemed genuine. This smile was sinister though. It stretched too wide. Took up too much of his face. As Auggie reached a hand towards the car, reflexively I took a step back. Snap! A twig broke underfoot. His gaze snapped up to me. Under the shade of the trees his eyes looked…sunken and bruised. 

“M-maybe we should keep going. The stream isn’t too far from here.” I stuttered. 

“Yeah, I guess we can go.” Auggie pulled his hand back from the car. The smile fell away into a look of apathy. The wavering of his personality struck me as odd, but not necessarily anything I needed to worry about.

Instead of walking side-by-side, hand-in-hand, Auggie walked behind me. At first, I walked with confidence - marching towards our destination. The birds are no longer chirping, I thought. Looking back on it, I wondered how long it had been since they fell silent. I felt the hairs raise on the back of my neck. Each crunch and snap caused me to jump. Something felt wrong. The woods felt too quiet. It felt like we were making too much noise. I wanted to turn around at that moment. I don’t know why I didn’t. For some reason, I just kept pushing through. 

“We can stop here if you’d like. I can tell that this is starting to really bring up some hard emotions,” Shaunda said and adjusted her glasses. 

“No, this is always the point where we stop. I have to just keep pushing if I want to make any progress.” 

“Okay, so what happened at the stream?” Shaunda’s prompting sent me back down the rabbit-hole yet again.

“He had started coughing again. Really, really badly,” I began. 

The stream truly hadn’t been much farther. I’d say we walked for maybe another ten minutes or so. When the coughing began, I just thought it was his asthma acting up again. I knew that physical activity made his condition worse, but I thought our slow pace would have made it a little easier. Auggie had doubled over, clutching at his chest while he hacked up a lung. The fear that I had been feeling coalesced into a burst of action. I ran over to him. 

Just as I had placed my hand on Auggie’s shoulder, the coughing stopped. He stood up straight, the sinister smile back on his face. The bruised bags returning under his eyes. I felt his hands on my shoulders, and then I was falling. My back slammed against the large rocks and boulders that lay at the bottom of the stream. Ice cold water splashed up around me, covering my face. I didn’t have enough time to catch my breath. The wind was knocked out of me on impact. 

Auggie was on top of me, holding me down. The surface of the water was disturbed by my struggling. It kept me from clearly seeing his face, but I knew. I knew that if I could see him, that he would be smiling that same unnerving smile I had seen just moments before. I thrashed and I kicked, trying to find some way for my face to reach the surface. I needed air. I hadn’t had a chance to hold my breath, and this wasn’t a game. 

“MARIAAAAA,” Devin’s voice was the first thing I heard as I was finally pulled out of the water. 

Auggie was still standing above me. This time his face was full of genuine fear and concern. As soon as I made it back onto my feet, he quickly released my arms and stepped back. His entire body was trembling and he kept apologizing over and over and over. When the sounds of Devin’s approach grew louder, Auggie took off. He bolted back the way we came without so much as a second glance. 

I wanted to cry at that moment, unsure of what had just happened. When my brother's face appeared from behind a tree, the tears that had formed in my eyes suddenly dried up. No matter what, I couldn’t let him see me weak. I couldn’t let him see me cry. Trying to brush the mud from my body, I took a shaky step forward. A shock of pain shot through my back and arm, causing me to wince. 

“What the hell happened to you?” Devin asked. “Wait, where’s Auggie?” 

“Oh, um, I fell. And Auggie went home a little while ago,” I lied.  

“Hm. Weird, but okay. Let’s go. It’s time for dinner.” 

The walk back to the house was cold and painful. My mother took one look at me, and fury bloomed behind her eyes. Her voice switched from a tone of sweetness to that of absolute hatred. I was a ‘mess of a child that had ruined dinner and would no longer be eating with the family’. After I cleaned up the mud I had tracked through the house, I was supposed to shower and then eat. 

Looking into the bathroom mirror, I saw that my back was covered with many bruises that had started to form. They ranged in size but would all eventually turn so dark they’d almost look black. Slipping into my pajamas, I winced as they brushed across my skin. When I got down to the kitchen, my mother was waiting for me at the table. The rest of the family was sent to bed, so that they wouldn’t witness my punishment. 

Waiting for me was a can of cold asparagus. Mother knew that this was the one food that I absolutely hated. She had already opened the can and had placed a fork next to it. I gulped audibly as I took hesitant steps forward. Instead of wild rage, my mother wore a look of cold hatred. That was a much scarier appearance to me. 

“You will sit here and eat the whole can. I will watch you so you don’t worm your way out this time. Your dad isn’t going to be coming to save you.” 

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t my fault. I wanted to tell her about what had happened out in the woods. Nothing I could have said at that moment would have changed her mind. So instead, I sat down. The first bite caused me to gag. The asparagus was slimy, squishy, and smelled like rot. 

“Please, mama. Please don’t make me eat it all,” I cried. 

“If you do not eat it all, I will personally shove it down your throat. I don’t think you want that, do you?” My mother hissed. 

Plugging my nose with one hand, I used the other to shovel the disgusting and cold vegetable into my mouth. Mashing my teeth together wildly, I tried my best to ignore the taste and texture as I swallowed. The gag hit me hard, sending part of the masticated mess back up my throat. I swallowed multiple times and stood up from the table. The can was empty. 

“Good girl, now go right to bed.” That was all my mother said as she walked away. 

Clutching a hand to my mouth, I ran up the stairs. As quietly as one can, I heaved up my stomach contents into the toilet and then brushed my teeth. Mother’s punishments were always cruel and never seemed to make sense. She would tell me every so often that I should be grateful. Grateful that at least she didn’t hit me like her parents did to her. I just wanted this day to be over. Sleep was difficult for me that night. I tossed and turned, nightmare after nightmare plaguing me. Drowning while my friend smiled above me. 

Auggie didn’t come to school for a while. He had come down with a very serious case of pneumonia, which had put him in the hospital. Although I was afraid of him now, I wanted to see him. I wanted to know why he had done that to me. It had been almost two weeks by the time I saw him again. When I got to lunch that day, there he was at the table like usual. Ninja Turtle lunchbox sitting open with a sandwich in his hand. 

“Uh, hi Auggie.” I sat down. 

He looked up at me for a moment. There was a look of confusion that quickly turned back to his usual apathy. His eyes still looked sunken, and his skin was paler than normal. Aside from that he seemed healthy. The practically finished sandwich told me that he must have been feeling fine. Not wanting to deal with the fact that he was very obviously ignoring me, I stood up from the table and decided to eat while standing by the trash cans. It made exiting the lunchroom a lot easier when the bell rang since they were close to the door. 

When I took the bus home that afternoon, Auggie was standing at the front of the line. I raised my hand to wave at him, and he did the same. Without speaking to each other, we walked up the stairs once the door squeaked open. Footsteps thudded like usual, echoing lightly. He must have to go to his grandma's house again, I thought as I sat down. The pleather seat hissed as our butts depressed the tired cushion. 

Before the bus rolled out of the school, I turned to look at Auggie. His dark circles had grown more intense than they were at lunch. Opening my mouth for a moment, I took in a breath. Before I could speak, the look of tiredness on his face stopped me in my tracks. Instead, I looked out the window and studied the scenery. As the cattails appeared, I heard Auggie speak. 

“Don’t forget to hold your breath.” 

As the cemetery burst into full view, I saw that the person who I’d seen holding the shovel was a man. He looked really old, older than my mamaw and papaw and really sick. Silver hair and wrinkled skin were easy to see as he stood by the edge of the road. I felt his eyes burn into me as I peeked out of the window. Dark blue crescent moons hung under his droopy eyes. He still held the shovel in one hand, and waved slowly with the other. I did not wave back, too focused on not breaking the rule.

When we finally reached the edge of the dense woods, I let out the breath I had been holding. As I expelled the air, I turned to face Auggie. He was sitting in the seat with his eyes closed. He looked just as sick and tired as the man with the shovel. I wanted to pat his shoulder and ask if he was okay, but decided not to. 

When the bus stopped in front of Auggie’s grandma’s house, he stood up silently and walked towards the front of the bus. Like last time, he paused to look back at me. The sinister smile grew upon his face. I shivered in my seat and broke my gaze. Without looking up, I heard the thundering of feet as kids hopped down the stairs and exited the bus. The doors hissed as they closed and then we were back on the move.   

“Was that the last time you saw young August?” Shaunda asked. 

“Well, yes and no. I went to his funeral. It wasn’t until later that I found out what happened. For years I had wondered why we moved so abruptly after the start of fifth grade. I think it was a wakeup call for dad, what happened to Auggie. He probably thought that it could have been me, who had been found dead in the fort. They said it was an asthma attack, that he’d run away from home and forgot his inhaler. I don’t know if I believe that, though. Not entirely.” 

“What makes you say that, Maria?” Shaunda asked. 

I panned my eyes from Shaunda’s face, to the space just behind her chair. Eleven year old Auggie stood behind her, his face forever frozen in time. His mouth moved in a way that I understood all too well. He always said the same thing over and over and over. A ghost that forever reminds me of the most important rule to ever enter my life. 

“Don’t forget to hold your breath.” 

The back of the bus always wafted with the vague scent of vomit. No matter how many times it was cleaned, the strange grey pleather was left alone in one row. No one wanted to sit where Janey Russel had thrown up at the beginning of the school year. I had to unstick my shoes from the floor to turn and face my friend.

“Don’t forget to hold your breath when we pass by the cemetery.” I warned them. We had met for the first time a few weeks ago. 

The sun was starting to feel less blistering, and the air had grown a bit cooler. Most of the bus’ windows were down. The people inside enjoyed the breath of fresh air. Green leaves had traded themselves for shades of yellow and red.

“Why? Does it smell?” They asked me.

“Well, sometimes. But that’s not what’s important. Come on, you have to trust me!” I said. 

“But, Maria, I can't hold my breath so well…” Auggie furrowed his brow. 

“Just DO it, Auggie!” 

I took in as deep of a breath as possible. I felt my chest and tummy expand as they filled with air. Pinching my nose with my fingers, I puffed my cheeks out like balloons. The muscles ached as they stretched to accommodate. Auggie looked concerned but followed suit. We had made it just in time, as the bus rounded the corner. Cattails and overgrown grass gave way to headstones speckled with moss. 

Even from my spot on the bus, I felt the air change. It felt ten degrees cooler and somehow heavier. I half expected to see frost on the ground, but the grass looked vibrant and dry. Some of the headstones we passed by were large statues, while others were what you’d typically see in the decoration section of a party store during Halloween. Off in the distance, I saw someone planting a shovel into the ground. A funeral will be happening soon, I thought. 

Suddenly, the bus swerved. Grabbing onto Auggie’s arm, I turned back in the seat to face him. His freckled face had started to turn red. The unexpected jostling of the bus mixed with the fact that he had asthma was a deadly combo. Reaching my hand up with ninja-like reflexes, I clamped my palm over his mouth.  

“Sorry kids, there was a pot-hole!” The bus driver announced over the radio. The speakers buzzed as they let off the button of the microphone . 

I felt my own lungs start to scream as I looked anxiously at Auggie. His eyes widened as he started to give up. Just a little longer and it will be over. The hand that wasn’t over Auggie’s mouth, was clutching one of his tightly. I felt his fingers buckle beneath my grip, causing me to release him ever so slightly. I could feel Auggie’s warm breath on my fingers as he started to exhale. Air was escaping from my lips as well. 

The scenery outside the window shifted from the aged cemetery to a thick patch of trees. They grew so close together that it almost drowned out the sun entirely. If it weren’t for the blue sky showing through the windows on the other side of the bus, I’d have thought we passed through a tunnel. After I quickly expelled the air I’d been holding, I sucked in another deep breath. Chest heaving as I scrambled for oxygen. 

“Why,” Auggie wheezed, “did you make me do that?” 

“What do you mean? Haven’t you ridden the bus before?” I looked at him with my head cocked to the side, still trying to catch my breath. 

“Uhm no…” Auggie reached into his pocket and produced a grey and blue cylindrical piece of plastic. He shook the thing, which made a similar sound to spray paint or a whipped cream can. The blue end was placed into Auggie’s waiting mouth. A hiss, a puff, and an inhale later, Auggie finally looked like he was starting to feel better. His shoulders no longer rose and fell dramatically, and the wheezing disappeared. 

“Oh, yeah. I forgot that this is your first time,” I frowned. “What’s that thing?” 

“My inhaler. I have asthma, remember? This is the medicine that helps me breathe better,” Auggie replied while shoving it back in his pocket. 

“Ewwww, look! Auggie and Maria are holding hands. Maria is practically a guy, so that’s GAY!” Marissa shouted. She was kneeling on her seat, pointing at us. Marissa was one of the only people who dared bully me. She was one of the few girls at the school who I knew was capable of beating me in a fight. We had been friends once, but that is a story for another time. 

“Maria and Auggie sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!” Kayla, Marissa’s new best friend, had decided to join in on the taunting. Kayla would end up getting her ass whooped soon, very soon. 

I giggled at the thought of the word ass. It was one of the many things I wasn’t allowed to say, even though I heard it at home all the time. My mother had a mouth worse than any trucker I’ve ever met, and there were a lot who passed through our small town. She was a harsh woman - in more ways than one. Even though I wasn’t bothered by what the girls were saying about me, it pissed me off that Auggie was being dragged into the mix. He was my first friend since my breakup with Marissa. 

“You guys better shut the HELL up!” I roared with ferocity. 

“Or what? Huh? What are YOU gonna do?” Marissa pointed her ugly brown eyes at me. 

I figured, if I got violent or popped off threats then my attempt to stop the harassment would backfire. So, I decided to use my brain, and think of another way out. A lightbulb flashed over my head. I knew what she was really after, and what she was bothered by. I knew her better than she knew herself. If I was going to use my words instead of using my fists, I had to go for the throat. 

“I’m not going to DO anything, actually. You’re just jealous, aren’t you?” I paused and sighed for dramatic affect. “I actually have a friend who likes me, while you’re just surrounded by air-heads with money. Loser.” 

The bus erupted into a chaos of laughter and kids saying ‘ooooh that was a sick burn’. I felt pride well up within my core as I sat back down in my seat. Auggie peered up at me, looking shocked . His expression confused me. For a second, neither one of us said anything. 

“You’re a girl?” Auggie finally asked. 

“Last time I checked, yeah. I mean, come on, my name is Maria?”

“Yeah, but boys can have girly names sometimes…” Auggie sounded like he even doubted himself. 

Growing up poor in the middle of nowhere with two older brothers did nothing to help my case. Most of the clothes I wore were hand-me-downs from Devin and Nick, same with my shoes. Grass stains covered my knees and dirt permanently resided under my fingernails. My hair was short and choppy after a mishap with the kitchen scissors - it was dark brown and looked like half a coconut. 

“But, we bonded over the Ninja Turtles…” Auggie’s voice trailed off. 

“Yeah, dummy. Girls can like the Ninja Turtles too.” 

That was how we became friends. At the beginning of fifth grade, I met Auggie in the cafeteria during lunch. Marissa and I had stopped being friends during the summer, which had left me as some kind of leper. No one wanted to sit with me. No one wanted to get involved in the drama. That was when I spotted a lone kid sitting at a table in the middle of the room. I watched as he pulled a tinfoil wrapped PB&J from a metal lunchbox. On the front of it was one of my favorite comics.

“Who’s your favorite?” I asked as I pointed at the lid. 

“Um…Donnie.” The boy replied. He looked up at me through thick blond curls that fell into his eyes. 

“Mine is Raphael. He’s so cool and my favorite color is red. Mind if I sit here and eat?” I was already lowering my butt onto the bench. 

“Who’s your favorite villain?” The boy asked me softly.

“That's a good one…” I thought for a second before responding. “Probably Bebop or Rocksteady. What about you?”

“I like Rahzar. I like that they are also a turtle, just the snapping kind.” 

Pretty soon after that, we finally introduced ourselves. Becoming friends was a quick and easy process for the both of us. Even though we were in different classes, we would always unite during lunch and recess. I guess it had never dawned on me to express that I was a girl - I figured it didn’t matter. 

Usually, Auggie got picked up by his parents after school, but both of them had been stuck at work. Thankfully for us, Auggie’s grandma lived in the area where my bus traveled. For the first time, we would have time together off of school grounds. Even if it was only for ten or fifteen minutes. 

“Are you gonna tell me why you made me hold my breath?” Auggie asked while tugging on my sleeve. 

“I don’t really know. I heard it from the older kids when I was in kindergarten and I’ve been doing it ever since. We all do,” I said, while gesturing around the bus. 

“The bus driver didn’t,” Auggie retorted. 

“Well, she’s not a kid.” I stuck my tongue out at him. 

“Fine, fine, I give.” Auggie held his hands up in defeat. 

I felt a smile grow on my face. Even though it was a silly argument, it felt good to win. It was rare that I won at anything other than using my fists. My fighting skills were also courtesy of my brothers. They showed no mercy, especially to me. Said it was something about teaching me to defend myself. Looking back, all it taught me was that violence was the answer. 

“Wanna come over and play videogames?” Auggie asked. 

I hadn’t realized that I had gotten lost in my thoughts. Auggie’s voice had startled me. I was so used to sitting in the seat alone. Unbothered for the most part, unless Marissa was in a mood. How unlucky for me that she also lived in the same area. I wanted to stick my tongue out and go blegh but restrained myself. 

“Thanks, but no thanks. Mom is still at work and I’m not allowed to go anywhere without her permission.” I frowned at him. 

“Oh man, that’s a bummer. I understand though. My dad can be very strict.” Auggie said, nodding. 

My mother wasn’t just strict. She was something else entirely. A mix between a raging fire and the subzero temperatures during a winter storm. Mother could be loving and caring one minute, then screaming and throwing things the next. I always felt like I had to walk on eggshells. Never knowing what version of her I would find when she came home. My body began to tremble as I thought of my mother.

“Ah yes, take your time, Maria. I know talking about your mother can be hard.” Shaunda, my therapist, looked up from her notebook. She had been moving her hand across the page wildly as I spoke. Now, she studied my face while hers remained blank. 

“I don’t understand why my dad stayed with her for so long. I wish he would have divorced her sooner. Maybe I wouldn’t be having such a visceral reaction right now, if he had.” I leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Okay, so, why don’t we pivot. Tell me about the next time Auggie rode the bus with you. What was so special about the second time?” 

Although I was grateful for the change in mental scenery, I wasn’t sure if this was much better. Trying to center myself, I chased after the white rabbit. Tumbling down into the hole where I kept my darkest memories. The rain was cold and the sky was grey. Most of the leaves had evacuated themselves from the tree branches. It was nearing the end of October, Halloween was only a few days away. 

“I’ll be taking the bus to grandma’s house today,” Auggie had told me at lunch. 

“Fantastic! I can show you the new comics Nick let me borrow,” I grinned at him. “Mom finally said we could hang out soon. She said you could come over, as long as your parents are okay with it?” 

“Maybe we can plan something for Saturday?” Auggie asked while taking a bite from his sandwich. PB&J was the only thing this kid seemed to eat. It was much better than the bologna and cheese one that sat in front of me. 

The end of the school day came faster than expected. Usually, when I was excited about something, time seemed to drag on longer than normal. Throwing my coat over my shoulders, I grabbed my backpack and ran for the bus loop. Auggie was already waiting for me when I arrived, a small smile on his lips. He clutched the Ninja Turtles lunchbox with both hands, swinging it back and forth. 

“Ready to go?” Auggie asked. 

I nodded and headed for the stairs. His curly blonde hair bobbed up and down as he followed behind closely. Our footsteps thundered as we climbed onto the bus. The seat that I always sat in was waiting near the back, empty. Checking the ground for obstacles, I walked down the aisle. The seat groaned in protest as we dropped into it. 

“You remember what I told you last time?” I looked at Auggie with concern in my eyes. 

“Yes, Maria. I will remember to hold my breath.” Auggie grinned at me, proud of himself. 

“That’s a good boy,” I ruffled his hair like he was a dog. 

“Okay! Now show me the comics! I’ve been excited since you told me about them at lunch,” Auggie said. 

As the bus took off from its parking spot, I pulled the fragile magazine-like books from my backpack. We flipped through them with animated expressions, ooh-ing and ahh-ing as we went. That was, until we approached the cemetery. Once the cattails sprang into view, I shut the comic and prepared myself for the deep breath. Auggie did the same as last time, mimicking my every move. 

I felt my heartbeat travel through my entire body as I clenched my muscles. I was already feeling pressure build in my head - my cheeks puffing out wildly, like a chipmunk. The familiar sight of headstones and mausoleums filled the windowpane. An almost tangible fog rolled across the ground below. I felt a shiver pass through my body. The person that I’d seen digging the grave the last time Auggie rode the bus with me was standing with the shovel and facing the road. It felt like they were staring directly at me. 

I felt myself wavering at that moment. The shock of seeing the person with the shovel almost caused me to gasp. Instead, I wrapped my lips over my teeth and bit down hard. My nostrils flared against the thumb and pointer finger that pinched my nose closed. Not wanting to let fear force me into a mistake, I focused my gaze. I was going to watch the person standing with the shovel the entire way. I would not let them break me. 

That was when the bus slammed into the pot-hole the driver had avoided many times before. The road had worn away, creating a bigger and deeper hole than before. Then, I heard the sharp inhale of a breath from behind me. I felt the color drain from my face as I turned around to look at Auggie. He was breathing raggedly and clutching at his chest. My narrowed eyes had widened slowly as I processed. Auggie broke the rule. 

“You big dummy!” I cried out as the cemetery disappeared from view. 

“It was an accident… The pot-hole scared me so bad! I thought I was gonna die.” Auggie took a puff from the inhaler, holding it in for a moment before exhaling. 

“Something bad is going to happen now,” I said softly. 

“Like what?” Auggie’s tone seemed snarky. 

“I don’t know, but something very very bad is going to happen.” I realized at that moment that I truly didn’t know what was going to happen. I had never been told what the repercussion was for breaking the rule. Just that you never wanted to do it. My eyes darted around the bus, wondering if anyone else had noticed. Thankfully, they hadn’t. 

“It’s probably fine, Maria. Just a silly superstition.” Auggie went back to reading the comics. 

We spent the rest of the ride flipping through the pages in silence. The chatter on the bus disappeared quietly into the background. Even though I turned the pages every so often, I wasn’t reading them. Something felt off. Something felt wrong. I just didn’t know what. Pretty soon after, it was Auggie’s stop. We said our goodbyes and promised to hang out on Saturday. Before he got off the bus, Auggie stopped at the end of the aisle and took one last look at me before stepping down the stairs. 

Saturday had started off in the best way possible. When I came out of my room to eat breakfast, I heard my mother humming one of her favorite songs. It smelled like pancakes and bacon, the scent made my mouth water as I approached. Devin and Nick were already at the table, fighting over who got the largest pancake. While they weren’t looking, I snatched one from the plate and shoved it in my mouth. 

“Boys, make sure you keep an eye on your sister while her friend is over. We don’t need her getting into trouble when we have company.” Even though my mother’s tone was nice and warm, she spat daggers from her mouth. I may be the youngest, but I was more emotionally aware than anyone else in the family. I knew what she was really saying. ‘Make sure she doesn’t make a fool of me or this family’. 

“Ugh, seriously? You’re gonna make us babysit?” Devin groaned. 

“I’m just gonna take Auggie out to the woods where I built my fort!” I shouted excitedly at my brothers. 

When Auggie arrived, I was already waiting outside. His mother was sitting in the driver’s seat, her hair a poofy blond bird’s nest. He looked a lot like her, even down to the cool and dreary expression. She waved at me from inside the car and let her son out. I waved back robotically before sprinting towards my friend. 

“I’m so glad you are here! I can’t wait to show you all the cool things in my backyard.” I grabbed Auggie by the hand and dragged him alongside me. 

The fort was nothing special, looking back on it. Just a bundle of sticks, a few fallen trees, and a couple of tarps. I was lucky that it had not fallen on top of me - a disaster waiting to happen. I pulled back the tarp that served as a door and beckoned my friend to enter. He had to crouch down so that his head didn’t hit the top of the twig covered roof. Both of us sat down with our legs crossed, letting our eyes travel through the masterpiece I had built. 

“What’s this place for?” Auggie asked. 

“It’s my place to hide when mom is having one of her moments. It’s a place to get away from my brothers when they are picking on me too much. It’s a place where I can truly be myself.” I smiled meekly at Auggie. 

“I wish I had a fort…” Auggie’s voice trailed off. 

“This can be your fort too! You can come here whenever you want!” I clapped my hands together excitedly. 

A cough. Another cough. Auggie clutched at his chest. His breathing started to grow ragged and forced. As he dug around in his pocket for the inhaler, another cough wracked his body. A puff and an inhale later, and Auggie's breathing started to steady. I felt my stomach clench - a feeling passing through me that I couldn’t identify. Shaking myself out, I stood up from the ground and offered my hand. My friend took it gratefully and I pulled him to his feet. 

“Where to next?” Auggie asked while exiting the fort. 

“Let’s go down to the stream!” I shouted excitedly.  

Mud squished under our feet as we walked. It made a sucking sound as we pulled our shoes out for the next step. Piles of pine needles and grass patches were the only safe places to walk, but they were few and far between. I didn’t mind the mud, but Auggie struggled with it as we continued forward. After a few paces, we would get to our first landmark. On a small hill in the distance was the rusted shell of a car with a tree growing through the middle of it. 

I wasn’t sure what kind of car it was, but I knew it looked older than any vehicle I had ever seen. The front end of the car - where the engine should have been - was empty, and the cab was missing its seats. Red paint flaked off the frame, and there were no doors on either side. I had always wondered how a car had made it out this far into the woods, and how it could have fit through all the trees. I did know one thing though, it scared me. There was something creepy about the way it didn’t belong. I made sure to stay as far away as possible while on my way to the stream. 

“Holy CRAP. Is that what I think it is?” Auggie pulled on my hand. 

“No.” I planted my feet firmly. 

“Why not?” One of his blond eyebrows raised. 

“Because it’s scary, and because I said ‘no’.” I scowled at Auggie. 

“I’m going to go touch it,” Auggie said. He pulled on my hand harder. My elbow groaned in protest. 

“Fine, we can go over there. But no touching,” I negotiated. 

As we approached the car, I felt my stomach flip flop again. My palms had started to sweat and my mouth felt dry. Something deep within me was telling me to stay far away. When we got within arm's length of the car, I dropped Auggie's hand. The cool autumn air had seemed to grow even colder the closer we got to the oddly placed hunk of metal. 

*Cough-cough* Between coughs that vibrated through his chest, a smile started to form on the boy's face. Had it been under any other circumstance, the smile might’ve seemed genuine. This smile was sinister though. It stretched too wide. Took up too much of his face. As Auggie reached a hand towards the car, reflexively I took a step back. Snap! A twig broke underfoot. His gaze snapped up to me. Under the shade of the trees his eyes looked…sunken and bruised. 

“M-maybe we should keep going. The stream isn’t too far from here.” I stuttered. 

“Yeah, I guess we can go.” Auggie pulled his hand back from the car. The smile fell away into a look of apathy. The wavering of his personality struck me as odd, but not necessarily anything I needed to worry about.

Instead of walking side-by-side, hand-in-hand, Auggie walked behind me. At first, I walked with confidence - marching towards our destination. The birds are no longer chirping, I thought. Looking back on it, I wondered how long it had been since they fell silent. I felt the hairs raise on the back of my neck. Each crunch and snap caused me to jump. Something felt wrong. The woods felt too quiet. It felt like we were making too much noise. I wanted to turn around at that moment. I don’t know why I didn’t. For some reason, I just kept pushing through. 

“We can stop here if you’d like. I can tell that this is starting to really bring up some hard emotions,” Shaunda said and adjusted her glasses. 

“No, this is always the point where we stop. I have to just keep pushing if I want to make any progress.” 

“Okay, so what happened at the stream?” Shaunda’s prompting sent me back down the rabbit-hole yet again.

“He had started coughing again. Really, really badly,” I began. 

The stream truly hadn’t been much farther. I’d say we walked for maybe another ten minutes or so. When the coughing began, I just thought it was his asthma acting up again. I knew that physical activity made his condition worse, but I thought our slow pace would have made it a little easier. Auggie had doubled over, clutching at his chest while he hacked up a lung. The fear that I had been feeling coalesced into a burst of action. I ran over to him. 

Just as I had placed my hand on Auggie’s shoulder, the coughing stopped. He stood up straight, the sinister smile back on his face. The bruised bags returning under his eyes. I felt his hands on my shoulders, and then I was falling. My back slammed against the large rocks and boulders that lay at the bottom of the stream. Ice cold water splashed up around me, covering my face. I didn’t have enough time to catch my breath. The wind was knocked out of me on impact. 

Auggie was on top of me, holding me down. The surface of the water was disturbed by my struggling. It kept me from clearly seeing his face, but I knew. I knew that if I could see him, that he would be smiling that same unnerving smile I had seen just moments before. I thrashed and I kicked, trying to find some way for my face to reach the surface. I needed air. I hadn’t had a chance to hold my breath, and this wasn’t a game. 

“MARIAAAAA,” Devin’s voice was the first thing I heard as I was finally pulled out of the water. 

Auggie was still standing above me. This time his face was full of genuine fear and concern. As soon as I made it back onto my feet, he quickly released my arms and stepped back. His entire body was trembling and he kept apologizing over and over and over. When the sounds of Devin’s approach grew louder, Auggie took off. He bolted back the way we came without so much as a second glance. 

I wanted to cry at that moment, unsure of what had just happened. When my brother's face appeared from behind a tree, the tears that had formed in my eyes suddenly dried up. No matter what, I couldn’t let him see me weak. I couldn’t let him see me cry. Trying to brush the mud from my body, I took a shaky step forward. A shock of pain shot through my back and arm, causing me to wince. 

“What the hell happened to you?” Devin asked. “Wait, where’s Auggie?” 

“Oh, um, I fell. And Auggie went home a little while ago,” I lied.  

“Hm. Weird, but okay. Let’s go. It’s time for dinner.” 

The walk back to the house was cold and painful. My mother took one look at me, and fury bloomed behind her eyes. Her voice switched from a tone of sweetness to that of absolute hatred. I was a ‘mess of a child that had ruined dinner and would no longer be eating with the family’. After I cleaned up the mud I had tracked through the house, I was supposed to shower and then eat. 

Looking into the bathroom mirror, I saw that my back was covered with many bruises that had started to form. They ranged in size but would all eventually turn so dark they’d almost look black. Slipping into my pajamas, I winced as they brushed across my skin. When I got down to the kitchen, my mother was waiting for me at the table. The rest of the family was sent to bed, so that they wouldn’t witness my punishment. 

Waiting for me was a can of cold asparagus. Mother knew that this was the one food that I absolutely hated. She had already opened the can and had placed a fork next to it. I gulped audibly as I took hesitant steps forward. Instead of wild rage, my mother wore a look of cold hatred. That was a much scarier appearance to me. 

“You will sit here and eat the whole can. I will watch you so you don’t worm your way out this time. Your dad isn’t going to be coming to save you.” 

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t my fault. I wanted to tell her about what had happened out in the woods. Nothing I could have said at that moment would have changed her mind. So instead, I sat down. The first bite caused me to gag. The asparagus was slimy, squishy, and smelled like rot. 

“Please, mama. Please don’t make me eat it all,” I cried. 

“If you do not eat it all, I will personally shove it down your throat. I don’t think you want that, do you?” My mother hissed. 

Plugging my nose with one hand, I used the other to shovel the disgusting and cold vegetable into my mouth. Mashing my teeth together wildly, I tried my best to ignore the taste and texture as I swallowed. The gag hit me hard, sending part of the masticated mess back up my throat. I swallowed multiple times and stood up from the table. The can was empty. 

“Good girl, now go right to bed.” That was all my mother said as she walked away. 

Clutching a hand to my mouth, I ran up the stairs. As quietly as one can, I heaved up my stomach contents into the toilet and then brushed my teeth. Mother’s punishments were always cruel and never seemed to make sense. She would tell me every so often that I should be grateful. Grateful that at least she didn’t hit me like her parents did to her. I just wanted this day to be over. Sleep was difficult for me that night. I tossed and turned, nightmare after nightmare plaguing me. Drowning while my friend smiled above me. 

Auggie didn’t come to school for a while. He had come down with a very serious case of pneumonia, which had put him in the hospital. Although I was afraid of him now, I wanted to see him. I wanted to know why he had done that to me. It had been almost two weeks by the time I saw him again. When I got to lunch that day, there he was at the table like usual. Ninja Turtle lunchbox sitting open with a sandwich in his hand. 

“Uh, hi Auggie.” I sat down. 

He looked up at me for a moment. There was a look of confusion that quickly turned back to his usual apathy. His eyes still looked sunken, and his skin was paler than normal. Aside from that he seemed healthy. The practically finished sandwich told me that he must have been feeling fine. Not wanting to deal with the fact that he was very obviously ignoring me, I stood up from the table and decided to eat while standing by the trash cans. It made exiting the lunchroom a lot easier when the bell rang since they were close to the door. 

When I took the bus home that afternoon, Auggie was standing at the front of the line. I raised my hand to wave at him, and he did the same. Without speaking to each other, we walked up the stairs once the door squeaked open. Footsteps thudded like usual, echoing lightly. He must have to go to his grandma's house again, I thought as I sat down. The pleather seat hissed as our butts depressed the tired cushion. 

Before the bus rolled out of the school, I turned to look at Auggie. His dark circles had grown more intense than they were at lunch. Opening my mouth for a moment, I took in a breath. Before I could speak, the look of tiredness on his face stopped me in my tracks. Instead, I looked out the window and studied the scenery. As the cattails appeared, I heard Auggie speak. 

“Don’t forget to hold your breath.” 

As the cemetery burst into full view, I saw that the person who I’d seen holding the shovel was a man. He looked really old, older than my mamaw and papaw and really sick. Silver hair and wrinkled skin were easy to see as he stood by the edge of the road. I felt his eyes burn into me as I peeked out of the window. Dark blue crescent moons hung under his droopy eyes. He still held the shovel in one hand, and waved slowly with the other. I did not wave back, too focused on not breaking the rule.

When we finally reached the edge of the dense woods, I let out the breath I had been holding. As I expelled the air, I turned to face Auggie. He was sitting in the seat with his eyes closed. He looked just as sick and tired as the man with the shovel. I wanted to pat his shoulder and ask if he was okay, but decided not to. 

When the bus stopped in front of Auggie’s grandma’s house, he stood up silently and walked towards the front of the bus. Like last time, he paused to look back at me. The sinister smile grew upon his face. I shivered in my seat and broke my gaze. Without looking up, I heard the thundering of feet as kids hopped down the stairs and exited the bus. The doors hissed as they closed and then we were back on the move.   

“Was that the last time you saw young August?” Shaunda asked. 

“Well, yes and no. I went to his funeral. It wasn’t until later that I found out what happened. For years I had wondered why we moved so abruptly after the start of fifth grade. I think it was a wakeup call for dad, what happened to Auggie. He probably thought that it could have been me, who had been found dead in the fort. They said it was an asthma attack, that he’d run away from home and forgot his inhaler. I don’t know if I believe that, though. Not entirely.” 

“What makes you say that, Maria?” Shaunda asked. 

I panned my eyes from Shaunda’s face, to the space just behind her chair. Eleven year old Auggie stood behind her, his face forever frozen in time. His mouth moved in a way that I understood all too well. He always said the same thing over and over and over. A ghost that forever reminds me of the most important rule to ever enter my life. 

“Don’t forget to hold your breath.” 

The back of the bus always wafted with the vague scent of vomit. No matter how many times it was cleaned, the strange grey pleather was left alone in one row. No one wanted to sit where Janey Russel had thrown up at the beginning of the school year. I had to unstick my shoes from the floor to turn and face my friend.

“Don’t forget to hold your breath when we pass by the cemetery.” I warned them. We had met for the first time a few weeks ago. 

The sun was starting to feel less blistering, and the air had grown a bit cooler. Most of the bus’ windows were down. The people inside enjoyed the breath of fresh air. Green leaves had traded themselves for shades of yellow and red.

“Why? Does it smell?” They asked me.

“Well, sometimes. But that’s not what’s important. Come on, you have to trust me!” I said. 

“But, Maria, I can't hold my breath so well…” Auggie furrowed his brow. 

“Just DO it, Auggie!” 

I took in as deep of a breath as possible. I felt my chest and tummy expand as they filled with air. Pinching my nose with my fingers, I puffed my cheeks out like balloons. The muscles ached as they stretched to accommodate. Auggie looked concerned but followed suit. We had made it just in time, as the bus rounded the corner. Cattails and overgrown grass gave way to headstones speckled with moss. 

Even from my spot on the bus, I felt the air change. It felt ten degrees cooler and somehow heavier. I half expected to see frost on the ground, but the grass looked vibrant and dry. Some of the headstones we passed by were large statues, while others were what you’d typically see in the decoration section of a party store during Halloween. Off in the distance, I saw someone planting a shovel into the ground. A funeral will be happening soon, I thought. 

Suddenly, the bus swerved. Grabbing onto Auggie’s arm, I turned back in the seat to face him. His freckled face had started to turn red. The unexpected jostling of the bus mixed with the fact that he had asthma was a deadly combo. Reaching my hand up with ninja-like reflexes, I clamped my palm over his mouth.  

“Sorry kids, there was a pot-hole!” The bus driver announced over the radio. The speakers buzzed as they let off the button of the microphone . 

I felt my own lungs start to scream as I looked anxiously at Auggie. His eyes widened as he started to give up. Just a little longer and it will be over. The hand that wasn’t over Auggie’s mouth, was clutching one of his tightly. I felt his fingers buckle beneath my grip, causing me to release him ever so slightly. I could feel Auggie’s warm breath on my fingers as he started to exhale. Air was escaping from my lips as well. 

The scenery outside the window shifted from the aged cemetery to a thick patch of trees. They grew so close together that it almost drowned out the sun entirely. If it weren’t for the blue sky showing through the windows on the other side of the bus, I’d have thought we passed through a tunnel. After I quickly expelled the air I’d been holding, I sucked in another deep breath. Chest heaving as I scrambled for oxygen. 

“Why,” Auggie wheezed, “did you make me do that?” 

“What do you mean? Haven’t you ridden the bus before?” I looked at him with my head cocked to the side, still trying to catch my breath. 

“Uhm no…” Auggie reached into his pocket and produced a grey and blue cylindrical piece of plastic. He shook the thing, which made a similar sound to spray paint or a whipped cream can. The blue end was placed into Auggie’s waiting mouth. A hiss, a puff, and an inhale later, Auggie finally looked like he was starting to feel better. His shoulders no longer rose and fell dramatically, and the wheezing disappeared. 

“Oh, yeah. I forgot that this is your first time,” I frowned. “What’s that thing?” 

“My inhaler. I have asthma, remember? This is the medicine that helps me breathe better,” Auggie replied while shoving it back in his pocket. 

“Ewwww, look! Auggie and Maria are holding hands. Maria is practically a guy, so that’s GAY!” Marissa shouted. She was kneeling on her seat, pointing at us. Marissa was one of the only people who dared bully me. She was one of the few girls at the school who I knew was capable of beating me in a fight. We had been friends once, but that is a story for another time. 

“Maria and Auggie sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!” Kayla, Marissa’s new best friend, had decided to join in on the taunting. Kayla would end up getting her ass whooped soon, very soon. 

I giggled at the thought of the word ass. It was one of the many things I wasn’t allowed to say, even though I heard it at home all the time. My mother had a mouth worse than any trucker I’ve ever met, and there were a lot who passed through our small town. She was a harsh woman - in more ways than one. Even though I wasn’t bothered by what the girls were saying about me, it pissed me off that Auggie was being dragged into the mix. He was my first friend since my breakup with Marissa. 

“You guys better shut the HELL up!” I roared with ferocity. 

“Or what? Huh? What are YOU gonna do?” Marissa pointed her ugly brown eyes at me. 

I figured, if I got violent or popped off threats then my attempt to stop the harassment would backfire. So, I decided to use my brain, and think of another way out. A lightbulb flashed over my head. I knew what she was really after, and what she was bothered by. I knew her better than she knew herself. If I was going to use my words instead of using my fists, I had to go for the throat. 

“I’m not going to DO anything, actually. You’re just jealous, aren’t you?” I paused and sighed for dramatic affect. “I actually have a friend who likes me, while you’re just surrounded by air-heads with money. Loser.” 

The bus erupted into a chaos of laughter and kids saying ‘ooooh that was a sick burn’. I felt pride well up within my core as I sat back down in my seat. Auggie peered up at me, looking shocked . His expression confused me. For a second, neither one of us said anything. 

“You’re a girl?” Auggie finally asked. 

“Last time I checked, yeah. I mean, come on, my name is Maria?”

“Yeah, but boys can have girly names sometimes…” Auggie sounded like he even doubted himself. 

Growing up poor in the middle of nowhere with two older brothers did nothing to help my case. Most of the clothes I wore were hand-me-downs from Devin and Nick, same with my shoes. Grass stains covered my knees and dirt permanently resided under my fingernails. My hair was short and choppy after a mishap with the kitchen scissors - it was dark brown and looked like half a coconut. 

“But, we bonded over the Ninja Turtles…” Auggie’s voice trailed off. 

“Yeah, dummy. Girls can like the Ninja Turtles too.” 

That was how we became friends. At the beginning of fifth grade, I met Auggie in the cafeteria during lunch. Marissa and I had stopped being friends during the summer, which had left me as some kind of leper. No one wanted to sit with me. No one wanted to get involved in the drama. That was when I spotted a lone kid sitting at a table in the middle of the room. I watched as he pulled a tinfoil wrapped PB&J from a metal lunchbox. On the front of it was one of my favorite comics.

“Who’s your favorite?” I asked as I pointed at the lid. 

“Um…Donnie.” The boy replied. He looked up at me through thick blond curls that fell into his eyes. 

“Mine is Raphael. He’s so cool and my favorite color is red. Mind if I sit here and eat?” I was already lowering my butt onto the bench. 

“Who’s your favorite villain?” The boy asked me softly.

“That's a good one…” I thought for a second before responding. “Probably Bebop or Rocksteady. What about you?”

“I like Rahzar. I like that they are also a turtle, just the snapping kind.” 

Pretty soon after that, we finally introduced ourselves. Becoming friends was a quick and easy process for the both of us. Even though we were in different classes, we would always unite during lunch and recess. I guess it had never dawned on me to express that I was a girl - I figured it didn’t matter. 

Usually, Auggie got picked up by his parents after school, but both of them had been stuck at work. Thankfully for us, Auggie’s grandma lived in the area where my bus traveled. For the first time, we would have time together off of school grounds. Even if it was only for ten or fifteen minutes. 

“Are you gonna tell me why you made me hold my breath?” Auggie asked while tugging on my sleeve. 

“I don’t really know. I heard it from the older kids when I was in kindergarten and I’ve been doing it ever since. We all do,” I said, while gesturing around the bus. 

“The bus driver didn’t,” Auggie retorted. 

“Well, she’s not a kid.” I stuck my tongue out at him. 

“Fine, fine, I give.” Auggie held his hands up in defeat. 

I felt a smile grow on my face. Even though it was a silly argument, it felt good to win. It was rare that I won at anything other than using my fists. My fighting skills were also courtesy of my brothers. They showed no mercy, especially to me. Said it was something about teaching me to defend myself. Looking back, all it taught me was that violence was the answer. 

“Wanna come over and play videogames?” Auggie asked. 

I hadn’t realized that I had gotten lost in my thoughts. Auggie’s voice had startled me. I was so used to sitting in the seat alone. Unbothered for the most part, unless Marissa was in a mood. How unlucky for me that she also lived in the same area. I wanted to stick my tongue out and go blegh but restrained myself. 

“Thanks, but no thanks. Mom is still at work and I’m not allowed to go anywhere without her permission.” I frowned at him. 

“Oh man, that’s a bummer. I understand though. My dad can be very strict.” Auggie said, nodding. 

My mother wasn’t just strict. She was something else entirely. A mix between a raging fire and the subzero temperatures during a winter storm. Mother could be loving and caring one minute, then screaming and throwing things the next. I always felt like I had to walk on eggshells. Never knowing what version of her I would find when she came home. My body began to tremble as I thought of my mother.

“Ah yes, take your time, Maria. I know talking about your mother can be hard.” Shaunda, my therapist, looked up from her notebook. She had been moving her hand across the page wildly as I spoke. Now, she studied my face while hers remained blank. 

“I don’t understand why my dad stayed with her for so long. I wish he would have divorced her sooner. Maybe I wouldn’t be having such a visceral reaction right now, if he had.” I leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Okay, so, why don’t we pivot. Tell me about the next time Auggie rode the bus with you. What was so special about the second time?” 

Although I was grateful for the change in mental scenery, I wasn’t sure if this was much better. Trying to center myself, I chased after the white rabbit. Tumbling down into the hole where I kept my darkest memories. The rain was cold and the sky was grey. Most of the leaves had evacuated themselves from the tree branches. It was nearing the end of October, Halloween was only a few days away. 

“I’ll be taking the bus to grandma’s house today,” Auggie had told me at lunch. 

“Fantastic! I can show you the new comics Nick let me borrow,” I grinned at him. “Mom finally said we could hang out soon. She said you could come over, as long as your parents are okay with it?” 

“Maybe we can plan something for Saturday?” Auggie asked while taking a bite from his sandwich. PB&J was the only thing this kid seemed to eat. It was much better than the bologna and cheese one that sat in front of me. 

The end of the school day came faster than expected. Usually, when I was excited about something, time seemed to drag on longer than normal. Throwing my coat over my shoulders, I grabbed my backpack and ran for the bus loop. Auggie was already waiting for me when I arrived, a small smile on his lips. He clutched the Ninja Turtles lunchbox with both hands, swinging it back and forth. 

“Ready to go?” Auggie asked. 

I nodded and headed for the stairs. His curly blonde hair bobbed up and down as he followed behind closely. Our footsteps thundered as we climbed onto the bus. The seat that I always sat in was waiting near the back, empty. Checking the ground for obstacles, I walked down the aisle. The seat groaned in protest as we dropped into it. 

“You remember what I told you last time?” I looked at Auggie with concern in my eyes. 

“Yes, Maria. I will remember to hold my breath.” Auggie grinned at me, proud of himself. 

“That’s a good boy,” I ruffled his hair like he was a dog. 

“Okay! Now show me the comics! I’ve been excited since you told me about them at lunch,” Auggie said. 

As the bus took off from its parking spot, I pulled the fragile magazine-like books from my backpack. We flipped through them with animated expressions, ooh-ing and ahh-ing as we went. That was, until we approached the cemetery. Once the cattails sprang into view, I shut the comic and prepared myself for the deep breath. Auggie did the same as last time, mimicking my every move. 

I felt my heartbeat travel through my entire body as I clenched my muscles. I was already feeling pressure build in my head - my cheeks puffing out wildly, like a chipmunk. The familiar sight of headstones and mausoleums filled the windowpane. An almost tangible fog rolled across the ground below. I felt a shiver pass through my body. The person that I’d seen digging the grave the last time Auggie rode the bus with me was standing with the shovel and facing the road. It felt like they were staring directly at me. 

I felt myself wavering at that moment. The shock of seeing the person with the shovel almost caused me to gasp. Instead, I wrapped my lips over my teeth and bit down hard. My nostrils flared against the thumb and pointer finger that pinched my nose closed. Not wanting to let fear force me into a mistake, I focused my gaze. I was going to watch the person standing with the shovel the entire way. I would not let them break me. 

That was when the bus slammed into the pot-hole the driver had avoided many times before. The road had worn away, creating a bigger and deeper hole than before. Then, I heard the sharp inhale of a breath from behind me. I felt the color drain from my face as I turned around to look at Auggie. He was breathing raggedly and clutching at his chest. My narrowed eyes had widened slowly as I processed. Auggie broke the rule. 

“You big dummy!” I cried out as the cemetery disappeared from view. 

“It was an accident… The pot-hole scared me so bad! I thought I was gonna die.” Auggie took a puff from the inhaler, holding it in for a moment before exhaling. 

“Something bad is going to happen now,” I said softly. 

“Like what?” Auggie’s tone seemed snarky. 

“I don’t know, but something very very bad is going to happen.” I realized at that moment that I truly didn’t know what was going to happen. I had never been told what the repercussion was for breaking the rule. Just that you never wanted to do it. My eyes darted around the bus, wondering if anyone else had noticed. Thankfully, they hadn’t. 

“It’s probably fine, Maria. Just a silly superstition.” Auggie went back to reading the comics. 

We spent the rest of the ride flipping through the pages in silence. The chatter on the bus disappeared quietly into the background. Even though I turned the pages every so often, I wasn’t reading them. Something felt off. Something felt wrong. I just didn’t know what. Pretty soon after, it was Auggie’s stop. We said our goodbyes and promised to hang out on Saturday. Before he got off the bus, Auggie stopped at the end of the aisle and took one last look at me before stepping down the stairs. 

Saturday had started off in the best way possible. When I came out of my room to eat breakfast, I heard my mother humming one of her favorite songs. It smelled like pancakes and bacon, the scent made my mouth water as I approached. Devin and Nick were already at the table, fighting over who got the largest pancake. While they weren’t looking, I snatched one from the plate and shoved it in my mouth. 

“Boys, make sure you keep an eye on your sister while her friend is over. We don’t need her getting into trouble when we have company.” Even though my mother’s tone was nice and warm, she spat daggers from her mouth. I may be the youngest, but I was more emotionally aware than anyone else in the family. I knew what she was really saying. ‘Make sure she doesn’t make a fool of me or this family’. 

“Ugh, seriously? You’re gonna make us babysit?” Devin groaned. 

“I’m just gonna take Auggie out to the woods where I built my fort!” I shouted excitedly at my brothers. 

When Auggie arrived, I was already waiting outside. His mother was sitting in the driver’s seat, her hair a poofy blond bird’s nest. He looked a lot like her, even down to the cool and dreary expression. She waved at me from inside the car and let her son out. I waved back robotically before sprinting towards my friend. 

“I’m so glad you are here! I can’t wait to show you all the cool things in my backyard.” I grabbed Auggie by the hand and dragged him alongside me. 

The fort was nothing special, looking back on it. Just a bundle of sticks, a few fallen trees, and a couple of tarps. I was lucky that it had not fallen on top of me - a disaster waiting to happen. I pulled back the tarp that served as a door and beckoned my friend to enter. He had to crouch down so that his head didn’t hit the top of the twig covered roof. Both of us sat down with our legs crossed, letting our eyes travel through the masterpiece I had built. 

“What’s this place for?” Auggie asked. 

“It’s my place to hide when mom is having one of her moments. It’s a place to get away from my brothers when they are picking on me too much. It’s a place where I can truly be myself.” I smiled meekly at Auggie. 

“I wish I had a fort…” Auggie’s voice trailed off. 

“This can be your fort too! You can come here whenever you want!” I clapped my hands together excitedly. 

A cough. Another cough. Auggie clutched at his chest. His breathing started to grow ragged and forced. As he dug around in his pocket for the inhaler, another cough wracked his body. A puff and an inhale later, and Auggie's breathing started to steady. I felt my stomach clench - a feeling passing through me that I couldn’t identify. Shaking myself out, I stood up from the ground and offered my hand. My friend took it gratefully and I pulled him to his feet. 

“Where to next?” Auggie asked while exiting the fort. 

“Let’s go down to the stream!” I shouted excitedly.  

Mud squished under our feet as we walked. It made a sucking sound as we pulled our shoes out for the next step. Piles of pine needles and grass patches were the only safe places to walk, but they were few and far between. I didn’t mind the mud, but Auggie struggled with it as we continued forward. After a few paces, we would get to our first landmark. On a small hill in the distance was the rusted shell of a car with a tree growing through the middle of it. 

I wasn’t sure what kind of car it was, but I knew it looked older than any vehicle I had ever seen. The front end of the car - where the engine should have been - was empty, and the cab was missing its seats. Red paint flaked off the frame, and there were no doors on either side. I had always wondered how a car had made it out this far into the woods, and how it could have fit through all the trees. I did know one thing though, it scared me. There was something creepy about the way it didn’t belong. I made sure to stay as far away as possible while on my way to the stream. 

“Holy CRAP. Is that what I think it is?” Auggie pulled on my hand. 

“No.” I planted my feet firmly. 

“Why not?” One of his blond eyebrows raised. 

“Because it’s scary, and because I said ‘no’.” I scowled at Auggie. 

“I’m going to go touch it,” Auggie said. He pulled on my hand harder. My elbow groaned in protest. 

“Fine, we can go over there. But no touching,” I negotiated. 

As we approached the car, I felt my stomach flip flop again. My palms had started to sweat and my mouth felt dry. Something deep within me was telling me to stay far away. When we got within arm's length of the car, I dropped Auggie's hand. The cool autumn air had seemed to grow even colder the closer we got to the oddly placed hunk of metal. 

*Cough-cough* Between coughs that vibrated through his chest, a smile started to form on the boy's face. Had it been under any other circumstance, the smile might’ve seemed genuine. This smile was sinister though. It stretched too wide. Took up too much of his face. As Auggie reached a hand towards the car, reflexively I took a step back. Snap! A twig broke underfoot. His gaze snapped up to me. Under the shade of the trees his eyes looked…sunken and bruised. 

“M-maybe we should keep going. The stream isn’t too far from here.” I stuttered. 

“Yeah, I guess we can go.” Auggie pulled his hand back from the car. The smile fell away into a look of apathy. The wavering of his personality struck me as odd, but not necessarily anything I needed to worry about.

Instead of walking side-by-side, hand-in-hand, Auggie walked behind me. At first, I walked with confidence - marching towards our destination. The birds are no longer chirping, I thought. Looking back on it, I wondered how long it had been since they fell silent. I felt the hairs raise on the back of my neck. Each crunch and snap caused me to jump. Something felt wrong. The woods felt too quiet. It felt like we were making too much noise. I wanted to turn around at that moment. I don’t know why I didn’t. For some reason, I just kept pushing through. 

“We can stop here if you’d like. I can tell that this is starting to really bring up some hard emotions,” Shaunda said and adjusted her glasses. 

“No, this is always the point where we stop. I have to just keep pushing if I want to make any progress.” 

“Okay, so what happened at the stream?” Shaunda’s prompting sent me back down the rabbit-hole yet again.

“He had started coughing again. Really, really badly,” I began. 

The stream truly hadn’t been much farther. I’d say we walked for maybe another ten minutes or so. When the coughing began, I just thought it was his asthma acting up again. I knew that physical activity made his condition worse, but I thought our slow pace would have made it a little easier. Auggie had doubled over, clutching at his chest while he hacked up a lung. The fear that I had been feeling coalesced into a burst of action. I ran over to him. 

Just as I had placed my hand on Auggie’s shoulder, the coughing stopped. He stood up straight, the sinister smile back on his face. The bruised bags returning under his eyes. I felt his hands on my shoulders, and then I was falling. My back slammed against the large rocks and boulders that lay at the bottom of the stream. Ice cold water splashed up around me, covering my face. I didn’t have enough time to catch my breath. The wind was knocked out of me on impact. 

Auggie was on top of me, holding me down. The surface of the water was disturbed by my struggling. It kept me from clearly seeing his face, but I knew. I knew that if I could see him, that he would be smiling that same unnerving smile I had seen just moments before. I thrashed and I kicked, trying to find some way for my face to reach the surface. I needed air. I hadn’t had a chance to hold my breath, and this wasn’t a game. 

“MARIAAAAA,” Devin’s voice was the first thing I heard as I was finally pulled out of the water. 

Auggie was still standing above me. This time his face was full of genuine fear and concern. As soon as I made it back onto my feet, he quickly released my arms and stepped back. His entire body was trembling and he kept apologizing over and over and over. When the sounds of Devin’s approach grew louder, Auggie took off. He bolted back the way we came without so much as a second glance. 

I wanted to cry at that moment, unsure of what had just happened. When my brother's face appeared from behind a tree, the tears that had formed in my eyes suddenly dried up. No matter what, I couldn’t let him see me weak. I couldn’t let him see me cry. Trying to brush the mud from my body, I took a shaky step forward. A shock of pain shot through my back and arm, causing me to wince. 

“What the hell happened to you?” Devin asked. “Wait, where’s Auggie?” 

“Oh, um, I fell. And Auggie went home a little while ago,” I lied.  

“Hm. Weird, but okay. Let’s go. It’s time for dinner.” 

The walk back to the house was cold and painful. My mother took one look at me, and fury bloomed behind her eyes. Her voice switched from a tone of sweetness to that of absolute hatred. I was a ‘mess of a child that had ruined dinner and would no longer be eating with the family’. After I cleaned up the mud I had tracked through the house, I was supposed to shower and then eat. 

Looking into the bathroom mirror, I saw that my back was covered with many bruises that had started to form. They ranged in size but would all eventually turn so dark they’d almost look black. Slipping into my pajamas, I winced as they brushed across my skin. When I got down to the kitchen, my mother was waiting for me at the table. The rest of the family was sent to bed, so that they wouldn’t witness my punishment. 

Waiting for me was a can of cold asparagus. Mother knew that this was the one food that I absolutely hated. She had already opened the can and had placed a fork next to it. I gulped audibly as I took hesitant steps forward. Instead of wild rage, my mother wore a look of cold hatred. That was a much scarier appearance to me. 

“You will sit here and eat the whole can. I will watch you so you don’t worm your way out this time. Your dad isn’t going to be coming to save you.” 

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t my fault. I wanted to tell her about what had happened out in the woods. Nothing I could have said at that moment would have changed her mind. So instead, I sat down. The first bite caused me to gag. The asparagus was slimy, squishy, and smelled like rot. 

“Please, mama. Please don’t make me eat it all,” I cried. 

“If you do not eat it all, I will personally shove it down your throat. I don’t think you want that, do you?” My mother hissed. 

Plugging my nose with one hand, I used the other to shovel the disgusting and cold vegetable into my mouth. Mashing my teeth together wildly, I tried my best to ignore the taste and texture as I swallowed. The gag hit me hard, sending part of the masticated mess back up my throat. I swallowed multiple times and stood up from the table. The can was empty. 

“Good girl, now go right to bed.” That was all my mother said as she walked away. 

Clutching a hand to my mouth, I ran up the stairs. As quietly as one can, I heaved up my stomach contents into the toilet and then brushed my teeth. Mother’s punishments were always cruel and never seemed to make sense. She would tell me every so often that I should be grateful. Grateful that at least she didn’t hit me like her parents did to her. I just wanted this day to be over. Sleep was difficult for me that night. I tossed and turned, nightmare after nightmare plaguing me. Drowning while my friend smiled above me. 

Auggie didn’t come to school for a while. He had come down with a very serious case of pneumonia, which had put him in the hospital. Although I was afraid of him now, I wanted to see him. I wanted to know why he had done that to me. It had been almost two weeks by the time I saw him again. When I got to lunch that day, there he was at the table like usual. Ninja Turtle lunchbox sitting open with a sandwich in his hand. 

“Uh, hi Auggie.” I sat down. 

He looked up at me for a moment. There was a look of confusion that quickly turned back to his usual apathy. His eyes still looked sunken, and his skin was paler than normal. Aside from that he seemed healthy. The practically finished sandwich told me that he must have been feeling fine. Not wanting to deal with the fact that he was very obviously ignoring me, I stood up from the table and decided to eat while standing by the trash cans. It made exiting the lunchroom a lot easier when the bell rang since they were close to the door. 

When I took the bus home that afternoon, Auggie was standing at the front of the line. I raised my hand to wave at him, and he did the same. Without speaking to each other, we walked up the stairs once the door squeaked open. Footsteps thudded like usual, echoing lightly. He must have to go to his grandma's house again, I thought as I sat down. The pleather seat hissed as our butts depressed the tired cushion. 

Before the bus rolled out of the school, I turned to look at Auggie. His dark circles had grown more intense than they were at lunch. Opening my mouth for a moment, I took in a breath. Before I could speak, the look of tiredness on his face stopped me in my tracks. Instead, I looked out the window and studied the scenery. As the cattails appeared, I heard Auggie speak. 

“Don’t forget to hold your breath.” 

As the cemetery burst into full view, I saw that the person who I’d seen holding the shovel was a man. He looked really old, older than my mamaw and papaw and really sick. Silver hair and wrinkled skin were easy to see as he stood by the edge of the road. I felt his eyes burn into me as I peeked out of the window. Dark blue crescent moons hung under his droopy eyes. He still held the shovel in one hand, and waved slowly with the other. I did not wave back, too focused on not breaking the rule.

When we finally reached the edge of the dense woods, I let out the breath I had been holding. As I expelled the air, I turned to face Auggie. He was sitting in the seat with his eyes closed. He looked just as sick and tired as the man with the shovel. I wanted to pat his shoulder and ask if he was okay, but decided not to. 

When the bus stopped in front of Auggie’s grandma’s house, he stood up silently and walked towards the front of the bus. Like last time, he paused to look back at me. The sinister smile grew upon his face. I shivered in my seat and broke my gaze. Without looking up, I heard the thundering of feet as kids hopped down the stairs and exited the bus. The doors hissed as they closed and then we were back on the move.   

“Was that the last time you saw young August?” Shaunda asked. 

“Well, yes and no. I went to his funeral. It wasn’t until later that I found out what happened. For years I had wondered why we moved so abruptly after the start of fifth grade. I think it was a wakeup call for dad, what happened to Auggie. He probably thought that it could have been me, who had been found dead in the fort. They said it was an asthma attack, that he’d run away from home and forgot his inhaler. I don’t know if I believe that, though. Not entirely.” 

“What makes you say that, Maria?” Shaunda asked. 

I panned my eyes from Shaunda’s face, to the space just behind her chair. Eleven year old Auggie stood behind her, his face forever frozen in time. His mouth moved in a way that I understood all too well. He always said the same thing over and over and over. A ghost that forever reminds me of the most important rule to ever enter my life. 

“Don’t forget to hold your breath.” 

The back of the bus always wafted with the vague scent of vomit. No matter how many times it was cleaned, the strange grey pleather was left alone in one row. No one wanted to sit where Janey Russel had thrown up at the beginning of the school year. I had to unstick my shoes from the floor to turn and face my friend.

“Don’t forget to hold your breath when we pass by the cemetery.” I warned them. We had met for the first time a few weeks ago. 

The sun was starting to feel less blistering, and the air had grown a bit cooler. Most of the bus’ windows were down. The people inside enjoyed the breath of fresh air. Green leaves had traded themselves for shades of yellow and red.

“Why? Does it smell?” They asked me.

“Well, sometimes. But that’s not what’s important. Come on, you have to trust me!” I said. 

“But, Maria, I can't hold my breath so well…” Auggie furrowed his brow. 

“Just DO it, Auggie!” 

I took in as deep of a breath as possible. I felt my chest and tummy expand as they filled with air. Pinching my nose with my fingers, I puffed my cheeks out like balloons. The muscles ached as they stretched to accommodate. Auggie looked concerned but followed suit. We had made it just in time, as the bus rounded the corner. Cattails and overgrown grass gave way to headstones speckled with moss. 

Even from my spot on the bus, I felt the air change. It felt ten degrees cooler and somehow heavier. I half expected to see frost on the ground, but the grass looked vibrant and dry. Some of the headstones we passed by were large statues, while others were what you’d typically see in the decoration section of a party store during Halloween. Off in the distance, I saw someone planting a shovel into the ground. A funeral will be happening soon, I thought. 

Suddenly, the bus swerved. Grabbing onto Auggie’s arm, I turned back in the seat to face him. His freckled face had started to turn red. The unexpected jostling of the bus mixed with the fact that he had asthma was a deadly combo. Reaching my hand up with ninja-like reflexes, I clamped my palm over his mouth.  

“Sorry kids, there was a pot-hole!” The bus driver announced over the radio. The speakers buzzed as they let off the button of the microphone . 

I felt my own lungs start to scream as I looked anxiously at Auggie. His eyes widened as he started to give up. Just a little longer and it will be over. The hand that wasn’t over Auggie’s mouth, was clutching one of his tightly. I felt his fingers buckle beneath my grip, causing me to release him ever so slightly. I could feel Auggie’s warm breath on my fingers as he started to exhale. Air was escaping from my lips as well. 

The scenery outside the window shifted from the aged cemetery to a thick patch of trees. They grew so close together that it almost drowned out the sun entirely. If it weren’t for the blue sky showing through the windows on the other side of the bus, I’d have thought we passed through a tunnel. After I quickly expelled the air I’d been holding, I sucked in another deep breath. Chest heaving as I scrambled for oxygen. 

“Why,” Auggie wheezed, “did you make me do that?” 

“What do you mean? Haven’t you ridden the bus before?” I looked at him with my head cocked to the side, still trying to catch my breath. 

“Uhm no…” Auggie reached into his pocket and produced a grey and blue cylindrical piece of plastic. He shook the thing, which made a similar sound to spray paint or a whipped cream can. The blue end was placed into Auggie’s waiting mouth. A hiss, a puff, and an inhale later, Auggie finally looked like he was starting to feel better. His shoulders no longer rose and fell dramatically, and the wheezing disappeared. 

“Oh, yeah. I forgot that this is your first time,” I frowned. “What’s that thing?” 

“My inhaler. I have asthma, remember? This is the medicine that helps me breathe better,” Auggie replied while shoving it back in his pocket. 

“Ewwww, look! Auggie and Maria are holding hands. Maria is practically a guy, so that’s GAY!” Marissa shouted. She was kneeling on her seat, pointing at us. Marissa was one of the only people who dared bully me. She was one of the few girls at the school who I knew was capable of beating me in a fight. We had been friends once, but that is a story for another time. 

“Maria and Auggie sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!” Kayla, Marissa’s new best friend, had decided to join in on the taunting. Kayla would end up getting her ass whooped soon, very soon. 

I giggled at the thought of the word ass. It was one of the many things I wasn’t allowed to say, even though I heard it at home all the time. My mother had a mouth worse than any trucker I’ve ever met, and there were a lot who passed through our small town. She was a harsh woman - in more ways than one. Even though I wasn’t bothered by what the girls were saying about me, it pissed me off that Auggie was being dragged into the mix. He was my first friend since my breakup with Marissa. 

“You guys better shut the HELL up!” I roared with ferocity. 

“Or what? Huh? What are YOU gonna do?” Marissa pointed her ugly brown eyes at me. 

I figured, if I got violent or popped off threats then my attempt to stop the harassment would backfire. So, I decided to use my brain, and think of another way out. A lightbulb flashed over my head. I knew what she was really after, and what she was bothered by. I knew her better than she knew herself. If I was going to use my words instead of using my fists, I had to go for the throat. 

“I’m not going to DO anything, actually. You’re just jealous, aren’t you?” I paused and sighed for dramatic affect. “I actually have a friend who likes me, while you’re just surrounded by air-heads with money. Loser.” 

The bus erupted into a chaos of laughter and kids saying ‘ooooh that was a sick burn’. I felt pride well up within my core as I sat back down in my seat. Auggie peered up at me, looking shocked . His expression confused me. For a second, neither one of us said anything. 

“You’re a girl?” Auggie finally asked. 

“Last time I checked, yeah. I mean, come on, my name is Maria?”

“Yeah, but boys can have girly names sometimes…” Auggie sounded like he even doubted himself. 

Growing up poor in the middle of nowhere with two older brothers did nothing to help my case. Most of the clothes I wore were hand-me-downs from Devin and Nick, same with my shoes. Grass stains covered my knees and dirt permanently resided under my fingernails. My hair was short and choppy after a mishap with the kitchen scissors - it was dark brown and looked like half a coconut. 

“But, we bonded over the Ninja Turtles…” Auggie’s voice trailed off. 

“Yeah, dummy. Girls can like the Ninja Turtles too.” 

That was how we became friends. At the beginning of fifth grade, I met Auggie in the cafeteria during lunch. Marissa and I had stopped being friends during the summer, which had left me as some kind of leper. No one wanted to sit with me. No one wanted to get involved in the drama. That was when I spotted a lone kid sitting at a table in the middle of the room. I watched as he pulled a tinfoil wrapped PB&J from a metal lunchbox. On the front of it was one of my favorite comics.

“Who’s your favorite?” I asked as I pointed at the lid. 

“Um…Donnie.” The boy replied. He looked up at me through thick blond curls that fell into his eyes. 

“Mine is Raphael. He’s so cool and my favorite color is red. Mind if I sit here and eat?” I was already lowering my butt onto the bench. 

“Who’s your favorite villain?” The boy asked me softly.

“That's a good one…” I thought for a second before responding. “Probably Bebop or Rocksteady. What about you?”

“I like Rahzar. I like that they are also a turtle, just the snapping kind.” 

Pretty soon after that, we finally introduced ourselves. Becoming friends was a quick and easy process for the both of us. Even though we were in different classes, we would always unite during lunch and recess. I guess it had never dawned on me to express that I was a girl - I figured it didn’t matter. 

Usually, Auggie got picked up by his parents after school, but both of them had been stuck at work. Thankfully for us, Auggie’s grandma lived in the area where my bus traveled. For the first time, we would have time together off of school grounds. Even if it was only for ten or fifteen minutes. 

“Are you gonna tell me why you made me hold my breath?” Auggie asked while tugging on my sleeve. 

“I don’t really know. I heard it from the older kids when I was in kindergarten and I’ve been doing it ever since. We all do,” I said, while gesturing around the bus. 

“The bus driver didn’t,” Auggie retorted. 

“Well, she’s not a kid.” I stuck my tongue out at him. 

“Fine, fine, I give.” Auggie held his hands up in defeat. 

I felt a smile grow on my face. Even though it was a silly argument, it felt good to win. It was rare that I won at anything other than using my fists. My fighting skills were also courtesy of my brothers. They showed no mercy, especially to me. Said it was something about teaching me to defend myself. Looking back, all it taught me was that violence was the answer. 

“Wanna come over and play videogames?” Auggie asked. 

I hadn’t realized that I had gotten lost in my thoughts. Auggie’s voice had startled me. I was so used to sitting in the seat alone. Unbothered for the most part, unless Marissa was in a mood. How unlucky for me that she also lived in the same area. I wanted to stick my tongue out and go blegh but restrained myself. 

“Thanks, but no thanks. Mom is still at work and I’m not allowed to go anywhere without her permission.” I frowned at him. 

“Oh man, that’s a bummer. I understand though. My dad can be very strict.” Auggie said, nodding. 

My mother wasn’t just strict. She was something else entirely. A mix between a raging fire and the subzero temperatures during a winter storm. Mother could be loving and caring one minute, then screaming and throwing things the next. I always felt like I had to walk on eggshells. Never knowing what version of her I would find when she came home. My body began to tremble as I thought of my mother.

“Ah yes, take your time, Maria. I know talking about your mother can be hard.” Shaunda, my therapist, looked up from her notebook. She had been moving her hand across the page wildly as I spoke. Now, she studied my face while hers remained blank. 

“I don’t understand why my dad stayed with her for so long. I wish he would have divorced her sooner. Maybe I wouldn’t be having such a visceral reaction right now, if he had.” I leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Okay, so, why don’t we pivot. Tell me about the next time Auggie rode the bus with you. What was so special about the second time?” 

Although I was grateful for the change in mental scenery, I wasn’t sure if this was much better. Trying to center myself, I chased after the white rabbit. Tumbling down into the hole where I kept my darkest memories. The rain was cold and the sky was grey. Most of the leaves had evacuated themselves from the tree branches. It was nearing the end of October, Halloween was only a few days away. 

“I’ll be taking the bus to grandma’s house today,” Auggie had told me at lunch. 

“Fantastic! I can show you the new comics Nick let me borrow,” I grinned at him. “Mom finally said we could hang out soon. She said you could come over, as long as your parents are okay with it?” 

“Maybe we can plan something for Saturday?” Auggie asked while taking a bite from his sandwich. PB&J was the only thing this kid seemed to eat. It was much better than the bologna and cheese one that sat in front of me. 

The end of the school day came faster than expected. Usually, when I was excited about something, time seemed to drag on longer than normal. Throwing my coat over my shoulders, I grabbed my backpack and ran for the bus loop. Auggie was already waiting for me when I arrived, a small smile on his lips. He clutched the Ninja Turtles lunchbox with both hands, swinging it back and forth. 

“Ready to go?” Auggie asked. 

I nodded and headed for the stairs. His curly blonde hair bobbed up and down as he followed behind closely. Our footsteps thundered as we climbed onto the bus. The seat that I always sat in was waiting near the back, empty. Checking the ground for obstacles, I walked down the aisle. The seat groaned in protest as we dropped into it. 

“You remember what I told you last time?” I looked at Auggie with concern in my eyes. 

“Yes, Maria. I will remember to hold my breath.” Auggie grinned at me, proud of himself. 

“That’s a good boy,” I ruffled his hair like he was a dog. 

“Okay! Now show me the comics! I’ve been excited since you told me about them at lunch,” Auggie said. 

As the bus took off from its parking spot, I pulled the fragile magazine-like books from my backpack. We flipped through them with animated expressions, ooh-ing and ahh-ing as we went. That was, until we approached the cemetery. Once the cattails sprang into view, I shut the comic and prepared myself for the deep breath. Auggie did the same as last time, mimicking my every move. 

I felt my heartbeat travel through my entire body as I clenched my muscles. I was already feeling pressure build in my head - my cheeks puffing out wildly, like a chipmunk. The familiar sight of headstones and mausoleums filled the windowpane. An almost tangible fog rolled across the ground below. I felt a shiver pass through my body. The person that I’d seen digging the grave the last time Auggie rode the bus with me was standing with the shovel and facing the road. It felt like they were staring directly at me. 

I felt myself wavering at that moment. The shock of seeing the person with the shovel almost caused me to gasp. Instead, I wrapped my lips over my teeth and bit down hard. My nostrils flared against the thumb and pointer finger that pinched my nose closed. Not wanting to let fear force me into a mistake, I focused my gaze. I was going to watch the person standing with the shovel the entire way. I would not let them break me. 

That was when the bus slammed into the pot-hole the driver had avoided many times before. The road had worn away, creating a bigger and deeper hole than before. Then, I heard the sharp inhale of a breath from behind me. I felt the color drain from my face as I turned around to look at Auggie. He was breathing raggedly and clutching at his chest. My narrowed eyes had widened slowly as I processed. Auggie broke the rule. 

“You big dummy!” I cried out as the cemetery disappeared from view. 

“It was an accident… The pot-hole scared me so bad! I thought I was gonna die.” Auggie took a puff from the inhaler, holding it in for a moment before exhaling. 

“Something bad is going to happen now,” I said softly. 

“Like what?” Auggie’s tone seemed snarky. 

“I don’t know, but something very very bad is going to happen.” I realized at that moment that I truly didn’t know what was going to happen. I had never been told what the repercussion was for breaking the rule. Just that you never wanted to do it. My eyes darted around the bus, wondering if anyone else had noticed. Thankfully, they hadn’t. 

“It’s probably fine, Maria. Just a silly superstition.” Auggie went back to reading the comics. 

We spent the rest of the ride flipping through the pages in silence. The chatter on the bus disappeared quietly into the background. Even though I turned the pages every so often, I wasn’t reading them. Something felt off. Something felt wrong. I just didn’t know what. Pretty soon after, it was Auggie’s stop. We said our goodbyes and promised to hang out on Saturday. Before he got off the bus, Auggie stopped at the end of the aisle and took one last look at me before stepping down the stairs. 

Saturday had started off in the best way possible. When I came out of my room to eat breakfast, I heard my mother humming one of her favorite songs. It smelled like pancakes and bacon, the scent made my mouth water as I approached. Devin and Nick were already at the table, fighting over who got the largest pancake. While they weren’t looking, I snatched one from the plate and shoved it in my mouth. 

“Boys, make sure you keep an eye on your sister while her friend is over. We don’t need her getting into trouble when we have company.” Even though my mother’s tone was nice and warm, she spat daggers from her mouth. I may be the youngest, but I was more emotionally aware than anyone else in the family. I knew what she was really saying. ‘Make sure she doesn’t make a fool of me or this family’. 

“Ugh, seriously? You’re gonna make us babysit?” Devin groaned. 

“I’m just gonna take Auggie out to the woods where I built my fort!” I shouted excitedly at my brothers. 

When Auggie arrived, I was already waiting outside. His mother was sitting in the driver’s seat, her hair a poofy blond bird’s nest. He looked a lot like her, even down to the cool and dreary expression. She waved at me from inside the car and let her son out. I waved back robotically before sprinting towards my friend. 

“I’m so glad you are here! I can’t wait to show you all the cool things in my backyard.” I grabbed Auggie by the hand and dragged him alongside me. 

The fort was nothing special, looking back on it. Just a bundle of sticks, a few fallen trees, and a couple of tarps. I was lucky that it had not fallen on top of me - a disaster waiting to happen. I pulled back the tarp that served as a door and beckoned my friend to enter. He had to crouch down so that his head didn’t hit the top of the twig covered roof. Both of us sat down with our legs crossed, letting our eyes travel through the masterpiece I had built. 

“What’s this place for?” Auggie asked. 

“It’s my place to hide when mom is having one of her moments. It’s a place to get away from my brothers when they are picking on me too much. It’s a place where I can truly be myself.” I smiled meekly at Auggie. 

“I wish I had a fort…” Auggie’s voice trailed off. 

“This can be your fort too! You can come here whenever you want!” I clapped my hands together excitedly. 

A cough. Another cough. Auggie clutched at his chest. His breathing started to grow ragged and forced. As he dug around in his pocket for the inhaler, another cough wracked his body. A puff and an inhale later, and Auggie's breathing started to steady. I felt my stomach clench - a feeling passing through me that I couldn’t identify. Shaking myself out, I stood up from the ground and offered my hand. My friend took it gratefully and I pulled him to his feet. 

“Where to next?” Auggie asked while exiting the fort. 

“Let’s go down to the stream!” I shouted excitedly.  

Mud squished under our feet as we walked. It made a sucking sound as we pulled our shoes out for the next step. Piles of pine needles and grass patches were the only safe places to walk, but they were few and far between. I didn’t mind the mud, but Auggie struggled with it as we continued forward. After a few paces, we would get to our first landmark. On a small hill in the distance was the rusted shell of a car with a tree growing through the middle of it. 

I wasn’t sure what kind of car it was, but I knew it looked older than any vehicle I had ever seen. The front end of the car - where the engine should have been - was empty, and the cab was missing its seats. Red paint flaked off the frame, and there were no doors on either side. I had always wondered how a car had made it out this far into the woods, and how it could have fit through all the trees. I did know one thing though, it scared me. There was something creepy about the way it didn’t belong. I made sure to stay as far away as possible while on my way to the stream. 

“Holy CRAP. Is that what I think it is?” Auggie pulled on my hand. 

“No.” I planted my feet firmly. 

“Why not?” One of his blond eyebrows raised. 

“Because it’s scary, and because I said ‘no’.” I scowled at Auggie. 

“I’m going to go touch it,” Auggie said. He pulled on my hand harder. My elbow groaned in protest. 

“Fine, we can go over there. But no touching,” I negotiated. 

As we approached the car, I felt my stomach flip flop again. My palms had started to sweat and my mouth felt dry. Something deep within me was telling me to stay far away. When we got within arm's length of the car, I dropped Auggie's hand. The cool autumn air had seemed to grow even colder the closer we got to the oddly placed hunk of metal. 

*Cough-cough* Between coughs that vibrated through his chest, a smile started to form on the boy's face. Had it been under any other circumstance, the smile might’ve seemed genuine. This smile was sinister though. It stretched too wide. Took up too much of his face. As Auggie reached a hand towards the car, reflexively I took a step back. Snap! A twig broke underfoot. His gaze snapped up to me. Under the shade of the trees his eyes looked…sunken and bruised. 

“M-maybe we should keep going. The stream isn’t too far from here.” I stuttered. 

“Yeah, I guess we can go.” Auggie pulled his hand back from the car. The smile fell away into a look of apathy. The wavering of his personality struck me as odd, but not necessarily anything I needed to worry about.

Instead of walking side-by-side, hand-in-hand, Auggie walked behind me. At first, I walked with confidence - marching towards our destination. The birds are no longer chirping, I thought. Looking back on it, I wondered how long it had been since they fell silent. I felt the hairs raise on the back of my neck. Each crunch and snap caused me to jump. Something felt wrong. The woods felt too quiet. It felt like we were making too much noise. I wanted to turn around at that moment. I don’t know why I didn’t. For some reason, I just kept pushing through. 

“We can stop here if you’d like. I can tell that this is starting to really bring up some hard emotions,” Shaunda said and adjusted her glasses. 

“No, this is always the point where we stop. I have to just keep pushing if I want to make any progress.” 

“Okay, so what happened at the stream?” Shaunda’s prompting sent me back down the rabbit-hole yet again.

“He had started coughing again. Really, really badly,” I began. 

The stream truly hadn’t been much farther. I’d say we walked for maybe another ten minutes or so. When the coughing began, I just thought it was his asthma acting up again. I knew that physical activity made his condition worse, but I thought our slow pace would have made it a little easier. Auggie had doubled over, clutching at his chest while he hacked up a lung. The fear that I had been feeling coalesced into a burst of action. I ran over to him. 

Just as I had placed my hand on Auggie’s shoulder, the coughing stopped. He stood up straight, the sinister smile back on his face. The bruised bags returning under his eyes. I felt his hands on my shoulders, and then I was falling. My back slammed against the large rocks and boulders that lay at the bottom of the stream. Ice cold water splashed up around me, covering my face. I didn’t have enough time to catch my breath. The wind was knocked out of me on impact. 

Auggie was on top of me, holding me down. The surface of the water was disturbed by my struggling. It kept me from clearly seeing his face, but I knew. I knew that if I could see him, that he would be smiling that same unnerving smile I had seen just moments before. I thrashed and I kicked, trying to find some way for my face to reach the surface. I needed air. I hadn’t had a chance to hold my breath, and this wasn’t a game. 

“MARIAAAAA,” Devin’s voice was the first thing I heard as I was finally pulled out of the water. 

Auggie was still standing above me. This time his face was full of genuine fear and concern. As soon as I made it back onto my feet, he quickly released my arms and stepped back. His entire body was trembling and he kept apologizing over and over and over. When the sounds of Devin’s approach grew louder, Auggie took off. He bolted back the way we came without so much as a second glance. 

I wanted to cry at that moment, unsure of what had just happened. When my brother's face appeared from behind a tree, the tears that had formed in my eyes suddenly dried up. No matter what, I couldn’t let him see me weak. I couldn’t let him see me cry. Trying to brush the mud from my body, I took a shaky step forward. A shock of pain shot through my back and arm, causing me to wince. 

“What the hell happened to you?” Devin asked. “Wait, where’s Auggie?” 

“Oh, um, I fell. And Auggie went home a little while ago,” I lied.  

“Hm. Weird, but okay. Let’s go. It’s time for dinner.” 

The walk back to the house was cold and painful. My mother took one look at me, and fury bloomed behind her eyes. Her voice switched from a tone of sweetness to that of absolute hatred. I was a ‘mess of a child that had ruined dinner and would no longer be eating with the family’. After I cleaned up the mud I had tracked through the house, I was supposed to shower and then eat. 

Looking into the bathroom mirror, I saw that my back was covered with many bruises that had started to form. They ranged in size but would all eventually turn so dark they’d almost look black. Slipping into my pajamas, I winced as they brushed across my skin. When I got down to the kitchen, my mother was waiting for me at the table. The rest of the family was sent to bed, so that they wouldn’t witness my punishment. 

Waiting for me was a can of cold asparagus. Mother knew that this was the one food that I absolutely hated. She had already opened the can and had placed a fork next to it. I gulped audibly as I took hesitant steps forward. Instead of wild rage, my mother wore a look of cold hatred. That was a much scarier appearance to me. 

“You will sit here and eat the whole can. I will watch you so you don’t worm your way out this time. Your dad isn’t going to be coming to save you.” 

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t my fault. I wanted to tell her about what had happened out in the woods. Nothing I could have said at that moment would have changed her mind. So instead, I sat down. The first bite caused me to gag. The asparagus was slimy, squishy, and smelled like rot. 

“Please, mama. Please don’t make me eat it all,” I cried. 

“If you do not eat it all, I will personally shove it down your throat. I don’t think you want that, do you?” My mother hissed. 

Plugging my nose with one hand, I used the other to shovel the disgusting and cold vegetable into my mouth. Mashing my teeth together wildly, I tried my best to ignore the taste and texture as I swallowed. The gag hit me hard, sending part of the masticated mess back up my throat. I swallowed multiple times and stood up from the table. The can was empty. 

“Good girl, now go right to bed.” That was all my mother said as she walked away. 

Clutching a hand to my mouth, I ran up the stairs. As quietly as one can, I heaved up my stomach contents into the toilet and then brushed my teeth. Mother’s punishments were always cruel and never seemed to make sense. She would tell me every so often that I should be grateful. Grateful that at least she didn’t hit me like her parents did to her. I just wanted this day to be over. Sleep was difficult for me that night. I tossed and turned, nightmare after nightmare plaguing me. Drowning while my friend smiled above me. 

Auggie didn’t come to school for a while. He had come down with a very serious case of pneumonia, which had put him in the hospital. Although I was afraid of him now, I wanted to see him. I wanted to know why he had done that to me. It had been almost two weeks by the time I saw him again. When I got to lunch that day, there he was at the table like usual. Ninja Turtle lunchbox sitting open with a sandwich in his hand. 

“Uh, hi Auggie.” I sat down. 

He looked up at me for a moment. There was a look of confusion that quickly turned back to his usual apathy. His eyes still looked sunken, and his skin was paler than normal. Aside from that he seemed healthy. The practically finished sandwich told me that he must have been feeling fine. Not wanting to deal with the fact that he was very obviously ignoring me, I stood up from the table and decided to eat while standing by the trash cans. It made exiting the lunchroom a lot easier when the bell rang since they were close to the door. 

When I took the bus home that afternoon, Auggie was standing at the front of the line. I raised my hand to wave at him, and he did the same. Without speaking to each other, we walked up the stairs once the door squeaked open. Footsteps thudded like usual, echoing lightly. He must have to go to his grandma's house again, I thought as I sat down. The pleather seat hissed as our butts depressed the tired cushion. 

Before the bus rolled out of the school, I turned to look at Auggie. His dark circles had grown more intense than they were at lunch. Opening my mouth for a moment, I took in a breath. Before I could speak, the look of tiredness on his face stopped me in my tracks. Instead, I looked out the window and studied the scenery. As the cattails appeared, I heard Auggie speak. 

“Don’t forget to hold your breath.” 

As the cemetery burst into full view, I saw that the person who I’d seen holding the shovel was a man. He looked really old, older than my mamaw and papaw and really sick. Silver hair and wrinkled skin were easy to see as he stood by the edge of the road. I felt his eyes burn into me as I peeked out of the window. Dark blue crescent moons hung under his droopy eyes. He still held the shovel in one hand, and waved slowly with the other. I did not wave back, too focused on not breaking the rule.

When we finally reached the edge of the dense woods, I let out the breath I had been holding. As I expelled the air, I turned to face Auggie. He was sitting in the seat with his eyes closed. He looked just as sick and tired as the man with the shovel. I wanted to pat his shoulder and ask if he was okay, but decided not to. 

When the bus stopped in front of Auggie’s grandma’s house, he stood up silently and walked towards the front of the bus. Like last time, he paused to look back at me. The sinister smile grew upon his face. I shivered in my seat and broke my gaze. Without looking up, I heard the thundering of feet as kids hopped down the stairs and exited the bus. The doors hissed as they closed and then we were back on the move.   

“Was that the last time you saw young August?” Shaunda asked. 

“Well, yes and no. I went to his funeral. It wasn’t until later that I found out what happened. For years I had wondered why we moved so abruptly after the start of fifth grade. I think it was a wakeup call for dad, what happened to Auggie. He probably thought that it could have been me, who had been found dead in the fort. They said it was an asthma attack, that he’d run away from home and forgot his inhaler. I don’t know if I believe that, though. Not entirely.” 

“What makes you say that, Maria?” Shaunda asked. 

I panned my eyes from Shaunda’s face, to the space just behind her chair. Eleven year old Auggie stood behind her, his face forever frozen in time. His mouth moved in a way that I understood all too well. He always said the same thing over and over and over. A ghost that forever reminds me of the most important rule to ever enter my life. 

“Don’t forget to hold your breath.” 

There resides a space that no one dare talk about, that no one dare visit. Unless one is looking for a way out. Out of what, you might ask? Life. Reality. Existence. 

From just outside my kitchen window, I can see it. The place no one speaks about. Yellow caution tape flaps wildly in the wind. Surrounded by an electric fence. Even the police don’t come here now. They lost too many officers in one week to scare them for the rest of the decade. For now and till the end of my days, it will be my duty to keep watch. 

The tracks to nowhere are exactly that. A half-a-mile stretch of steel and wood, ending abruptly on either side. Nothing sat upon it, and the tracks were nowhere near any road or railway lines ever recorded. It resided smack dab in the middle of the land my family had owned for over a century. 

My great grandfather Gerald Main was the first to discover the tracks. He had a firsthand account of just how terrible the thing may be. After losing his two youngest sons, bitterness and ego reigned his life. Raising the next generation with cautious curiosity. Fear was never the right way to lead. 

By the time I, Leo, was born many discoveries had been made. Ways to keep people from becoming lost. Ways to keep our family safe. I have raised my own children on the bitterness of truth, knowing that it would keep them from wandering. ‘Never go near the fence, not until we are old enough’ I made them recite every day. They thankfully kept their promise. 

The tracks to nowhere defy all logic. When it rains or snows, you will always find dry ground. As if the tracks themselves reside within an empty snow globe. Yet, the day and night cycle match up with the sky around it. About twenty paces out from all sides of the railway, that is where the border lies. 

“Going out to check for the day?” My wife, Eve, asked. 

“Yep, gotta get it over with.” I groaned, standing up from my seat at the table. The few sips of coffee at the bottom of my mug had grown cold. Upending the cup over the sink, I rinsed it out before setting it on the counter. 

“Be careful, please.” Eve looked at me with concern. 

I was getting old, no one needed to tell me that. I could feel the ache deep within my bones. There wouldn’t be too many years left, for which I was grateful. It was a tiring job, being a watcher of the tracks. I had served my duty and my family well, and soon my eldest son would take over. 

The tracks had to be checked every morning, I usually waited until the sun was up. The tracks liked to use the darkness as a way to fool you, hoping that you come closer than you realize. Hoping that you stumble right into its embrace. Even with the addition of the electric fence, I didn’t like to take chances. 

“Hmm, it seems we’ve got footprints.” I said aloud to the trees that surrounded me. I’ll have to let the Sheriff know…

The underside of a hiking boot was imprinted within the muddy ground. I knew that they headed for the tracks, and I knew there would be no path back the other way. The footprints would end abruptly at the steel beams. As if when they raised their foot for their next step, they were plucked from the Earth by a giant hand. 

There would be no blood, there would be no body. All that would remain of them were the footprints, which would most likely fade with the next rain. Everywhere except for within the caution tape border. Those footprints would stay until they were finally trampled by another. The twenty paces of ground around the tracks would never forget those who dared step upon it. 

It was my job to take a picture of the imprints I found, and to check if any other items were left before their departure. The few people who managed to make it onto my land always had the same reason for coming. They wanted to die. They wanted to disappear. They wanted to make a painless exit far from anywhere that they deemed familiar. 

Using my well-worn walking stick, I swept it through the underbrush. I no longer had the youthful vitality to search while being hunched over the ground. My knees and back had been wrecked from years of doing just that. Whispering a soft thank you, I realized that what I was searching for had been pinned to the back of a tree. 

The folded up piece of paper rustled audibly in the wind. I knew as soon as my eyes locked onto the note, what would be found inside. Trying not to disturb the privacy of their final words, I always jumped to the bottom of the page. Searching for the possibility of a name, so that even if the rest of the world forgot them…we wouldn’t. 

The Main family may be the keepers and watchers of the tracks, but that wasn’t our only job. We were also the keepers and watchers of the ones who stumbled upon them. 

“Already back, are we?” My wife said as I entered the house. “You better take those boots off before you go tracking mud through my house.” 

“Yes ma’am.” I responded with a half-hearted smile. 

“You found another.” My wife didn’t have to ask. She could tell from the look on my tired face that she was right. 

“Yeah. We have lost another poor soul sometime during the night. I’ll have to ring the sheriff. I’ve got the picture and the note. Hopefully, we can find the family and notify them of their passing.” I sighed. 

“Do you really think young Michael will be able to keep this up once we’ve gone, love? He is not built the same as you are. He is a sensitive boy.” Eve said.

“Eve, dearest. I think his sensitivities make him the perfect person for the job. He cares too much to let something like that go unattended. Dalton, on the other hand, doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s too apathetic to do the job right. Had it not been for losing Joseph, I wouldn’t have taken things so seriously.” I responded back.

When I was a young boy I made the mistake of inviting one of my classmates over to play. Although it was not strictly prohibited to have people over to the house, I didn’t notify my parents ahead of time. In the end, I would pay for it dearly. As a child I underestimated the power of the tracks. I underestimated its impact on others. 

Joseph didn’t know to be wary of its silent sirens song. Joseph didn’t know the horrors that I did. Joseph didn’t know that his life would end if he strayed too far. I had only taken my eyes off him for a second. But it was already too late. I was already a character in a play being directed by some unknown force, written eons before I had come to be. 

By the time I had made it to my friend, he was standing at the border of the tracks. I remember screaming his name with such ferocity that I tore something in my throat. I pleaded with him to stay, to turn around, to come back. He turned towards me ever so slightly, a blissful smile on his face. And just kept walking. 

I have only witnessed a handful of disappearances and all of them were the same. Glazed over eyes, a peaceful smile, and then they were gone. Here one moment, and gone the next. I cried and cried in a heap on the ground until my father came to collect me. Things were never the same after that. 

Most of the time the footprints I collected were that of an adult man or woman. Children always hit a little different, and I was grateful for the rarity. Finding backpacks or blankets covered in cartoon characters always tugged at my heartstrings. They always reminded me of Joseph. 

“Thanks for calling Leo. Sorry that you had to discover yet another. I’ll make sure to keep an eye on the missing person bulletin, and let you know if we find anything. I’d hate for your log to be unfinished, and for the family to go unnotified.” The sheriff was a nice older woman. Her voice was thick with sadness and regret. 

“I appreciate the efforts, Sylvia. I’ll let you know if I find anything tomorrow.” I hung up the phone. 

“The boys should be coming back home by the weekend. Make sure you spend time with them equally. We can’t have them thinking you’re picking favorites, even at their grown age.” Eve said after knocking on the open door to the study. 

“Yes, yes. I will do as you ask, dearest.” I replied. 

I kept all of my discoveries in copy after copy of handwritten journals. Leather-bound and organized by year. From the time my great-grandfather had started many years ago, we had collected enough information to fill half a room. Our own little library of what has disappeared or been lost. Outside in a small shed, was a collection of articles that had been left behind by those who’d wandered too close. 

Some of the items left behind were of those who heeded the call. Some were from those who tried to study it. Some were from those who had come to die. Now all of them collected dust within the rickety wooden shrine. 

I left the house to go and deposit my newest find, a su*cide note written on a folded up piece of blue paper. Once placed within the makeshift mosoleum, it would never see the light of day again. It would be laid to rest near large floodlights, old computers, articles of clothing, and letters written in a similar fashion. 

As I replaced the lock on the ivy covered shack, I heard a sound that shook me to my core. Nestled between the chirping of birds and rustling of leaves was a prolonged wail. 

*Whoooot-whoooooooot* the whistle blasted. I heard it clear as day. The shrill cry rearranged itself into a droning moan. A train was coming. Whether I liked it or not, my time as a watcher was going to end. Whether I liked it or not, my name had already been stamped on a ticket long before my birth. The tracks to nowhere would be my destination. 

“Michael! Dalton! My sons!” Eve had cried when they walked in the door. She spread her arms wide, beckoning them for an embrace. They blushed bashfully as they hugged their mother. 

“Boys,” I said with a small smile. They both shook my hand firmly. “Before dinner, I have some business I would like to discuss with the both of you.” 

“Sure thing, old man.” Dalton nodded his head. 

“You okay, dad?” Michael raised an eyebrow at me. 

“I’m doing alright, son. No need to worry.” I knew that my face didn’t betray me. I knew that I kept myself calm and collected, but Michael was too sensitive. Too much of an empath to let something like that fool him. 

“You can be honest,” Michael said once we were behind a closed door. Not wanting Eve to overhear. 

“You both will want to sit.” I hung my head. 

“Dad, you’re scaring me.” Dalton’s voice shook. 

“My time is coming to a close.” I barely managed to choke out. “I’m sorry.” 

Being a watcher was one of the most difficult parts of my life, but it was still a good one. I got to meet a good woman, and fall in love. She gave me years of happiness and two beautiful sons. Memories I would cherish until the end of my days. I didn’t fear death, I didn’t fear the tracks. Even so, I wish I could have a little more time. 

No amount of searching through the old journals could stop or explain what was going to happen. There was no record of what the train looked like, or where it was going. But nonetheless, there would be a train and I would ride it. I just had to keep doing my duty until it arrived. 

“Promise to take good care of your mother, and each other. Above all else, promise me that you will fulfill your duties to the tracks.” I was stern with my words, practically begging. 

“We promise,” my sons responded in unison. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve such good and loyal sons. Thank you for being born to me.” I smiled and held the sides of their faces. We weren’t the type to hug or be overly affectionate, but in that moment all of it went out of the window. It had been nearly 30 years since I held them, and I wanted to do it one last time. 

“Dad, are you really going soon?” Michael had tears in his eyes. All I could do was nod and hug him closer. 

*Whoot-whooooooot* the horn blasted. It had been a week since my sons had come to visit. As each day passed, the whistle grew closer. It grew louder. I could feel its haunting cry vibrating through my chest like an earthquake. Yet, I didn’t let my fear of the unknown affect my work. Every day, I would check the tracks for signs of a lost life. 

By the end of the month I saw and smelled smoke on the horizon. Thick black clouds rising from deep within the trees. My wife would catch me staring out into the distance from the kitchen window. She would rest a quiet hand on my shoulder, oblivious to the sights I saw and the things I heard. The train was only coming for me. 

“Dearest, you’ve seemed so distant these last few days.” Eve said one night by the fire. 

I had half a mind to just break down right then and there. Tell her everything that had been happening to me. Beg and plead with her to help me find a way to escape my fate. But I knew it would be pointless. Instead I was going to take in all the time with her that I could, devoid of the harshness of truth. 

“Oh, I just think age is catching up with me.” I was already nearing 70 years-old. My almost white hair and wrinkled face were worn as badges of honor. Eve looked just as beautiful as she did when I met her. When I looked at her, all I could see was her face at 20-something. Full of smiles and sparkling eyes. 

“Are you sure? You can talk to me about anything. You know that already.” Her voice grew quiet. The snap and crackle of the fire filling the spaces between. 

“Always.” I smiled at her. 

A few days before the train arrived, I witnessed something I had never experienced before. On my morning walk to check the tracks, I noted fresh footprints in the mud. They were unfortunately too small to be anything other than that of a child. I felt my heart ache as I snapped a photo. 

It was rare that children committed the act. Their purpose for arrival must have been from the beckoning of the tracks. Their siren call permeated a range that was unknown to all. Unknown to me, and my forefathers. 

If the tracks had chosen you, there would be no stopping it. It didn’t matter if you resided on the other side of the Earth. Once it called your name, you would eventually end up standing before it. Drawn in by an invisible rope. 

When I stood at the edge of the fence, I studied the ground before me. The tiny footprints ended at the railways like usual. Their last marks upon the earth carved in mud. What was odd about this time though, was the appearance of something on the tracks. It looked thick and wet. Like tar had been spilled across the wood and steel. Tar wasn’t usually red though. 

I didn’t have to think very hard to recognize what I was looking at. The only time I had witnessed anything on the tracks, was of course only days before my end. It just had to be the spilt blood of one who was too young. One who should have never made it to these lands. One who should never have been lost. 

As I returned to my home, sadness hung in my heart and smoke permeated my nose. Eve could tell from the look on my face that I didn’t want to be bothered for a while. She didn’t even complain as I tracked mud through her spotless house. Instead, she followed after me with a broom and dustpan in hand. Cleaning up behind me as I walked to the study. 

*whoot-WHOOOT* *whoooot-whooot* 

The whistle of the train woke me from my slumber. The bed was empty aside from me and the sun was already up. Clanking sounded from the kitchen below as Eve made breakfast. As I stood from the bed, I peaked out from the window to observe the land below. The train had finally arrived. 

Slowly and deliberately I got dressed. Picking out the nicest clothes I owned, I took as much time as possible. I couldn’t remember the last time I shaved my face or donned cologne, but I found myself going through the motions like they were the most natural thing in the world. If I were going to catch my ride, I wanted to look nice. 

When my wife saw me, I think she knew. She held two plates filled with sausage and eggs, a look of surprise on her face. I poured us both coffee and pulled out her chair. Planting a kiss on her head, I sat down and ate. We sat in silence, aside from the sounds of metal on ceramic. Every so often I would look out the window, the smoke of the train shrouded its appearance. 

“Are you going?” Eve asked. 

“It seems so.” I sighed and stood up from the table. 

“Have you a moment to indulge me? One last dance before you leave?” Eve’s voice trembled with emotion. 

“Always.” 

Holding one of her frail hands in mine, I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. My heart beat steadily as we swayed from side to side. Bending down, I buried my face in her rose scented hair. I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t want to ride the train. 

As I stepped back from my beautiful and loving wife, tears had coated her cheeks. We parted ways at the door, not wanting to risk her coming too close to the tracks. She didn’t deserve to disappear with me. She still had many years ahead of her, years she would spend doting upon grandchildren. 

“I love you.” Was all she said. 

“I love you, always.” I responded before closing the door behind me. 

Grabbing my trusty walking stick, I trudged forward. My knees and hips groaned in protest as I continued down the hill. The smoke was so strong I tasted it on my tongue. It filled my eyes and nose, depriving me of most of my senses. All I had to go on was sound and touch. I kept traveling forward, putting one foot in front of the other. 

As I approached the tracks to nowhere, something prompted me to put my hand into my front pocket. I felt the crinkle of paper and wrapped my fingers around it. Pulling my hand out, I opened my palm to find a train ticket devoid of its destination. Admittance for one. 

*WHOOT-WHOOOOT* the whistle sounded loudly. I jumped as the vibrations traveled through my body. As I looked up from the ticket, the train appeared in front of me. Turning my head, I saw the fence and yellow caution tape were behind me. I had already crossed over the threshold. 

Standing in front of me was a beast of an engine. From my perch within the house the train had appeared white. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t a trick of the light or a failure of my eyes. The engine truly was white. Not made of metal or steel, but made from bone. 

Femurs, radiuses, ribs, spines, and pelvises were amongst other bones. Compiled together in a way that defied physics, it defied all logic. Just like the tracks themselves. In this small stretch of space, nothing made sense. I wondered how such a thing could exist, let alone move. Yet, I found myself growing ever closer. Approaching the single passenger car with an unwarranted confidence that this was where I was supposed to be. 

As I sat down on the bench-like seat made up of carefully curated bone, I couldn’t help but think of my family. The ticket that had been clutched in my palm now had a small hole punched in it. I felt at ease, knowing that I belonged here. As I took one last look out of the window, I saw my footprints cemented into the mud below. 

Poor Michael. He would be the one to find my tracks to nowhere. His first day as a watcher would be the day he discovers his father has gone. Just like I had with my father. Then, with one final scream from the whistle, the wheels groaned as they began to move. 

There resides a space that no one dare talk about, that no one dare visit. Unless one is looking for a way out. Out of what, you might ask? Life. Reality. Existence. 

From just outside my kitchen window, I can see it. The place no one speaks about. Yellow caution tape flaps wildly in the wind. Surrounded by an electric fence. Even the police don’t come here now. They lost too many officers in one week to scare them for the rest of the decade. For now and till the end of my days, it will be my duty to keep watch. 

The tracks to nowhere are exactly that. A half-a-mile stretch of steel and wood, ending abruptly on either side. Nothing sat upon it, and the tracks were nowhere near any road or railway lines ever recorded. It resided smack dab in the middle of the land my family had owned for over a century. 

My great grandfather Gerald Main was the first to discover the tracks. He had a firsthand account of just how terrible the thing may be. After losing his two youngest sons, bitterness and ego reigned his life. Raising the next generation with cautious curiosity. Fear was never the right way to lead. 

By the time I, Leo, was born many discoveries had been made. Ways to keep people from becoming lost. Ways to keep our family safe. I have raised my own children on the bitterness of truth, knowing that it would keep them from wandering. ‘Never go near the fence, not until we are old enough’ I made them recite every day. They thankfully kept their promise. 

The tracks to nowhere defy all logic. When it rains or snows, you will always find dry ground. As if the tracks themselves reside within an empty snow globe. Yet, the day and night cycle match up with the sky around it. About twenty paces out from all sides of the railway, that is where the border lies. 

“Going out to check for the day?” My wife, Eve, asked. 

“Yep, gotta get it over with.” I groaned, standing up from my seat at the table. The few sips of coffee at the bottom of my mug had grown cold. Upending the cup over the sink, I rinsed it out before setting it on the counter. 

“Be careful, please.” Eve looked at me with concern. 

I was getting old, no one needed to tell me that. I could feel the ache deep within my bones. There wouldn’t be too many years left, for which I was grateful. It was a tiring job, being a watcher of the tracks. I had served my duty and my family well, and soon my eldest son would take over. 

The tracks had to be checked every morning, I usually waited until the sun was up. The tracks liked to use the darkness as a way to fool you, hoping that you come closer than you realize. Hoping that you stumble right into its embrace. Even with the addition of the electric fence, I didn’t like to take chances. 

“Hmm, it seems we’ve got footprints.” I said aloud to the trees that surrounded me. I’ll have to let the Sheriff know…

The underside of a hiking boot was imprinted within the muddy ground. I knew that they headed for the tracks, and I knew there would be no path back the other way. The footprints would end abruptly at the steel beams. As if when they raised their foot for their next step, they were plucked from the Earth by a giant hand. 

There would be no blood, there would be no body. All that would remain of them were the footprints, which would most likely fade with the next rain. Everywhere except for within the caution tape border. Those footprints would stay until they were finally trampled by another. The twenty paces of ground around the tracks would never forget those who dared step upon it. 

It was my job to take a picture of the imprints I found, and to check if any other items were left before their departure. The few people who managed to make it onto my land always had the same reason for coming. They wanted to die. They wanted to disappear. They wanted to make a painless exit far from anywhere that they deemed familiar. 

Using my well-worn walking stick, I swept it through the underbrush. I no longer had the youthful vitality to search while being hunched over the ground. My knees and back had been wrecked from years of doing just that. Whispering a soft thank you, I realized that what I was searching for had been pinned to the back of a tree. 

The folded up piece of paper rustled audibly in the wind. I knew as soon as my eyes locked onto the note, what would be found inside. Trying not to disturb the privacy of their final words, I always jumped to the bottom of the page. Searching for the possibility of a name, so that even if the rest of the world forgot them…we wouldn’t. 

The Main family may be the keepers and watchers of the tracks, but that wasn’t our only job. We were also the keepers and watchers of the ones who stumbled upon them. 

“Already back, are we?” My wife said as I entered the house. “You better take those boots off before you go tracking mud through my house.” 

“Yes ma’am.” I responded with a half-hearted smile. 

“You found another.” My wife didn’t have to ask. She could tell from the look on my tired face that she was right. 

“Yeah. We have lost another poor soul sometime during the night. I’ll have to ring the sheriff. I’ve got the picture and the note. Hopefully, we can find the family and notify them of their passing.” I sighed. 

“Do you really think young Michael will be able to keep this up once we’ve gone, love? He is not built the same as you are. He is a sensitive boy.” Eve said.

“Eve, dearest. I think his sensitivities make him the perfect person for the job. He cares too much to let something like that go unattended. Dalton, on the other hand, doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s too apathetic to do the job right. Had it not been for losing Joseph, I wouldn’t have taken things so seriously.” I responded back.

When I was a young boy I made the mistake of inviting one of my classmates over to play. Although it was not strictly prohibited to have people over to the house, I didn’t notify my parents ahead of time. In the end, I would pay for it dearly. As a child I underestimated the power of the tracks. I underestimated its impact on others. 

Joseph didn’t know to be wary of its silent sirens song. Joseph didn’t know the horrors that I did. Joseph didn’t know that his life would end if he strayed too far. I had only taken my eyes off him for a second. But it was already too late. I was already a character in a play being directed by some unknown force, written eons before I had come to be. 

By the time I had made it to my friend, he was standing at the border of the tracks. I remember screaming his name with such ferocity that I tore something in my throat. I pleaded with him to stay, to turn around, to come back. He turned towards me ever so slightly, a blissful smile on his face. And just kept walking. 

I have only witnessed a handful of disappearances and all of them were the same. Glazed over eyes, a peaceful smile, and then they were gone. Here one moment, and gone the next. I cried and cried in a heap on the ground until my father came to collect me. Things were never the same after that. 

Most of the time the footprints I collected were that of an adult man or woman. Children always hit a little different, and I was grateful for the rarity. Finding backpacks or blankets covered in cartoon characters always tugged at my heartstrings. They always reminded me of Joseph. 

“Thanks for calling Leo. Sorry that you had to discover yet another. I’ll make sure to keep an eye on the missing person bulletin, and let you know if we find anything. I’d hate for your log to be unfinished, and for the family to go unnotified.” The sheriff was a nice older woman. Her voice was thick with sadness and regret. 

“I appreciate the efforts, Sylvia. I’ll let you know if I find anything tomorrow.” I hung up the phone. 

“The boys should be coming back home by the weekend. Make sure you spend time with them equally. We can’t have them thinking you’re picking favorites, even at their grown age.” Eve said after knocking on the open door to the study. 

“Yes, yes. I will do as you ask, dearest.” I replied. 

I kept all of my discoveries in copy after copy of handwritten journals. Leather-bound and organized by year. From the time my great-grandfather had started many years ago, we had collected enough information to fill half a room. Our own little library of what has disappeared or been lost. Outside in a small shed, was a collection of articles that had been left behind by those who’d wandered too close. 

Some of the items left behind were of those who heeded the call. Some were from those who tried to study it. Some were from those who had come to die. Now all of them collected dust within the rickety wooden shrine. 

I left the house to go and deposit my newest find, a su*cide note written on a folded up piece of blue paper. Once placed within the makeshift mosoleum, it would never see the light of day again. It would be laid to rest near large floodlights, old computers, articles of clothing, and letters written in a similar fashion. 

As I replaced the lock on the ivy covered shack, I heard a sound that shook me to my core. Nestled between the chirping of birds and rustling of leaves was a prolonged wail. 

*Whoooot-whoooooooot* the whistle blasted. I heard it clear as day. The shrill cry rearranged itself into a droning moan. A train was coming. Whether I liked it or not, my time as a watcher was going to end. Whether I liked it or not, my name had already been stamped on a ticket long before my birth. The tracks to nowhere would be my destination. 

“Michael! Dalton! My sons!” Eve had cried when they walked in the door. She spread her arms wide, beckoning them for an embrace. They blushed bashfully as they hugged their mother. 

“Boys,” I said with a small smile. They both shook my hand firmly. “Before dinner, I have some business I would like to discuss with the both of you.” 

“Sure thing, old man.” Dalton nodded his head. 

“You okay, dad?” Michael raised an eyebrow at me. 

“I’m doing alright, son. No need to worry.” I knew that my face didn’t betray me. I knew that I kept myself calm and collected, but Michael was too sensitive. Too much of an empath to let something like that fool him. 

“You can be honest,” Michael said once we were behind a closed door. Not wanting Eve to overhear. 

“You both will want to sit.” I hung my head. 

“Dad, you’re scaring me.” Dalton’s voice shook. 

“My time is coming to a close.” I barely managed to choke out. “I’m sorry.” 

Being a watcher was one of the most difficult parts of my life, but it was still a good one. I got to meet a good woman, and fall in love. She gave me years of happiness and two beautiful sons. Memories I would cherish until the end of my days. I didn’t fear death, I didn’t fear the tracks. Even so, I wish I could have a little more time. 

No amount of searching through the old journals could stop or explain what was going to happen. There was no record of what the train looked like, or where it was going. But nonetheless, there would be a train and I would ride it. I just had to keep doing my duty until it arrived. 

“Promise to take good care of your mother, and each other. Above all else, promise me that you will fulfill your duties to the tracks.” I was stern with my words, practically begging. 

“We promise,” my sons responded in unison. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve such good and loyal sons. Thank you for being born to me.” I smiled and held the sides of their faces. We weren’t the type to hug or be overly affectionate, but in that moment all of it went out of the window. It had been nearly 30 years since I held them, and I wanted to do it one last time. 

“Dad, are you really going soon?” Michael had tears in his eyes. All I could do was nod and hug him closer. 

*Whoot-whooooooot* the horn blasted. It had been a week since my sons had come to visit. As each day passed, the whistle grew closer. It grew louder. I could feel its haunting cry vibrating through my chest like an earthquake. Yet, I didn’t let my fear of the unknown affect my work. Every day, I would check the tracks for signs of a lost life. 

By the end of the month I saw and smelled smoke on the horizon. Thick black clouds rising from deep within the trees. My wife would catch me staring out into the distance from the kitchen window. She would rest a quiet hand on my shoulder, oblivious to the sights I saw and the things I heard. The train was only coming for me. 

“Dearest, you’ve seemed so distant these last few days.” Eve said one night by the fire. 

I had half a mind to just break down right then and there. Tell her everything that had been happening to me. Beg and plead with her to help me find a way to escape my fate. But I knew it would be pointless. Instead I was going to take in all the time with her that I could, devoid of the harshness of truth. 

“Oh, I just think age is catching up with me.” I was already nearing 70 years-old. My almost white hair and wrinkled face were worn as badges of honor. Eve looked just as beautiful as she did when I met her. When I looked at her, all I could see was her face at 20-something. Full of smiles and sparkling eyes. 

“Are you sure? You can talk to me about anything. You know that already.” Her voice grew quiet. The snap and crackle of the fire filling the spaces between. 

“Always.” I smiled at her. 

A few days before the train arrived, I witnessed something I had never experienced before. On my morning walk to check the tracks, I noted fresh footprints in the mud. They were unfortunately too small to be anything other than that of a child. I felt my heart ache as I snapped a photo. 

It was rare that children committed the act. Their purpose for arrival must have been from the beckoning of the tracks. Their siren call permeated a range that was unknown to all. Unknown to me, and my forefathers. 

If the tracks had chosen you, there would be no stopping it. It didn’t matter if you resided on the other side of the Earth. Once it called your name, you would eventually end up standing before it. Drawn in by an invisible rope. 

When I stood at the edge of the fence, I studied the ground before me. The tiny footprints ended at the railways like usual. Their last marks upon the earth carved in mud. What was odd about this time though, was the appearance of something on the tracks. It looked thick and wet. Like tar had been spilled across the wood and steel. Tar wasn’t usually red though. 

I didn’t have to think very hard to recognize what I was looking at. The only time I had witnessed anything on the tracks, was of course only days before my end. It just had to be the spilt blood of one who was too young. One who should have never made it to these lands. One who should never have been lost. 

As I returned to my home, sadness hung in my heart and smoke permeated my nose. Eve could tell from the look on my face that I didn’t want to be bothered for a while. She didn’t even complain as I tracked mud through her spotless house. Instead, she followed after me with a broom and dustpan in hand. Cleaning up behind me as I walked to the study. 

*whoot-WHOOOT* *whoooot-whooot* 

The whistle of the train woke me from my slumber. The bed was empty aside from me and the sun was already up. Clanking sounded from the kitchen below as Eve made breakfast. As I stood from the bed, I peaked out from the window to observe the land below. The train had finally arrived. 

Slowly and deliberately I got dressed. Picking out the nicest clothes I owned, I took as much time as possible. I couldn’t remember the last time I shaved my face or donned cologne, but I found myself going through the motions like they were the most natural thing in the world. If I were going to catch my ride, I wanted to look nice. 

When my wife saw me, I think she knew. She held two plates filled with sausage and eggs, a look of surprise on her face. I poured us both coffee and pulled out her chair. Planting a kiss on her head, I sat down and ate. We sat in silence, aside from the sounds of metal on ceramic. Every so often I would look out the window, the smoke of the train shrouded its appearance. 

“Are you going?” Eve asked. 

“It seems so.” I sighed and stood up from the table. 

“Have you a moment to indulge me? One last dance before you leave?” Eve’s voice trembled with emotion. 

“Always.” 

Holding one of her frail hands in mine, I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. My heart beat steadily as we swayed from side to side. Bending down, I buried my face in her rose scented hair. I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t want to ride the train. 

As I stepped back from my beautiful and loving wife, tears had coated her cheeks. We parted ways at the door, not wanting to risk her coming too close to the tracks. She didn’t deserve to disappear with me. She still had many years ahead of her, years she would spend doting upon grandchildren. 

“I love you.” Was all she said. 

“I love you, always.” I responded before closing the door behind me. 

Grabbing my trusty walking stick, I trudged forward. My knees and hips groaned in protest as I continued down the hill. The smoke was so strong I tasted it on my tongue. It filled my eyes and nose, depriving me of most of my senses. All I had to go on was sound and touch. I kept traveling forward, putting one foot in front of the other. 

As I approached the tracks to nowhere, something prompted me to put my hand into my front pocket. I felt the crinkle of paper and wrapped my fingers around it. Pulling my hand out, I opened my palm to find a train ticket devoid of its destination. Admittance for one. 

*WHOOT-WHOOOOT* the whistle sounded loudly. I jumped as the vibrations traveled through my body. As I looked up from the ticket, the train appeared in front of me. Turning my head, I saw the fence and yellow caution tape were behind me. I had already crossed over the threshold. 

Standing in front of me was a beast of an engine. From my perch within the house the train had appeared white. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t a trick of the light or a failure of my eyes. The engine truly was white. Not made of metal or steel, but made from bone. 

Femurs, radiuses, ribs, spines, and pelvises were amongst other bones. Compiled together in a way that defied physics, it defied all logic. Just like the tracks themselves. In this small stretch of space, nothing made sense. I wondered how such a thing could exist, let alone move. Yet, I found myself growing ever closer. Approaching the single passenger car with an unwarranted confidence that this was where I was supposed to be. 

As I sat down on the bench-like seat made up of carefully curated bone, I couldn’t help but think of my family. The ticket that had been clutched in my palm now had a small hole punched in it. I felt at ease, knowing that I belonged here. As I took one last look out of the window, I saw my footprints cemented into the mud below. 

Poor Michael. He would be the one to find my tracks to nowhere. His first day as a watcher would be the day he discovers his father has gone. Just like I had with my father. Then, with one final scream from the whistle, the wheels groaned as they began to move. 

There resides a space that no one dare talk about, that no one dare visit. Unless one is looking for a way out. Out of what, you might ask? Life. Reality. Existence. 

From just outside my kitchen window, I can see it. The place no one speaks about. Yellow caution tape flaps wildly in the wind. Surrounded by an electric fence. Even the police don’t come here now. They lost too many officers in one week to scare them for the rest of the decade. For now and till the end of my days, it will be my duty to keep watch. 

The tracks to nowhere are exactly that. A half-a-mile stretch of steel and wood, ending abruptly on either side. Nothing sat upon it, and the tracks were nowhere near any road or railway lines ever recorded. It resided smack dab in the middle of the land my family had owned for over a century. 

My great grandfather Gerald Main was the first to discover the tracks. He had a firsthand account of just how terrible the thing may be. After losing his two youngest sons, bitterness and ego reigned his life. Raising the next generation with cautious curiosity. Fear was never the right way to lead. 

By the time I, Leo, was born many discoveries had been made. Ways to keep people from becoming lost. Ways to keep our family safe. I have raised my own children on the bitterness of truth, knowing that it would keep them from wandering. ‘Never go near the fence, not until we are old enough’ I made them recite every day. They thankfully kept their promise. 

The tracks to nowhere defy all logic. When it rains or snows, you will always find dry ground. As if the tracks themselves reside within an empty snow globe. Yet, the day and night cycle match up with the sky around it. About twenty paces out from all sides of the railway, that is where the border lies. 

“Going out to check for the day?” My wife, Eve, asked. 

“Yep, gotta get it over with.” I groaned, standing up from my seat at the table. The few sips of coffee at the bottom of my mug had grown cold. Upending the cup over the sink, I rinsed it out before setting it on the counter. 

“Be careful, please.” Eve looked at me with concern. 

I was getting old, no one needed to tell me that. I could feel the ache deep within my bones. There wouldn’t be too many years left, for which I was grateful. It was a tiring job, being a watcher of the tracks. I had served my duty and my family well, and soon my eldest son would take over. 

The tracks had to be checked every morning, I usually waited until the sun was up. The tracks liked to use the darkness as a way to fool you, hoping that you come closer than you realize. Hoping that you stumble right into its embrace. Even with the addition of the electric fence, I didn’t like to take chances. 

“Hmm, it seems we’ve got footprints.” I said aloud to the trees that surrounded me. I’ll have to let the Sheriff know…

The underside of a hiking boot was imprinted within the muddy ground. I knew that they headed for the tracks, and I knew there would be no path back the other way. The footprints would end abruptly at the steel beams. As if when they raised their foot for their next step, they were plucked from the Earth by a giant hand. 

There would be no blood, there would be no body. All that would remain of them were the footprints, which would most likely fade with the next rain. Everywhere except for within the caution tape border. Those footprints would stay until they were finally trampled by another. The twenty paces of ground around the tracks would never forget those who dared step upon it. 

It was my job to take a picture of the imprints I found, and to check if any other items were left before their departure. The few people who managed to make it onto my land always had the same reason for coming. They wanted to die. They wanted to disappear. They wanted to make a painless exit far from anywhere that they deemed familiar. 

Using my well-worn walking stick, I swept it through the underbrush. I no longer had the youthful vitality to search while being hunched over the ground. My knees and back had been wrecked from years of doing just that. Whispering a soft thank you, I realized that what I was searching for had been pinned to the back of a tree. 

The folded up piece of paper rustled audibly in the wind. I knew as soon as my eyes locked onto the note, what would be found inside. Trying not to disturb the privacy of their final words, I always jumped to the bottom of the page. Searching for the possibility of a name, so that even if the rest of the world forgot them…we wouldn’t. 

The Main family may be the keepers and watchers of the tracks, but that wasn’t our only job. We were also the keepers and watchers of the ones who stumbled upon them. 

“Already back, are we?” My wife said as I entered the house. “You better take those boots off before you go tracking mud through my house.” 

“Yes ma’am.” I responded with a half-hearted smile. 

“You found another.” My wife didn’t have to ask. She could tell from the look on my tired face that she was right. 

“Yeah. We have lost another poor soul sometime during the night. I’ll have to ring the sheriff. I’ve got the picture and the note. Hopefully, we can find the family and notify them of their passing.” I sighed. 

“Do you really think young Michael will be able to keep this up once we’ve gone, love? He is not built the same as you are. He is a sensitive boy.” Eve said.

“Eve, dearest. I think his sensitivities make him the perfect person for the job. He cares too much to let something like that go unattended. Dalton, on the other hand, doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s too apathetic to do the job right. Had it not been for losing Joseph, I wouldn’t have taken things so seriously.” I responded back.

When I was a young boy I made the mistake of inviting one of my classmates over to play. Although it was not strictly prohibited to have people over to the house, I didn’t notify my parents ahead of time. In the end, I would pay for it dearly. As a child I underestimated the power of the tracks. I underestimated its impact on others. 

Joseph didn’t know to be wary of its silent sirens song. Joseph didn’t know the horrors that I did. Joseph didn’t know that his life would end if he strayed too far. I had only taken my eyes off him for a second. But it was already too late. I was already a character in a play being directed by some unknown force, written eons before I had come to be. 

By the time I had made it to my friend, he was standing at the border of the tracks. I remember screaming his name with such ferocity that I tore something in my throat. I pleaded with him to stay, to turn around, to come back. He turned towards me ever so slightly, a blissful smile on his face. And just kept walking. 

I have only witnessed a handful of disappearances and all of them were the same. Glazed over eyes, a peaceful smile, and then they were gone. Here one moment, and gone the next. I cried and cried in a heap on the ground until my father came to collect me. Things were never the same after that. 

Most of the time the footprints I collected were that of an adult man or woman. Children always hit a little different, and I was grateful for the rarity. Finding backpacks or blankets covered in cartoon characters always tugged at my heartstrings. They always reminded me of Joseph. 

“Thanks for calling Leo. Sorry that you had to discover yet another. I’ll make sure to keep an eye on the missing person bulletin, and let you know if we find anything. I’d hate for your log to be unfinished, and for the family to go unnotified.” The sheriff was a nice older woman. Her voice was thick with sadness and regret. 

“I appreciate the efforts, Sylvia. I’ll let you know if I find anything tomorrow.” I hung up the phone. 

“The boys should be coming back home by the weekend. Make sure you spend time with them equally. We can’t have them thinking you’re picking favorites, even at their grown age.” Eve said after knocking on the open door to the study. 

“Yes, yes. I will do as you ask, dearest.” I replied. 

I kept all of my discoveries in copy after copy of handwritten journals. Leather-bound and organized by year. From the time my great-grandfather had started many years ago, we had collected enough information to fill half a room. Our own little library of what has disappeared or been lost. Outside in a small shed, was a collection of articles that had been left behind by those who’d wandered too close. 

Some of the items left behind were of those who heeded the call. Some were from those who tried to study it. Some were from those who had come to die. Now all of them collected dust within the rickety wooden shrine. 

I left the house to go and deposit my newest find, a su*cide note written on a folded up piece of blue paper. Once placed within the makeshift mosoleum, it would never see the light of day again. It would be laid to rest near large floodlights, old computers, articles of clothing, and letters written in a similar fashion. 

As I replaced the lock on the ivy covered shack, I heard a sound that shook me to my core. Nestled between the chirping of birds and rustling of leaves was a prolonged wail. 

*Whoooot-whoooooooot* the whistle blasted. I heard it clear as day. The shrill cry rearranged itself into a droning moan. A train was coming. Whether I liked it or not, my time as a watcher was going to end. Whether I liked it or not, my name had already been stamped on a ticket long before my birth. The tracks to nowhere would be my destination. 

“Michael! Dalton! My sons!” Eve had cried when they walked in the door. She spread her arms wide, beckoning them for an embrace. They blushed bashfully as they hugged their mother. 

“Boys,” I said with a small smile. They both shook my hand firmly. “Before dinner, I have some business I would like to discuss with the both of you.” 

“Sure thing, old man.” Dalton nodded his head. 

“You okay, dad?” Michael raised an eyebrow at me. 

“I’m doing alright, son. No need to worry.” I knew that my face didn’t betray me. I knew that I kept myself calm and collected, but Michael was too sensitive. Too much of an empath to let something like that fool him. 

“You can be honest,” Michael said once we were behind a closed door. Not wanting Eve to overhear. 

“You both will want to sit.” I hung my head. 

“Dad, you’re scaring me.” Dalton’s voice shook. 

“My time is coming to a close.” I barely managed to choke out. “I’m sorry.” 

Being a watcher was one of the most difficult parts of my life, but it was still a good one. I got to meet a good woman, and fall in love. She gave me years of happiness and two beautiful sons. Memories I would cherish until the end of my days. I didn’t fear death, I didn’t fear the tracks. Even so, I wish I could have a little more time. 

No amount of searching through the old journals could stop or explain what was going to happen. There was no record of what the train looked like, or where it was going. But nonetheless, there would be a train and I would ride it. I just had to keep doing my duty until it arrived. 

“Promise to take good care of your mother, and each other. Above all else, promise me that you will fulfill your duties to the tracks.” I was stern with my words, practically begging. 

“We promise,” my sons responded in unison. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve such good and loyal sons. Thank you for being born to me.” I smiled and held the sides of their faces. We weren’t the type to hug or be overly affectionate, but in that moment all of it went out of the window. It had been nearly 30 years since I held them, and I wanted to do it one last time. 

“Dad, are you really going soon?” Michael had tears in his eyes. All I could do was nod and hug him closer. 

*Whoot-whooooooot* the horn blasted. It had been a week since my sons had come to visit. As each day passed, the whistle grew closer. It grew louder. I could feel its haunting cry vibrating through my chest like an earthquake. Yet, I didn’t let my fear of the unknown affect my work. Every day, I would check the tracks for signs of a lost life. 

By the end of the month I saw and smelled smoke on the horizon. Thick black clouds rising from deep within the trees. My wife would catch me staring out into the distance from the kitchen window. She would rest a quiet hand on my shoulder, oblivious to the sights I saw and the things I heard. The train was only coming for me. 

“Dearest, you’ve seemed so distant these last few days.” Eve said one night by the fire. 

I had half a mind to just break down right then and there. Tell her everything that had been happening to me. Beg and plead with her to help me find a way to escape my fate. But I knew it would be pointless. Instead I was going to take in all the time with her that I could, devoid of the harshness of truth. 

“Oh, I just think age is catching up with me.” I was already nearing 70 years-old. My almost white hair and wrinkled face were worn as badges of honor. Eve looked just as beautiful as she did when I met her. When I looked at her, all I could see was her face at 20-something. Full of smiles and sparkling eyes. 

“Are you sure? You can talk to me about anything. You know that already.” Her voice grew quiet. The snap and crackle of the fire filling the spaces between. 

“Always.” I smiled at her. 

A few days before the train arrived, I witnessed something I had never experienced before. On my morning walk to check the tracks, I noted fresh footprints in the mud. They were unfortunately too small to be anything other than that of a child. I felt my heart ache as I snapped a photo. 

It was rare that children committed the act. Their purpose for arrival must have been from the beckoning of the tracks. Their siren call permeated a range that was unknown to all. Unknown to me, and my forefathers. 

If the tracks had chosen you, there would be no stopping it. It didn’t matter if you resided on the other side of the Earth. Once it called your name, you would eventually end up standing before it. Drawn in by an invisible rope. 

When I stood at the edge of the fence, I studied the ground before me. The tiny footprints ended at the railways like usual. Their last marks upon the earth carved in mud. What was odd about this time though, was the appearance of something on the tracks. It looked thick and wet. Like tar had been spilled across the wood and steel. Tar wasn’t usually red though. 

I didn’t have to think very hard to recognize what I was looking at. The only time I had witnessed anything on the tracks, was of course only days before my end. It just had to be the spilt blood of one who was too young. One who should have never made it to these lands. One who should never have been lost. 

As I returned to my home, sadness hung in my heart and smoke permeated my nose. Eve could tell from the look on my face that I didn’t want to be bothered for a while. She didn’t even complain as I tracked mud through her spotless house. Instead, she followed after me with a broom and dustpan in hand. Cleaning up behind me as I walked to the study. 

*whoot-WHOOOT* *whoooot-whooot* 

The whistle of the train woke me from my slumber. The bed was empty aside from me and the sun was already up. Clanking sounded from the kitchen below as Eve made breakfast. As I stood from the bed, I peaked out from the window to observe the land below. The train had finally arrived. 

Slowly and deliberately I got dressed. Picking out the nicest clothes I owned, I took as much time as possible. I couldn’t remember the last time I shaved my face or donned cologne, but I found myself going through the motions like they were the most natural thing in the world. If I were going to catch my ride, I wanted to look nice. 

When my wife saw me, I think she knew. She held two plates filled with sausage and eggs, a look of surprise on her face. I poured us both coffee and pulled out her chair. Planting a kiss on her head, I sat down and ate. We sat in silence, aside from the sounds of metal on ceramic. Every so often I would look out the window, the smoke of the train shrouded its appearance. 

“Are you going?” Eve asked. 

“It seems so.” I sighed and stood up from the table. 

“Have you a moment to indulge me? One last dance before you leave?” Eve’s voice trembled with emotion. 

“Always.” 

Holding one of her frail hands in mine, I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. My heart beat steadily as we swayed from side to side. Bending down, I buried my face in her rose scented hair. I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t want to ride the train. 

As I stepped back from my beautiful and loving wife, tears had coated her cheeks. We parted ways at the door, not wanting to risk her coming too close to the tracks. She didn’t deserve to disappear with me. She still had many years ahead of her, years she would spend doting upon grandchildren. 

“I love you.” Was all she said. 

“I love you, always.” I responded before closing the door behind me. 

Grabbing my trusty walking stick, I trudged forward. My knees and hips groaned in protest as I continued down the hill. The smoke was so strong I tasted it on my tongue. It filled my eyes and nose, depriving me of most of my senses. All I had to go on was sound and touch. I kept traveling forward, putting one foot in front of the other. 

As I approached the tracks to nowhere, something prompted me to put my hand into my front pocket. I felt the crinkle of paper and wrapped my fingers around it. Pulling my hand out, I opened my palm to find a train ticket devoid of its destination. Admittance for one. 

*WHOOT-WHOOOOT* the whistle sounded loudly. I jumped as the vibrations traveled through my body. As I looked up from the ticket, the train appeared in front of me. Turning my head, I saw the fence and yellow caution tape were behind me. I had already crossed over the threshold. 

Standing in front of me was a beast of an engine. From my perch within the house the train had appeared white. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t a trick of the light or a failure of my eyes. The engine truly was white. Not made of metal or steel, but made from bone. 

Femurs, radiuses, ribs, spines, and pelvises were amongst other bones. Compiled together in a way that defied physics, it defied all logic. Just like the tracks themselves. In this small stretch of space, nothing made sense. I wondered how such a thing could exist, let alone move. Yet, I found myself growing ever closer. Approaching the single passenger car with an unwarranted confidence that this was where I was supposed to be. 

As I sat down on the bench-like seat made up of carefully curated bone, I couldn’t help but think of my family. The ticket that had been clutched in my palm now had a small hole punched in it. I felt at ease, knowing that I belonged here. As I took one last look out of the window, I saw my footprints cemented into the mud below. 

Poor Michael. He would be the one to find my tracks to nowhere. His first day as a watcher would be the day he discovers his father has gone. Just like I had with my father. Then, with one final scream from the whistle, the wheels groaned as they began to move. 

There resides a space that no one dare talk about, that no one dare visit. Unless one is looking for a way out. Out of what, you might ask? Life. Reality. Existence. 

From just outside my kitchen window, I can see it. The place no one speaks about. Yellow caution tape flaps wildly in the wind. Surrounded by an electric fence. Even the police don’t come here now. They lost too many officers in one week to scare them for the rest of the decade. For now and till the end of my days, it will be my duty to keep watch. 

The tracks to nowhere are exactly that. A half-a-mile stretch of steel and wood, ending abruptly on either side. Nothing sat upon it, and the tracks were nowhere near any road or railway lines ever recorded. It resided smack dab in the middle of the land my family had owned for over a century. 

My great grandfather Gerald Main was the first to discover the tracks. He had a firsthand account of just how terrible the thing may be. After losing his two youngest sons, bitterness and ego reigned his life. Raising the next generation with cautious curiosity. Fear was never the right way to lead. 

By the time I, Leo, was born many discoveries had been made. Ways to keep people from becoming lost. Ways to keep our family safe. I have raised my own children on the bitterness of truth, knowing that it would keep them from wandering. ‘Never go near the fence, not until we are old enough’ I made them recite every day. They thankfully kept their promise. 

The tracks to nowhere defy all logic. When it rains or snows, you will always find dry ground. As if the tracks themselves reside within an empty snow globe. Yet, the day and night cycle match up with the sky around it. About twenty paces out from all sides of the railway, that is where the border lies. 

“Going out to check for the day?” My wife, Eve, asked. 

“Yep, gotta get it over with.” I groaned, standing up from my seat at the table. The few sips of coffee at the bottom of my mug had grown cold. Upending the cup over the sink, I rinsed it out before setting it on the counter. 

“Be careful, please.” Eve looked at me with concern. 

I was getting old, no one needed to tell me that. I could feel the ache deep within my bones. There wouldn’t be too many years left, for which I was grateful. It was a tiring job, being a watcher of the tracks. I had served my duty and my family well, and soon my eldest son would take over. 

The tracks had to be checked every morning, I usually waited until the sun was up. The tracks liked to use the darkness as a way to fool you, hoping that you come closer than you realize. Hoping that you stumble right into its embrace. Even with the addition of the electric fence, I didn’t like to take chances. 

“Hmm, it seems we’ve got footprints.” I said aloud to the trees that surrounded me. I’ll have to let the Sheriff know…

The underside of a hiking boot was imprinted within the muddy ground. I knew that they headed for the tracks, and I knew there would be no path back the other way. The footprints would end abruptly at the steel beams. As if when they raised their foot for their next step, they were plucked from the Earth by a giant hand. 

There would be no blood, there would be no body. All that would remain of them were the footprints, which would most likely fade with the next rain. Everywhere except for within the caution tape border. Those footprints would stay until they were finally trampled by another. The twenty paces of ground around the tracks would never forget those who dared step upon it. 

It was my job to take a picture of the imprints I found, and to check if any other items were left before their departure. The few people who managed to make it onto my land always had the same reason for coming. They wanted to die. They wanted to disappear. They wanted to make a painless exit far from anywhere that they deemed familiar. 

Using my well-worn walking stick, I swept it through the underbrush. I no longer had the youthful vitality to search while being hunched over the ground. My knees and back had been wrecked from years of doing just that. Whispering a soft thank you, I realized that what I was searching for had been pinned to the back of a tree. 

The folded up piece of paper rustled audibly in the wind. I knew as soon as my eyes locked onto the note, what would be found inside. Trying not to disturb the privacy of their final words, I always jumped to the bottom of the page. Searching for the possibility of a name, so that even if the rest of the world forgot them…we wouldn’t. 

The Main family may be the keepers and watchers of the tracks, but that wasn’t our only job. We were also the keepers and watchers of the ones who stumbled upon them. 

“Already back, are we?” My wife said as I entered the house. “You better take those boots off before you go tracking mud through my house.” 

“Yes ma’am.” I responded with a half-hearted smile. 

“You found another.” My wife didn’t have to ask. She could tell from the look on my tired face that she was right. 

“Yeah. We have lost another poor soul sometime during the night. I’ll have to ring the sheriff. I’ve got the picture and the note. Hopefully, we can find the family and notify them of their passing.” I sighed. 

“Do you really think young Michael will be able to keep this up once we’ve gone, love? He is not built the same as you are. He is a sensitive boy.” Eve said.

“Eve, dearest. I think his sensitivities make him the perfect person for the job. He cares too much to let something like that go unattended. Dalton, on the other hand, doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s too apathetic to do the job right. Had it not been for losing Joseph, I wouldn’t have taken things so seriously.” I responded back.

When I was a young boy I made the mistake of inviting one of my classmates over to play. Although it was not strictly prohibited to have people over to the house, I didn’t notify my parents ahead of time. In the end, I would pay for it dearly. As a child I underestimated the power of the tracks. I underestimated its impact on others. 

Joseph didn’t know to be wary of its silent sirens song. Joseph didn’t know the horrors that I did. Joseph didn’t know that his life would end if he strayed too far. I had only taken my eyes off him for a second. But it was already too late. I was already a character in a play being directed by some unknown force, written eons before I had come to be. 

By the time I had made it to my friend, he was standing at the border of the tracks. I remember screaming his name with such ferocity that I tore something in my throat. I pleaded with him to stay, to turn around, to come back. He turned towards me ever so slightly, a blissful smile on his face. And just kept walking. 

I have only witnessed a handful of disappearances and all of them were the same. Glazed over eyes, a peaceful smile, and then they were gone. Here one moment, and gone the next. I cried and cried in a heap on the ground until my father came to collect me. Things were never the same after that. 

Most of the time the footprints I collected were that of an adult man or woman. Children always hit a little different, and I was grateful for the rarity. Finding backpacks or blankets covered in cartoon characters always tugged at my heartstrings. They always reminded me of Joseph. 

“Thanks for calling Leo. Sorry that you had to discover yet another. I’ll make sure to keep an eye on the missing person bulletin, and let you know if we find anything. I’d hate for your log to be unfinished, and for the family to go unnotified.” The sheriff was a nice older woman. Her voice was thick with sadness and regret. 

“I appreciate the efforts, Sylvia. I’ll let you know if I find anything tomorrow.” I hung up the phone. 

“The boys should be coming back home by the weekend. Make sure you spend time with them equally. We can’t have them thinking you’re picking favorites, even at their grown age.” Eve said after knocking on the open door to the study. 

“Yes, yes. I will do as you ask, dearest.” I replied. 

I kept all of my discoveries in copy after copy of handwritten journals. Leather-bound and organized by year. From the time my great-grandfather had started many years ago, we had collected enough information to fill half a room. Our own little library of what has disappeared or been lost. Outside in a small shed, was a collection of articles that had been left behind by those who’d wandered too close. 

Some of the items left behind were of those who heeded the call. Some were from those who tried to study it. Some were from those who had come to die. Now all of them collected dust within the rickety wooden shrine. 

I left the house to go and deposit my newest find, a su*cide note written on a folded up piece of blue paper. Once placed within the makeshift mosoleum, it would never see the light of day again. It would be laid to rest near large floodlights, old computers, articles of clothing, and letters written in a similar fashion. 

As I replaced the lock on the ivy covered shack, I heard a sound that shook me to my core. Nestled between the chirping of birds and rustling of leaves was a prolonged wail. 

*Whoooot-whoooooooot* the whistle blasted. I heard it clear as day. The shrill cry rearranged itself into a droning moan. A train was coming. Whether I liked it or not, my time as a watcher was going to end. Whether I liked it or not, my name had already been stamped on a ticket long before my birth. The tracks to nowhere would be my destination. 

“Michael! Dalton! My sons!” Eve had cried when they walked in the door. She spread her arms wide, beckoning them for an embrace. They blushed bashfully as they hugged their mother. 

“Boys,” I said with a small smile. They both shook my hand firmly. “Before dinner, I have some business I would like to discuss with the both of you.” 

“Sure thing, old man.” Dalton nodded his head. 

“You okay, dad?” Michael raised an eyebrow at me. 

“I’m doing alright, son. No need to worry.” I knew that my face didn’t betray me. I knew that I kept myself calm and collected, but Michael was too sensitive. Too much of an empath to let something like that fool him. 

“You can be honest,” Michael said once we were behind a closed door. Not wanting Eve to overhear. 

“You both will want to sit.” I hung my head. 

“Dad, you’re scaring me.” Dalton’s voice shook. 

“My time is coming to a close.” I barely managed to choke out. “I’m sorry.” 

Being a watcher was one of the most difficult parts of my life, but it was still a good one. I got to meet a good woman, and fall in love. She gave me years of happiness and two beautiful sons. Memories I would cherish until the end of my days. I didn’t fear death, I didn’t fear the tracks. Even so, I wish I could have a little more time. 

No amount of searching through the old journals could stop or explain what was going to happen. There was no record of what the train looked like, or where it was going. But nonetheless, there would be a train and I would ride it. I just had to keep doing my duty until it arrived. 

“Promise to take good care of your mother, and each other. Above all else, promise me that you will fulfill your duties to the tracks.” I was stern with my words, practically begging. 

“We promise,” my sons responded in unison. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve such good and loyal sons. Thank you for being born to me.” I smiled and held the sides of their faces. We weren’t the type to hug or be overly affectionate, but in that moment all of it went out of the window. It had been nearly 30 years since I held them, and I wanted to do it one last time. 

“Dad, are you really going soon?” Michael had tears in his eyes. All I could do was nod and hug him closer. 

*Whoot-whooooooot* the horn blasted. It had been a week since my sons had come to visit. As each day passed, the whistle grew closer. It grew louder. I could feel its haunting cry vibrating through my chest like an earthquake. Yet, I didn’t let my fear of the unknown affect my work. Every day, I would check the tracks for signs of a lost life. 

By the end of the month I saw and smelled smoke on the horizon. Thick black clouds rising from deep within the trees. My wife would catch me staring out into the distance from the kitchen window. She would rest a quiet hand on my shoulder, oblivious to the sights I saw and the things I heard. The train was only coming for me. 

“Dearest, you’ve seemed so distant these last few days.” Eve said one night by the fire. 

I had half a mind to just break down right then and there. Tell her everything that had been happening to me. Beg and plead with her to help me find a way to escape my fate. But I knew it would be pointless. Instead I was going to take in all the time with her that I could, devoid of the harshness of truth. 

“Oh, I just think age is catching up with me.” I was already nearing 70 years-old. My almost white hair and wrinkled face were worn as badges of honor. Eve looked just as beautiful as she did when I met her. When I looked at her, all I could see was her face at 20-something. Full of smiles and sparkling eyes. 

“Are you sure? You can talk to me about anything. You know that already.” Her voice grew quiet. The snap and crackle of the fire filling the spaces between. 

“Always.” I smiled at her. 

A few days before the train arrived, I witnessed something I had never experienced before. On my morning walk to check the tracks, I noted fresh footprints in the mud. They were unfortunately too small to be anything other than that of a child. I felt my heart ache as I snapped a photo. 

It was rare that children committed the act. Their purpose for arrival must have been from the beckoning of the tracks. Their siren call permeated a range that was unknown to all. Unknown to me, and my forefathers. 

If the tracks had chosen you, there would be no stopping it. It didn’t matter if you resided on the other side of the Earth. Once it called your name, you would eventually end up standing before it. Drawn in by an invisible rope. 

When I stood at the edge of the fence, I studied the ground before me. The tiny footprints ended at the railways like usual. Their last marks upon the earth carved in mud. What was odd about this time though, was the appearance of something on the tracks. It looked thick and wet. Like tar had been spilled across the wood and steel. Tar wasn’t usually red though. 

I didn’t have to think very hard to recognize what I was looking at. The only time I had witnessed anything on the tracks, was of course only days before my end. It just had to be the spilt blood of one who was too young. One who should have never made it to these lands. One who should never have been lost. 

As I returned to my home, sadness hung in my heart and smoke permeated my nose. Eve could tell from the look on my face that I didn’t want to be bothered for a while. She didn’t even complain as I tracked mud through her spotless house. Instead, she followed after me with a broom and dustpan in hand. Cleaning up behind me as I walked to the study. 

*whoot-WHOOOT* *whoooot-whooot* 

The whistle of the train woke me from my slumber. The bed was empty aside from me and the sun was already up. Clanking sounded from the kitchen below as Eve made breakfast. As I stood from the bed, I peaked out from the window to observe the land below. The train had finally arrived. 

Slowly and deliberately I got dressed. Picking out the nicest clothes I owned, I took as much time as possible. I couldn’t remember the last time I shaved my face or donned cologne, but I found myself going through the motions like they were the most natural thing in the world. If I were going to catch my ride, I wanted to look nice. 

When my wife saw me, I think she knew. She held two plates filled with sausage and eggs, a look of surprise on her face. I poured us both coffee and pulled out her chair. Planting a kiss on her head, I sat down and ate. We sat in silence, aside from the sounds of metal on ceramic. Every so often I would look out the window, the smoke of the train shrouded its appearance. 

“Are you going?” Eve asked. 

“It seems so.” I sighed and stood up from the table. 

“Have you a moment to indulge me? One last dance before you leave?” Eve’s voice trembled with emotion. 

“Always.” 

Holding one of her frail hands in mine, I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. My heart beat steadily as we swayed from side to side. Bending down, I buried my face in her rose scented hair. I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t want to ride the train. 

As I stepped back from my beautiful and loving wife, tears had coated her cheeks. We parted ways at the door, not wanting to risk her coming too close to the tracks. She didn’t deserve to disappear with me. She still had many years ahead of her, years she would spend doting upon grandchildren. 

“I love you.” Was all she said. 

“I love you, always.” I responded before closing the door behind me. 

Grabbing my trusty walking stick, I trudged forward. My knees and hips groaned in protest as I continued down the hill. The smoke was so strong I tasted it on my tongue. It filled my eyes and nose, depriving me of most of my senses. All I had to go on was sound and touch. I kept traveling forward, putting one foot in front of the other. 

As I approached the tracks to nowhere, something prompted me to put my hand into my front pocket. I felt the crinkle of paper and wrapped my fingers around it. Pulling my hand out, I opened my palm to find a train ticket devoid of its destination. Admittance for one. 

*WHOOT-WHOOOOT* the whistle sounded loudly. I jumped as the vibrations traveled through my body. As I looked up from the ticket, the train appeared in front of me. Turning my head, I saw the fence and yellow caution tape were behind me. I had already crossed over the threshold. 

Standing in front of me was a beast of an engine. From my perch within the house the train had appeared white. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t a trick of the light or a failure of my eyes. The engine truly was white. Not made of metal or steel, but made from bone. 

Femurs, radiuses, ribs, spines, and pelvises were amongst other bones. Compiled together in a way that defied physics, it defied all logic. Just like the tracks themselves. In this small stretch of space, nothing made sense. I wondered how such a thing could exist, let alone move. Yet, I found myself growing ever closer. Approaching the single passenger car with an unwarranted confidence that this was where I was supposed to be. 

As I sat down on the bench-like seat made up of carefully curated bone, I couldn’t help but think of my family. The ticket that had been clutched in my palm now had a small hole punched in it. I felt at ease, knowing that I belonged here. As I took one last look out of the window, I saw my footprints cemented into the mud below. 

Poor Michael. He would be the one to find my tracks to nowhere. His first day as a watcher would be the day he discovers his father has gone. Just like I had with my father. Then, with one final scream from the whistle, the wheels groaned as they began to move. 

There resides a space that no one dare talk about, that no one dare visit. Unless one is looking for a way out. Out of what, you might ask? Life. Reality. Existence. 

From just outside my kitchen window, I can see it. The place no one speaks about. Yellow caution tape flaps wildly in the wind. Surrounded by an electric fence. Even the police don’t come here now. They lost too many officers in one week to scare them for the rest of the decade. For now and till the end of my days, it will be my duty to keep watch. 

The tracks to nowhere are exactly that. A half-a-mile stretch of steel and wood, ending abruptly on either side. Nothing sat upon it, and the tracks were nowhere near any road or railway lines ever recorded. It resided smack dab in the middle of the land my family had owned for over a century. 

My great grandfather Gerald Main was the first to discover the tracks. He had a firsthand account of just how terrible the thing may be. After losing his two youngest sons, bitterness and ego reigned his life. Raising the next generation with cautious curiosity. Fear was never the right way to lead. 

By the time I, Leo, was born many discoveries had been made. Ways to keep people from becoming lost. Ways to keep our family safe. I have raised my own children on the bitterness of truth, knowing that it would keep them from wandering. ‘Never go near the fence, not until we are old enough’ I made them recite every day. They thankfully kept their promise. 

The tracks to nowhere defy all logic. When it rains or snows, you will always find dry ground. As if the tracks themselves reside within an empty snow globe. Yet, the day and night cycle match up with the sky around it. About twenty paces out from all sides of the railway, that is where the border lies. 

“Going out to check for the day?” My wife, Eve, asked. 

“Yep, gotta get it over with.” I groaned, standing up from my seat at the table. The few sips of coffee at the bottom of my mug had grown cold. Upending the cup over the sink, I rinsed it out before setting it on the counter. 

“Be careful, please.” Eve looked at me with concern. 

I was getting old, no one needed to tell me that. I could feel the ache deep within my bones. There wouldn’t be too many years left, for which I was grateful. It was a tiring job, being a watcher of the tracks. I had served my duty and my family well, and soon my eldest son would take over. 

The tracks had to be checked every morning, I usually waited until the sun was up. The tracks liked to use the darkness as a way to fool you, hoping that you come closer than you realize. Hoping that you stumble right into its embrace. Even with the addition of the electric fence, I didn’t like to take chances. 

“Hmm, it seems we’ve got footprints.” I said aloud to the trees that surrounded me. I’ll have to let the Sheriff know…

The underside of a hiking boot was imprinted within the muddy ground. I knew that they headed for the tracks, and I knew there would be no path back the other way. The footprints would end abruptly at the steel beams. As if when they raised their foot for their next step, they were plucked from the Earth by a giant hand. 

There would be no blood, there would be no body. All that would remain of them were the footprints, which would most likely fade with the next rain. Everywhere except for within the caution tape border. Those footprints would stay until they were finally trampled by another. The twenty paces of ground around the tracks would never forget those who dared step upon it. 

It was my job to take a picture of the imprints I found, and to check if any other items were left before their departure. The few people who managed to make it onto my land always had the same reason for coming. They wanted to die. They wanted to disappear. They wanted to make a painless exit far from anywhere that they deemed familiar. 

Using my well-worn walking stick, I swept it through the underbrush. I no longer had the youthful vitality to search while being hunched over the ground. My knees and back had been wrecked from years of doing just that. Whispering a soft thank you, I realized that what I was searching for had been pinned to the back of a tree. 

The folded up piece of paper rustled audibly in the wind. I knew as soon as my eyes locked onto the note, what would be found inside. Trying not to disturb the privacy of their final words, I always jumped to the bottom of the page. Searching for the possibility of a name, so that even if the rest of the world forgot them…we wouldn’t. 

The Main family may be the keepers and watchers of the tracks, but that wasn’t our only job. We were also the keepers and watchers of the ones who stumbled upon them. 

“Already back, are we?” My wife said as I entered the house. “You better take those boots off before you go tracking mud through my house.” 

“Yes ma’am.” I responded with a half-hearted smile. 

“You found another.” My wife didn’t have to ask. She could tell from the look on my tired face that she was right. 

“Yeah. We have lost another poor soul sometime during the night. I’ll have to ring the sheriff. I’ve got the picture and the note. Hopefully, we can find the family and notify them of their passing.” I sighed. 

“Do you really think young Michael will be able to keep this up once we’ve gone, love? He is not built the same as you are. He is a sensitive boy.” Eve said.

“Eve, dearest. I think his sensitivities make him the perfect person for the job. He cares too much to let something like that go unattended. Dalton, on the other hand, doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s too apathetic to do the job right. Had it not been for losing Joseph, I wouldn’t have taken things so seriously.” I responded back.

When I was a young boy I made the mistake of inviting one of my classmates over to play. Although it was not strictly prohibited to have people over to the house, I didn’t notify my parents ahead of time. In the end, I would pay for it dearly. As a child I underestimated the power of the tracks. I underestimated its impact on others. 

Joseph didn’t know to be wary of its silent sirens song. Joseph didn’t know the horrors that I did. Joseph didn’t know that his life would end if he strayed too far. I had only taken my eyes off him for a second. But it was already too late. I was already a character in a play being directed by some unknown force, written eons before I had come to be. 

By the time I had made it to my friend, he was standing at the border of the tracks. I remember screaming his name with such ferocity that I tore something in my throat. I pleaded with him to stay, to turn around, to come back. He turned towards me ever so slightly, a blissful smile on his face. And just kept walking. 

I have only witnessed a handful of disappearances and all of them were the same. Glazed over eyes, a peaceful smile, and then they were gone. Here one moment, and gone the next. I cried and cried in a heap on the ground until my father came to collect me. Things were never the same after that. 

Most of the time the footprints I collected were that of an adult man or woman. Children always hit a little different, and I was grateful for the rarity. Finding backpacks or blankets covered in cartoon characters always tugged at my heartstrings. They always reminded me of Joseph. 

“Thanks for calling Leo. Sorry that you had to discover yet another. I’ll make sure to keep an eye on the missing person bulletin, and let you know if we find anything. I’d hate for your log to be unfinished, and for the family to go unnotified.” The sheriff was a nice older woman. Her voice was thick with sadness and regret. 

“I appreciate the efforts, Sylvia. I’ll let you know if I find anything tomorrow.” I hung up the phone. 

“The boys should be coming back home by the weekend. Make sure you spend time with them equally. We can’t have them thinking you’re picking favorites, even at their grown age.” Eve said after knocking on the open door to the study. 

“Yes, yes. I will do as you ask, dearest.” I replied. 

I kept all of my discoveries in copy after copy of handwritten journals. Leather-bound and organized by year. From the time my great-grandfather had started many years ago, we had collected enough information to fill half a room. Our own little library of what has disappeared or been lost. Outside in a small shed, was a collection of articles that had been left behind by those who’d wandered too close. 

Some of the items left behind were of those who heeded the call. Some were from those who tried to study it. Some were from those who had come to die. Now all of them collected dust within the rickety wooden shrine. 

I left the house to go and deposit my newest find, a su*cide note written on a folded up piece of blue paper. Once placed within the makeshift mosoleum, it would never see the light of day again. It would be laid to rest near large floodlights, old computers, articles of clothing, and letters written in a similar fashion. 

As I replaced the lock on the ivy covered shack, I heard a sound that shook me to my core. Nestled between the chirping of birds and rustling of leaves was a prolonged wail. 

*Whoooot-whoooooooot* the whistle blasted. I heard it clear as day. The shrill cry rearranged itself into a droning moan. A train was coming. Whether I liked it or not, my time as a watcher was going to end. Whether I liked it or not, my name had already been stamped on a ticket long before my birth. The tracks to nowhere would be my destination. 

“Michael! Dalton! My sons!” Eve had cried when they walked in the door. She spread her arms wide, beckoning them for an embrace. They blushed bashfully as they hugged their mother. 

“Boys,” I said with a small smile. They both shook my hand firmly. “Before dinner, I have some business I would like to discuss with the both of you.” 

“Sure thing, old man.” Dalton nodded his head. 

“You okay, dad?” Michael raised an eyebrow at me. 

“I’m doing alright, son. No need to worry.” I knew that my face didn’t betray me. I knew that I kept myself calm and collected, but Michael was too sensitive. Too much of an empath to let something like that fool him. 

“You can be honest,” Michael said once we were behind a closed door. Not wanting Eve to overhear. 

“You both will want to sit.” I hung my head. 

“Dad, you’re scaring me.” Dalton’s voice shook. 

“My time is coming to a close.” I barely managed to choke out. “I’m sorry.” 

Being a watcher was one of the most difficult parts of my life, but it was still a good one. I got to meet a good woman, and fall in love. She gave me years of happiness and two beautiful sons. Memories I would cherish until the end of my days. I didn’t fear death, I didn’t fear the tracks. Even so, I wish I could have a little more time. 

No amount of searching through the old journals could stop or explain what was going to happen. There was no record of what the train looked like, or where it was going. But nonetheless, there would be a train and I would ride it. I just had to keep doing my duty until it arrived. 

“Promise to take good care of your mother, and each other. Above all else, promise me that you will fulfill your duties to the tracks.” I was stern with my words, practically begging. 

“We promise,” my sons responded in unison. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve such good and loyal sons. Thank you for being born to me.” I smiled and held the sides of their faces. We weren’t the type to hug or be overly affectionate, but in that moment all of it went out of the window. It had been nearly 30 years since I held them, and I wanted to do it one last time. 

“Dad, are you really going soon?” Michael had tears in his eyes. All I could do was nod and hug him closer. 

*Whoot-whooooooot* the horn blasted. It had been a week since my sons had come to visit. As each day passed, the whistle grew closer. It grew louder. I could feel its haunting cry vibrating through my chest like an earthquake. Yet, I didn’t let my fear of the unknown affect my work. Every day, I would check the tracks for signs of a lost life. 

By the end of the month I saw and smelled smoke on the horizon. Thick black clouds rising from deep within the trees. My wife would catch me staring out into the distance from the kitchen window. She would rest a quiet hand on my shoulder, oblivious to the sights I saw and the things I heard. The train was only coming for me. 

“Dearest, you’ve seemed so distant these last few days.” Eve said one night by the fire. 

I had half a mind to just break down right then and there. Tell her everything that had been happening to me. Beg and plead with her to help me find a way to escape my fate. But I knew it would be pointless. Instead I was going to take in all the time with her that I could, devoid of the harshness of truth. 

“Oh, I just think age is catching up with me.” I was already nearing 70 years-old. My almost white hair and wrinkled face were worn as badges of honor. Eve looked just as beautiful as she did when I met her. When I looked at her, all I could see was her face at 20-something. Full of smiles and sparkling eyes. 

“Are you sure? You can talk to me about anything. You know that already.” Her voice grew quiet. The snap and crackle of the fire filling the spaces between. 

“Always.” I smiled at her. 

A few days before the train arrived, I witnessed something I had never experienced before. On my morning walk to check the tracks, I noted fresh footprints in the mud. They were unfortunately too small to be anything other than that of a child. I felt my heart ache as I snapped a photo. 

It was rare that children committed the act. Their purpose for arrival must have been from the beckoning of the tracks. Their siren call permeated a range that was unknown to all. Unknown to me, and my forefathers. 

If the tracks had chosen you, there would be no stopping it. It didn’t matter if you resided on the other side of the Earth. Once it called your name, you would eventually end up standing before it. Drawn in by an invisible rope. 

When I stood at the edge of the fence, I studied the ground before me. The tiny footprints ended at the railways like usual. Their last marks upon the earth carved in mud. What was odd about this time though, was the appearance of something on the tracks. It looked thick and wet. Like tar had been spilled across the wood and steel. Tar wasn’t usually red though. 

I didn’t have to think very hard to recognize what I was looking at. The only time I had witnessed anything on the tracks, was of course only days before my end. It just had to be the spilt blood of one who was too young. One who should have never made it to these lands. One who should never have been lost. 

As I returned to my home, sadness hung in my heart and smoke permeated my nose. Eve could tell from the look on my face that I didn’t want to be bothered for a while. She didn’t even complain as I tracked mud through her spotless house. Instead, she followed after me with a broom and dustpan in hand. Cleaning up behind me as I walked to the study. 

*whoot-WHOOOT* *whoooot-whooot* 

The whistle of the train woke me from my slumber. The bed was empty aside from me and the sun was already up. Clanking sounded from the kitchen below as Eve made breakfast. As I stood from the bed, I peaked out from the window to observe the land below. The train had finally arrived. 

Slowly and deliberately I got dressed. Picking out the nicest clothes I owned, I took as much time as possible. I couldn’t remember the last time I shaved my face or donned cologne, but I found myself going through the motions like they were the most natural thing in the world. If I were going to catch my ride, I wanted to look nice. 

When my wife saw me, I think she knew. She held two plates filled with sausage and eggs, a look of surprise on her face. I poured us both coffee and pulled out her chair. Planting a kiss on her head, I sat down and ate. We sat in silence, aside from the sounds of metal on ceramic. Every so often I would look out the window, the smoke of the train shrouded its appearance. 

“Are you going?” Eve asked. 

“It seems so.” I sighed and stood up from the table. 

“Have you a moment to indulge me? One last dance before you leave?” Eve’s voice trembled with emotion. 

“Always.” 

Holding one of her frail hands in mine, I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. My heart beat steadily as we swayed from side to side. Bending down, I buried my face in her rose scented hair. I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t want to ride the train. 

As I stepped back from my beautiful and loving wife, tears had coated her cheeks. We parted ways at the door, not wanting to risk her coming too close to the tracks. She didn’t deserve to disappear with me. She still had many years ahead of her, years she would spend doting upon grandchildren. 

“I love you.” Was all she said. 

“I love you, always.” I responded before closing the door behind me. 

Grabbing my trusty walking stick, I trudged forward. My knees and hips groaned in protest as I continued down the hill. The smoke was so strong I tasted it on my tongue. It filled my eyes and nose, depriving me of most of my senses. All I had to go on was sound and touch. I kept traveling forward, putting one foot in front of the other. 

As I approached the tracks to nowhere, something prompted me to put my hand into my front pocket. I felt the crinkle of paper and wrapped my fingers around it. Pulling my hand out, I opened my palm to find a train ticket devoid of its destination. Admittance for one. 

*WHOOT-WHOOOOT* the whistle sounded loudly. I jumped as the vibrations traveled through my body. As I looked up from the ticket, the train appeared in front of me. Turning my head, I saw the fence and yellow caution tape were behind me. I had already crossed over the threshold. 

Standing in front of me was a beast of an engine. From my perch within the house the train had appeared white. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t a trick of the light or a failure of my eyes. The engine truly was white. Not made of metal or steel, but made from bone. 

Femurs, radiuses, ribs, spines, and pelvises were amongst other bones. Compiled together in a way that defied physics, it defied all logic. Just like the tracks themselves. In this small stretch of space, nothing made sense. I wondered how such a thing could exist, let alone move. Yet, I found myself growing ever closer. Approaching the single passenger car with an unwarranted confidence that this was where I was supposed to be. 

As I sat down on the bench-like seat made up of carefully curated bone, I couldn’t help but think of my family. The ticket that had been clutched in my palm now had a small hole punched in it. I felt at ease, knowing that I belonged here. As I took one last look out of the window, I saw my footprints cemented into the mud below. 

Poor Michael. He would be the one to find my tracks to nowhere. His first day as a watcher would be the day he discovers his father has gone. Just like I had with my father. Then, with one final scream from the whistle, the wheels groaned as they began to move. 

Well… I guess I’m not crazy. At least, not completely. To the commenters who have made their way to my blog, I thank you. Your confirmation that you noted odd occurrences in my videos brings me great comfort. Although you didn’t/can’t see the shadow or hear the voice, there are other things that you saw/heard that can corroborate my story. I don’t even mind the comments from the skeptics either. In fact, I’m impressed that you think I have the time and talent to pull off such a farce. 

When I left you last time, I was getting ready to have another seizure… It was surprisingly a normal one. Nothing weird happened on camera this time. Sugar acted like her usual self. Cradling my head for the entirety, licking my face as I began to wake up. I thought of uploading the video, but decided against it. Instead, I finally saw the doctor. It was a rushed appointment since my frequency of events had increased so dramatically. 

I have some interesting news, I’m not sure if it is good or bad. Personally I don’t even know if I’ve processed it yet. I’ll be receiving surgery soon. This has been a plan that was considered a last ditch effort for the last few years. As I’ve grown, so has my disability. Do any of you know what the corpus callosum is? It’s a bundle of nerves and brain tissue that connects the two hemispheres. I’ll be getting mine severed at the end of the month. The medications are all no longer working. I’m out of options. 

I’ll write again if something interesting happens. For now I’m just going to take some time to breathe. Thanks for following along as always. 

Log 8 ended at 6:30pm

It has been a week since I’ve last been here. As I write this out, I am partially covered in bandages on my hands and face. Bits of pink show through the tan colored film reinforced with gauze. Sugar and I are huddled together tightly in my bed. She hasn’t left my side for a single second since. I even have to follow her out into the yard as she does her business. 

Two days ago I experienced one of the most traumatic seizures of my life. I’m not even sure if I can call this a seizure. Whatever was recorded on my phone was unlike anything I had ever seen before. I’m not really sure where to start other than to tell you that the aura came on like usual. Sugar alerted me well in advance, and I was able to lay down in the middle of the living room floor. 

After setting up the phone, Sugar came to lay by my head. I was alone in the house since my parents were away at work. Everything seemed so normal. But when I woke up, I was no longer laying down. I was standing in front of the mirror that hung on the far side of the living room, covered in blood and broken glass. I remember standing there sobbing, unsure of what to do. I stood in that spot for only a few moments before my dad came home. He took one look at me and dialed 911 right away. 

“Oh my GOD. Kelsey! What the hell happened?” He shouted. 

“Dad,” I started crying harder. “I don’t know.” 

Blood trickled into my mouth as I spoke. Tasting like what the aura tried so hard to duplicate. I’ll save you the details of the trip to the E.R.. Pretty much it consisted of wound irrigation, pulling glass from my skin, stitches, and a check with psych. No one seemed to believe that it was from the seizure. I wouldn’t have either if I were them. That was not normal behaviour but I stuck to my story anyways. It was too embarrassing to tell the truth, that I was being haunted by some kind of shadow person. 

When my parents and the doctors asked if I recorded it, I lied yet again. Said that I didn’t have enough time to set up my phone. I didn’t want them to see. I didn’t want them to treat me like I was crazy too. They couldn’t see what I saw, and I didn’t want to waste valuable time being stuck in the psych ward. Someone or something is vying for my brain. For my body. For me. 

I decided to wait until I arrived home from the hospital to watch the video. I waited until only moments before this upload to watch it. What I saw was one of the scariest things I have ever seen. 

From the position my phone was at, the back wall of the house was in plain view. One half of the wall was a sliding glass door, the other half was hung with family photos and a large ornate mirror. It was square with a sculpted brass frame, courtesy of my great-grandmother. Part of the couch and a side table were visible too. Other than that, Sugar and I were the main focus. 

As the seizure began, my eyelids fluttered and my body twitched. Just as the full body convulsions began, I watched in the background as the sliding glass door began to move on its own. It only opened an inch before coming to a stop. I held my breath as I watched, waiting for something to appear in the glass. That was when I heard the wind-like voice, so soft it was barely audible. 

“Kelseyyy…may I come in?” 

“Yes,” I had managed to get out through clenched teeth. My lips pulled back to expose my teeth and gums as I responded. 

Shadow and mist poured through the crack in the door. It made its way towards me like a swarm of microscopic black bees. A constantly rearranging blob of shadow molded and shaped itself into the resemblance of a human body. Still too ambiguous to tell whether they were a man or a woman, or if it was even supposed to be a human at all. Their arms and legs were too blocky, like the person in the crosswalk light telling you it's safe to move. They stood near me, the translucent head coming closer as they bent over. 

“Kelseyyy…may I come innnn?” 

“Yes,” I once again answered through bared teeth. 

As the shadow once again dispersed, I opened my eyes whilst still in the middle of seizing. My body started to move like a puppet with too many strings. My arms and legs jutted out at odd angles as I trembled. I moved like a baby deer that was just learning to walk, somehow making it to my feet. The shadow was gone, the seizure was still happening, and I was up and moving around. It didn’t make sense. 

That was when I watched myself walk over to the mirror. My limbs moved so strangely that I almost didn’t believe that what I was seeing was real. It was further reinforced when I suddenly smashed my fist into the glass. The first hit sent out a spiderweb of splinters through the mirror. The second hit was with my forehead, causing blood to gush from my face. It intermingled with the shards still attached to the mirror, and dripped wildly down my face. I pounded the glass with my face and hands until practically nothing was left in the frame. 

Pretty soon after that my dad came home. He was so shocked by the state of me, that he hadn’t even noticed the partially open sliding glass door. I did, though. I noticed. 

Whatever has been showing up in the recordings…I think I made a mistake. I said it could come in. 

Log 9 ended at 3:33am

I started having episodes that even Sugar couldn’t alert in time. At this point it is happening multiple times a day. My good girl is starting to act afraid of me, not wanting to come close unless absolutely necessary. I can’t wait for the surgery at this point. I was afraid of going under the knife before, but now I am more scared of myself. 

I don’t think I am myself anymore. It always feels like someone else is in the room with me…but no one is there. I think they are inside me, inside my head. Now when I have the lapse in memory I check my phone to find videos of myself staring directly into the camera whispering hello in the same wind-like moan as the shadow. 

Someone please help me. 

Log 10 ended at 9:15pm

Part 2

Well… I guess I’m not crazy. At least, not completely. To the commenters who have made their way to my blog, I thank you. Your confirmation that you noted odd occurrences in my videos brings me great comfort. Although you didn’t/can’t see the shadow or hear the voice, there are other things that you saw/heard that can corroborate my story. I don’t even mind the comments from the skeptics either. In fact, I’m impressed that you think I have the time and talent to pull off such a farce. 

When I left you last time, I was getting ready to have another seizure… It was surprisingly a normal one. Nothing weird happened on camera this time. Sugar acted like her usual self. Cradling my head for the entirety, licking my face as I began to wake up. I thought of uploading the video, but decided against it. Instead, I finally saw the doctor. It was a rushed appointment since my frequency of events had increased so dramatically. 

I have some interesting news, I’m not sure if it is good or bad. Personally I don’t even know if I’ve processed it yet. I’ll be receiving surgery soon. This has been a plan that was considered a last ditch effort for the last few years. As I’ve grown, so has my disability. Do any of you know what the corpus callosum is? It’s a bundle of nerves and brain tissue that connects the two hemispheres. I’ll be getting mine severed at the end of the month. The medications are all no longer working. I’m out of options. 

I’ll write again if something interesting happens. For now I’m just going to take some time to breathe. Thanks for following along as always. 

Log 8 ended at 6:30pm

It has been a week since I’ve last been here. As I write this out, I am partially covered in bandages on my hands and face. Bits of pink show through the tan colored film reinforced with gauze. Sugar and I are huddled together tightly in my bed. She hasn’t left my side for a single second since. I even have to follow her out into the yard as she does her business. 

Two days ago I experienced one of the most traumatic seizures of my life. I’m not even sure if I can call this a seizure. Whatever was recorded on my phone was unlike anything I had ever seen before. I’m not really sure where to start other than to tell you that the aura came on like usual. Sugar alerted me well in advance, and I was able to lay down in the middle of the living room floor. 

After setting up the phone, Sugar came to lay by my head. I was alone in the house since my parents were away at work. Everything seemed so normal. But when I woke up, I was no longer laying down. I was standing in front of the mirror that hung on the far side of the living room, covered in blood and broken glass. I remember standing there sobbing, unsure of what to do. I stood in that spot for only a few moments before my dad came home. He took one look at me and dialed 911 right away. 

“Oh my GOD. Kelsey! What the hell happened?” He shouted. 

“Dad,” I started crying harder. “I don’t know.” 

Blood trickled into my mouth as I spoke. Tasting like what the aura tried so hard to duplicate. I’ll save you the details of the trip to the E.R.. Pretty much it consisted of wound irrigation, pulling glass from my skin, stitches, and a check with psych. No one seemed to believe that it was from the seizure. I wouldn’t have either if I were them. That was not normal behaviour but I stuck to my story anyways. It was too embarrassing to tell the truth, that I was being haunted by some kind of shadow person. 

When my parents and the doctors asked if I recorded it, I lied yet again. Said that I didn’t have enough time to set up my phone. I didn’t want them to see. I didn’t want them to treat me like I was crazy too. They couldn’t see what I saw, and I didn’t want to waste valuable time being stuck in the psych ward. Someone or something is vying for my brain. For my body. For me. 

I decided to wait until I arrived home from the hospital to watch the video. I waited until only moments before this upload to watch it. What I saw was one of the scariest things I have ever seen. 

From the position my phone was at, the back wall of the house was in plain view. One half of the wall was a sliding glass door, the other half was hung with family photos and a large ornate mirror. It was square with a sculpted brass frame, courtesy of my great-grandmother. Part of the couch and a side table were visible too. Other than that, Sugar and I were the main focus. 

As the seizure began, my eyelids fluttered and my body twitched. Just as the full body convulsions began, I watched in the background as the sliding glass door began to move on its own. It only opened an inch before coming to a stop. I held my breath as I watched, waiting for something to appear in the glass. That was when I heard the wind-like voice, so soft it was barely audible. 

“Kelseyyy…may I come in?” 

“Yes,” I had managed to get out through clenched teeth. My lips pulled back to expose my teeth and gums as I responded. 

Shadow and mist poured through the crack in the door. It made its way towards me like a swarm of microscopic black bees. A constantly rearranging blob of shadow molded and shaped itself into the resemblance of a human body. Still too ambiguous to tell whether they were a man or a woman, or if it was even supposed to be a human at all. Their arms and legs were too blocky, like the person in the crosswalk light telling you it's safe to move. They stood near me, the translucent head coming closer as they bent over. 

“Kelseyyy…may I come innnn?” 

“Yes,” I once again answered through bared teeth. 

As the shadow once again dispersed, I opened my eyes whilst still in the middle of seizing. My body started to move like a puppet with too many strings. My arms and legs jutted out at odd angles as I trembled. I moved like a baby deer that was just learning to walk, somehow making it to my feet. The shadow was gone, the seizure was still happening, and I was up and moving around. It didn’t make sense. 

That was when I watched myself walk over to the mirror. My limbs moved so strangely that I almost didn’t believe that what I was seeing was real. It was further reinforced when I suddenly smashed my fist into the glass. The first hit sent out a spiderweb of splinters through the mirror. The second hit was with my forehead, causing blood to gush from my face. It intermingled with the shards still attached to the mirror, and dripped wildly down my face. I pounded the glass with my face and hands until practically nothing was left in the frame. 

Pretty soon after that my dad came home. He was so shocked by the state of me, that he hadn’t even noticed the partially open sliding glass door. I did, though. I noticed. 

Whatever has been showing up in the recordings…I think I made a mistake. I said it could come in. 

Log 9 ended at 3:33am

I started having episodes that even Sugar couldn’t alert in time. At this point it is happening multiple times a day. My good girl is starting to act afraid of me, not wanting to come close unless absolutely necessary. I can’t wait for the surgery at this point. I was afraid of going under the knife before, but now I am more scared of myself. 

I don’t think I am myself anymore. It always feels like someone else is in the room with me…but no one is there. I think they are inside me, inside my head. Now when I have the lapse in memory I check my phone to find videos of myself staring directly into the camera whispering hello in the same wind-like moan as the shadow. 

Someone please help me. 

Log 10 ended at 9:15pm

Part 1

Holy shit. I woke up in the middle of the dog park, lying face down in the grass. Sugar was whining and licking the side of my face. The dog slobber was so intense I thought someone had poured a jug of water on me. That is, if the water was sticky and slimy. 

“Hey, girl,” exhaustion filled my voice. 

The sun felt blinding as I peeled my eyelids back. Even while being safely covered under the umbrella of an old tree, it was too bright. The warm and humid air smelled of flowers and petracore. Off in the distance I saw the angry clouds moving closer. 

I felt panicked. An unprompted feeling of lateness urged me to my unsteady feet. There was nowhere I needed to be, not particularly. Being caught outside in a storm though? That was something worth rushing for. Without a second thought I grabbed my phone and shoved it in the fanny pack I was wearing across my chest. 

“Come on, girl. We have to go.” 

Sugar stayed close to my side as we half jogged home. I would have ran, if I had the energy. Thunder rumbled in the distance, making the ground shake. The sun was quickly snuffed out as the clouds encroached upon it. The vibrant colors of the environment around us quickly changed to a cool grey. We were running out of time. 

Just as we reached the edge of the lawn, the rain came. It came down like a thick wall of concrete, pelting the ground with indiscriminate force. The wind blew in large exhales, sending the droplets flying at a diagonal angle. I did my best to shield Sugar with my body, but it was all for naught. 

When we burst through the door soaking wet, my parents looked at us with shocked expressions. A pool of water started to collect on the floor beneath us as it plip-plopped. 

“Just…stay there. I’ll grab some towels.” My dad said, holding up his hands. 

“Yes, sir!” I yelled with a mock salute. As the words left my mouth I winced. My throat had not recovered from the after effects of the seizure. 

“You okay, honey?” My mom asked while eyeing me. 

“Oh yeah, I’m good.” I didn’t feel like having my parents surround me like vultures. I didn’t feel like being coddled. “The run home was a lot. We tried to beat the rain and well…you can see how that turned out.”

“Oh, oh good. Sugar, no. Don’t!” It was like my mom was moving in slow motion. 

Her mouth opened and closed dramatically. Mom’s hands moved slowly from her sides, raising up to protect her face. Sugar was too fast for my mom. The golden dog shook out her coat, sending water flying in all directions. Most of it landed on Mom and I. 

“Hahahaha! Sugar! You poor girl!” I cackled. Since I was already drenched, the extra water didn’t matter much to me. My mom, on the other hand, was quite upset. 

“Goodness gracious. What a mess!” Mom started laughing too. 

When dad finally returned with the towels, I saw a look of amusement cross his face. He kept quiet as he helped clean up, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. As my father knelt down to soak up the water on the floor, I noticed that his hair had grown more grey around his ears. I felt pride and sadness at the same time. The signs of aging were bittersweet. 

“How was the dog park?” Dad asked. 

“It was pretty nice getting out and playing with Sugar. Our backyard is only so big.” I thought about keeping the seizure to myself but decided against it. “I had another one…” 

“Have you been taking your medication?” Concern crossed the older man’s face. 

“Of course, like clockwork. Maybe my body has grown too acclimated to the dosage I’m at. I’ll have to schedule an appointment to see if I can get it changed.” 

“That sounds like a good idea, kiddo.” My dad frowned, and then smiled before ruffling my hair. “Just let us know if you need anything.” 

As soon as I was no longer dripping onto the floor, Sugar and I made our way to my room. I laid a fresh towel on my bed and had Sugar lay atop it. She snuggled into herself, grateful for the warmth. Switching out of my drenched clothes, I climbed onto the bed with her. 

“Guess we should check the video, huh?” I looked into Sugar’s eyes as I spoke. A *woof* and a kiss later, and I pulled the phone from the fanny pack. Thankfully, the inside of the bag was still dry. 

As I turned on the screen, I realized the phone was still recording. Clicking my tongue in annoyance, I pressed the stop button. Being in a rush to beat the rain had caused me to make a crucial misstep. Using my finger to scroll the extremely long entry, I moved the video back to the beginning. 

I won’t bore you too much with the details of my seizure this time. It was the same as always. Foaming, convulsions, muscle strain…the usual. Although I was behaving the same, Sugar was not. From the onset of the seizure, my medical alert dog laid across my body perpendicular. Instead of being by my head, she was draped across my torso staring directly into the camera. 

“What the hell?” The words left my mouth as I watched the video. 

As Sugar stared directly at the phone, I felt my body tense. She seemed aware of the recording. A little too aware. She didn’t whine, she didn’t growl, she didn’t bark. All she did was fix her gaze, droopy eyes locked in place. Then, a shadow passed over the phone. 

I paused the video and rewound it a couple of seconds. The shadow passed over again. It was fast, like something flew past the phone. I rewound it a second time. As the shadow zipped by again, I watched as Sugar’s unblinking eyes followed. On the third rewind I zoomed in on the screen, hoping to catch more details. By the fifth rewatch, I dropped the phone onto the bed. 

I wondered if my ears and eyes deceived me. The mist and shadow formed into something concrete. Four distinguishable digits reached over the top of the phone. A translucent hand reaching from the other side of the camera. The wind blew in soft, slow moans but there was another sound that registered. 

“H-hello?”

I had heard this before. I noted it in my last log. A strange melodic almost-voice. I felt sick, knowing that I was laying there vulnerable and unable to defend myself. There had to be a mistake. 

I rewatched the video over twenty times, and the result was always the same. The shadow of the hand, and the breathy hello happened every time. Feeling my panic grow with each moment, I called out loudly. 

“MOM!” 

Log 3 ended at 5:40pm

The conversation with my parents didn’t go the way I’d hoped. Instead of confirming that they too heard and saw what I did, they scolded Sugar. I felt fury fill me as I tried to keep my emotions in control. 

“Maybe there is something wrong with her,” my mom looked at Sugar with concern. 

“Mom! There is NOTHING wrong with Sugar. Did you not see the hand or hear the strange voice? Come on, can’t you see that she’s protecting me?! I’ll play it again.” 

“Kelsey, stop. We have watched them eight times each. We are not seeing or hearing what you’re talking about.” Mom pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned back in her seat. 

“Hmm. Maybe there was a bug or maybe Sugar smelled some gas or something.” My father placed a hand onto mom’s knee, squeezing lightly. “I don’t think we should be jumping to conclusions. Has Sugar been acting normal aside from this? Has she been alerting you properly?” 

I took in a large breath. “Yes. In the entire time I’ve had her, she has never missed a seizure. In fact, she catches them way earlier than I’d expected. I promise you, there is nothing wrong with her.” 

“Then that’s all that matters.” My dad smiled. 

Mom looked like she had more to say, but dad squeezed her leg again and she shut her mouth. I knew I was way too grown to be having a temper tantrum, but that didn’t stop me from stomping off to my room. Sugar followed close behind wagging her tail. Completely unaware of the heated conversation her humans just had. 

I felt angry and defensive. I know my mom didn’t mean it, but she practically insulted Sugar and called me crazy in one go. I had even trusted them enough to play the video where the towel had fallen off. My stomach twisted and turned as I shut the bedroom door behind me. 

“This is bullshit.” I groaned. 

Maybe I really am going crazy.

Log 4 ended at 1:30AM

In one of my earlier logs, I had mentioned a connection I’d noticed while watching the videos. I thought that because the timing of Sugar’s odd actions matched up with the end of the seizure, maybe it had something to do with that. Based on the fact that the shadow and voice happened mid-convulsion, the theory no longer worked.

 I feel lost and confused. 

I feel like I have no one to turn to. No one to ask for help or advice. I started to fear the seizures, which only brought them on more. Within the last two days I have had three seizures. The trio of them were short (around 15 minutes or so) and nothing strange was caught on the videos. 

As I’m typing this, I felt a boop on my thigh. *sigh* I guess it’s time for another. 

Log 5 ended at 11:59pm 

I think there was someone outside my bedroom window. 

The grand mal seizure was the longest one I’ve had by far. The video came in at 36:22. What took even longer was my comeback afterwards. I was in the middle of the bed, my phone propped up on the bedside table. With the way the device was angled, part of my desk and the window were in full view. 

Sugar stayed beside me, whining and panting softly. She seemed scared and panicked as she looked back and forth between me and the window. Because the lights were on in my room, the glass seemed to be shrouded in darkness, aside from the reflections of the inside of my room. 

Then, something moved. Pressing pause, I zoomed into the frame. It looked like the silhouette of a person. Faint whispers of half a head and one shoulder. As I pressed play they moved towards the center of the window. I could now clearly see the outline of an upper body from the chest up. 

I couldn’t tell if they were a man or woman. All I had to work with was an ambiguous blob, shaped like a chalk outline of a person. Very, very slowly the window started to rise. It opened about half an inch before coming to a stop. 

“Kelsey.” The same melodic, concrete flute sounded. 

I felt fear fill my exhausted body as I looked up from the phone. The window was still open. Oh shit, I thought. Before I could get up and close it another voice sounded from the recording. 

“H-hello?” 

My eyes widened in shock as I looked back at the phone. A garbled and confused voice came from my own mouth. My lips barely moved as I responded to whoever was outside the window. As soon as I spoke, the shadow disappeared. 

I clicked the phone screen off and tossed it away. My heart beat wildly within my chest as I stood up from the bed. Stumbling forward, I slammed the window shut and turned the lock. This was enough for tonight. I can’t do this. 

If someone ends up finding this blog, if you have any ideas about what is happening to me… I’d be grateful for the help. 

Log 6 ended at 12:50am

At the request of two people who have managed to find my blog, I will be uploading sections of the video. They will be cropped or blurred to hide my body/face, so that you can focus on what is happening in the background. I will also include the full unadulterated audio. 

My parents’ reactions were not satisfactory. I’m hoping that you can see and hear what I do. If not, well then shit… I don’t know what else to do. 

I feel another one coming on, I’ll be back later. 

Log 7 ended at 8:25am

Part 1

Holy shit. I woke up in the middle of the dog park, lying face down in the grass. Sugar was whining and licking the side of my face. The dog slobber was so intense I thought someone had poured a jug of water on me. That is, if the water was sticky and slimy. 

“Hey, girl,” exhaustion filled my voice. 

The sun felt blinding as I peeled my eyelids back. Even while being safely covered under the umbrella of an old tree, it was too bright. The warm and humid air smelled of flowers and petracore. Off in the distance I saw the angry clouds moving closer. 

I felt panicked. An unprompted feeling of lateness urged me to my unsteady feet. There was nowhere I needed to be, not particularly. Being caught outside in a storm though? That was something worth rushing for. Without a second thought I grabbed my phone and shoved it in the fanny pack I was wearing across my chest. 

“Come on, girl. We have to go.” 

Sugar stayed close to my side as we half jogged home. I would have ran, if I had the energy. Thunder rumbled in the distance, making the ground shake. The sun was quickly snuffed out as the clouds encroached upon it. The vibrant colors of the environment around us quickly changed to a cool grey. We were running out of time. 

Just as we reached the edge of the lawn, the rain came. It came down like a thick wall of concrete, pelting the ground with indiscriminate force. The wind blew in large exhales, sending the droplets flying at a diagonal angle. I did my best to shield Sugar with my body, but it was all for naught. 

When we burst through the door soaking wet, my parents looked at us with shocked expressions. A pool of water started to collect on the floor beneath us as it plip-plopped. 

“Just…stay there. I’ll grab some towels.” My dad said, holding up his hands. 

“Yes, sir!” I yelled with a mock salute. As the words left my mouth I winced. My throat had not recovered from the after effects of the seizure. 

“You okay, honey?” My mom asked while eyeing me. 

“Oh yeah, I’m good.” I didn’t feel like having my parents surround me like vultures. I didn’t feel like being coddled. “The run home was a lot. We tried to beat the rain and well…you can see how that turned out.”

“Oh, oh good. Sugar, no. Don’t!” It was like my mom was moving in slow motion. 

Her mouth opened and closed dramatically. Mom’s hands moved slowly from her sides, raising up to protect her face. Sugar was too fast for my mom. The golden dog shook out her coat, sending water flying in all directions. Most of it landed on Mom and I. 

“Hahahaha! Sugar! You poor girl!” I cackled. Since I was already drenched, the extra water didn’t matter much to me. My mom, on the other hand, was quite upset. 

“Goodness gracious. What a mess!” Mom started laughing too. 

When dad finally returned with the towels, I saw a look of amusement cross his face. He kept quiet as he helped clean up, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. As my father knelt down to soak up the water on the floor, I noticed that his hair had grown more grey around his ears. I felt pride and sadness at the same time. The signs of aging were bittersweet. 

“How was the dog park?” Dad asked. 

“It was pretty nice getting out and playing with Sugar. Our backyard is only so big.” I thought about keeping the seizure to myself but decided against it. “I had another one…” 

“Have you been taking your medication?” Concern crossed the older man’s face. 

“Of course, like clockwork. Maybe my body has grown too acclimated to the dosage I’m at. I’ll have to schedule an appointment to see if I can get it changed.” 

“That sounds like a good idea, kiddo.” My dad frowned, and then smiled before ruffling my hair. “Just let us know if you need anything.” 

As soon as I was no longer dripping onto the floor, Sugar and I made our way to my room. I laid a fresh towel on my bed and had Sugar lay atop it. She snuggled into herself, grateful for the warmth. Switching out of my drenched clothes, I climbed onto the bed with her. 

“Guess we should check the video, huh?” I looked into Sugar’s eyes as I spoke. A *woof* and a kiss later, and I pulled the phone from the fanny pack. Thankfully, the inside of the bag was still dry. 

As I turned on the screen, I realized the phone was still recording. Clicking my tongue in annoyance, I pressed the stop button. Being in a rush to beat the rain had caused me to make a crucial misstep. Using my finger to scroll the extremely long entry, I moved the video back to the beginning. 

I won’t bore you too much with the details of my seizure this time. It was the same as always. Foaming, convulsions, muscle strain…the usual. Although I was behaving the same, Sugar was not. From the onset of the seizure, my medical alert dog laid across my body perpendicular. Instead of being by my head, she was draped across my torso staring directly into the camera. 

“What the hell?” The words left my mouth as I watched the video. 

As Sugar stared directly at the phone, I felt my body tense. She seemed aware of the recording. A little too aware. She didn’t whine, she didn’t growl, she didn’t bark. All she did was fix her gaze, droopy eyes locked in place. Then, a shadow passed over the phone. 

I paused the video and rewound it a couple of seconds. The shadow passed over again. It was fast, like something flew past the phone. I rewound it a second time. As the shadow zipped by again, I watched as Sugar’s unblinking eyes followed. On the third rewind I zoomed in on the screen, hoping to catch more details. By the fifth rewatch, I dropped the phone onto the bed. 

I wondered if my ears and eyes deceived me. The mist and shadow formed into something concrete. Four distinguishable digits reached over the top of the phone. A translucent hand reaching from the other side of the camera. The wind blew in soft, slow moans but there was another sound that registered. 

“H-hello?”

I had heard this before. I noted it in my last log. A strange melodic almost-voice. I felt sick, knowing that I was laying there vulnerable and unable to defend myself. There had to be a mistake. 

I rewatched the video over twenty times, and the result was always the same. The shadow of the hand, and the breathy hello happened every time. Feeling my panic grow with each moment, I called out loudly. 

“MOM!” 

Log 3 ended at 5:40pm

The conversation with my parents didn’t go the way I’d hoped. Instead of confirming that they too heard and saw what I did, they scolded Sugar. I felt fury fill me as I tried to keep my emotions in control. 

“Maybe there is something wrong with her,” my mom looked at Sugar with concern. 

“Mom! There is NOTHING wrong with Sugar. Did you not see the hand or hear the strange voice? Come on, can’t you see that she’s protecting me?! I’ll play it again.” 

“Kelsey, stop. We have watched them eight times each. We are not seeing or hearing what you’re talking about.” Mom pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned back in her seat. 

“Hmm. Maybe there was a bug or maybe Sugar smelled some gas or something.” My father placed a hand onto mom’s knee, squeezing lightly. “I don’t think we should be jumping to conclusions. Has Sugar been acting normal aside from this? Has she been alerting you properly?” 

I took in a large breath. “Yes. In the entire time I’ve had her, she has never missed a seizure. In fact, she catches them way earlier than I’d expected. I promise you, there is nothing wrong with her.” 

“Then that’s all that matters.” My dad smiled. 

Mom looked like she had more to say, but dad squeezed her leg again and she shut her mouth. I knew I was way too grown to be having a temper tantrum, but that didn’t stop me from stomping off to my room. Sugar followed close behind wagging her tail. Completely unaware of the heated conversation her humans just had. 

I felt angry and defensive. I know my mom didn’t mean it, but she practically insulted Sugar and called me crazy in one go. I had even trusted them enough to play the video where the towel had fallen off. My stomach twisted and turned as I shut the bedroom door behind me. 

“This is bullshit.” I groaned. 

Maybe I really am going crazy.

Log 4 ended at 1:30AM

In one of my earlier logs, I had mentioned a connection I’d noticed while watching the videos. I thought that because the timing of Sugar’s odd actions matched up with the end of the seizure, maybe it had something to do with that. Based on the fact that the shadow and voice happened mid-convulsion, the theory no longer worked.

 I feel lost and confused. 

I feel like I have no one to turn to. No one to ask for help or advice. I started to fear the seizures, which only brought them on more. Within the last two days I have had three seizures. The trio of them were short (around 15 minutes or so) and nothing strange was caught on the videos. 

As I’m typing this, I felt a boop on my thigh. *sigh* I guess it’s time for another. 

Log 5 ended at 11:59pm 

I think there was someone outside my bedroom window. 

The grand mal seizure was the longest one I’ve had by far. The video came in at 36:22. What took even longer was my comeback afterwards. I was in the middle of the bed, my phone propped up on the bedside table. With the way the device was angled, part of my desk and the window were in full view. 

Sugar stayed beside me, whining and panting softly. She seemed scared and panicked as she looked back and forth between me and the window. Because the lights were on in my room, the glass seemed to be shrouded in darkness, aside from the reflections of the inside of my room. 

Then, something moved. Pressing pause, I zoomed into the frame. It looked like the silhouette of a person. Faint whispers of half a head and one shoulder. As I pressed play they moved towards the center of the window. I could now clearly see the outline of an upper body from the chest up. 

I couldn’t tell if they were a man or woman. All I had to work with was an ambiguous blob, shaped like a chalk outline of a person. Very, very slowly the window started to rise. It opened about half an inch before coming to a stop. 

“Kelsey.” The same melodic, concrete flute sounded. 

I felt fear fill my exhausted body as I looked up from the phone. The window was still open. Oh shit, I thought. Before I could get up and close it another voice sounded from the recording. 

“H-hello?” 

My eyes widened in shock as I looked back at the phone. A garbled and confused voice came from my own mouth. My lips barely moved as I responded to whoever was outside the window. As soon as I spoke, the shadow disappeared. 

I clicked the phone screen off and tossed it away. My heart beat wildly within my chest as I stood up from the bed. Stumbling forward, I slammed the window shut and turned the lock. This was enough for tonight. I can’t do this. 

If someone ends up finding this blog, if you have any ideas about what is happening to me… I’d be grateful for the help. 

Log 6 ended at 12:50am

At the request of two people who have managed to find my blog, I will be uploading sections of the video. They will be cropped or blurred to hide my body/face, so that you can focus on what is happening in the background. I will also include the full unadulterated audio. 

My parents’ reactions were not satisfactory. I’m hoping that you can see and hear what I do. If not, well then shit… I don’t know what else to do. 

I feel another one coming on, I’ll be back later. 

Log 7 ended at 8:25am

Part 3

Part 1

Holy shit. I woke up in the middle of the dog park, lying face down in the grass. Sugar was whining and licking the side of my face. The dog slobber was so intense I thought someone had poured a jug of water on me. That is, if the water was sticky and slimy. 

“Hey, girl,” exhaustion filled my voice. 

The sun felt blinding as I peeled my eyelids back. Even while being safely covered under the umbrella of an old tree, it was too bright. The warm and humid air smelled of flowers and petracore. Off in the distance I saw the angry clouds moving closer. 

I felt panicked. An unprompted feeling of lateness urged me to my unsteady feet. There was nowhere I needed to be, not particularly. Being caught outside in a storm though? That was something worth rushing for. Without a second thought I grabbed my phone and shoved it in the fanny pack I was wearing across my chest. 

“Come on, girl. We have to go.” 

Sugar stayed close to my side as we half jogged home. I would have ran, if I had the energy. Thunder rumbled in the distance, making the ground shake. The sun was quickly snuffed out as the clouds encroached upon it. The vibrant colors of the environment around us quickly changed to a cool grey. We were running out of time. 

Just as we reached the edge of the lawn, the rain came. It came down like a thick wall of concrete, pelting the ground with indiscriminate force. The wind blew in large exhales, sending the droplets flying at a diagonal angle. I did my best to shield Sugar with my body, but it was all for naught. 

When we burst through the door soaking wet, my parents looked at us with shocked expressions. A pool of water started to collect on the floor beneath us as it plip-plopped. 

“Just…stay there. I’ll grab some towels.” My dad said, holding up his hands. 

“Yes, sir!” I yelled with a mock salute. As the words left my mouth I winced. My throat had not recovered from the after effects of the seizure. 

“You okay, honey?” My mom asked while eyeing me. 

“Oh yeah, I’m good.” I didn’t feel like having my parents surround me like vultures. I didn’t feel like being coddled. “The run home was a lot. We tried to beat the rain and well…you can see how that turned out.”

“Oh, oh good. Sugar, no. Don’t!” It was like my mom was moving in slow motion. 

Her mouth opened and closed dramatically. Mom’s hands moved slowly from her sides, raising up to protect her face. Sugar was too fast for my mom. The golden dog shook out her coat, sending water flying in all directions. Most of it landed on Mom and I. 

“Hahahaha! Sugar! You poor girl!” I cackled. Since I was already drenched, the extra water didn’t matter much to me. My mom, on the other hand, was quite upset. 

“Goodness gracious. What a mess!” Mom started laughing too. 

When dad finally returned with the towels, I saw a look of amusement cross his face. He kept quiet as he helped clean up, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. As my father knelt down to soak up the water on the floor, I noticed that his hair had grown more grey around his ears. I felt pride and sadness at the same time. The signs of aging were bittersweet. 

“How was the dog park?” Dad asked. 

“It was pretty nice getting out and playing with Sugar. Our backyard is only so big.” I thought about keeping the seizure to myself but decided against it. “I had another one…” 

“Have you been taking your medication?” Concern crossed the older man’s face. 

“Of course, like clockwork. Maybe my body has grown too acclimated to the dosage I’m at. I’ll have to schedule an appointment to see if I can get it changed.” 

“That sounds like a good idea, kiddo.” My dad frowned, and then smiled before ruffling my hair. “Just let us know if you need anything.” 

As soon as I was no longer dripping onto the floor, Sugar and I made our way to my room. I laid a fresh towel on my bed and had Sugar lay atop it. She snuggled into herself, grateful for the warmth. Switching out of my drenched clothes, I climbed onto the bed with her. 

“Guess we should check the video, huh?” I looked into Sugar’s eyes as I spoke. A *woof* and a kiss later, and I pulled the phone from the fanny pack. Thankfully, the inside of the bag was still dry. 

As I turned on the screen, I realized the phone was still recording. Clicking my tongue in annoyance, I pressed the stop button. Being in a rush to beat the rain had caused me to make a crucial misstep. Using my finger to scroll the extremely long entry, I moved the video back to the beginning. 

I won’t bore you too much with the details of my seizure this time. It was the same as always. Foaming, convulsions, muscle strain…the usual. Although I was behaving the same, Sugar was not. From the onset of the seizure, my medical alert dog laid across my body perpendicular. Instead of being by my head, she was draped across my torso staring directly into the camera. 

“What the hell?” The words left my mouth as I watched the video. 

As Sugar stared directly at the phone, I felt my body tense. She seemed aware of the recording. A little too aware. She didn’t whine, she didn’t growl, she didn’t bark. All she did was fix her gaze, droopy eyes locked in place. Then, a shadow passed over the phone. 

I paused the video and rewound it a couple of seconds. The shadow passed over again. It was fast, like something flew past the phone. I rewound it a second time. As the shadow zipped by again, I watched as Sugar’s unblinking eyes followed. On the third rewind I zoomed in on the screen, hoping to catch more details. By the fifth rewatch, I dropped the phone onto the bed. 

I wondered if my ears and eyes deceived me. The mist and shadow formed into something concrete. Four distinguishable digits reached over the top of the phone. A translucent hand reaching from the other side of the camera. The wind blew in soft, slow moans but there was another sound that registered. 

“H-hello?”

I had heard this before. I noted it in my last log. A strange melodic almost-voice. I felt sick, knowing that I was laying there vulnerable and unable to defend myself. There had to be a mistake. 

I rewatched the video over twenty times, and the result was always the same. The shadow of the hand, and the breathy hello happened every time. Feeling my panic grow with each moment, I called out loudly. 

“MOM!” 

Log 3 ended at 5:40pm

The conversation with my parents didn’t go the way I’d hoped. Instead of confirming that they too heard and saw what I did, they scolded Sugar. I felt fury fill me as I tried to keep my emotions in control. 

“Maybe there is something wrong with her,” my mom looked at Sugar with concern. 

“Mom! There is NOTHING wrong with Sugar. Did you not see the hand or hear the strange voice? Come on, can’t you see that she’s protecting me?! I’ll play it again.” 

“Kelsey, stop. We have watched them eight times each. We are not seeing or hearing what you’re talking about.” Mom pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned back in her seat. 

“Hmm. Maybe there was a bug or maybe Sugar smelled some gas or something.” My father placed a hand onto mom’s knee, squeezing lightly. “I don’t think we should be jumping to conclusions. Has Sugar been acting normal aside from this? Has she been alerting you properly?” 

I took in a large breath. “Yes. In the entire time I’ve had her, she has never missed a seizure. In fact, she catches them way earlier than I’d expected. I promise you, there is nothing wrong with her.” 

“Then that’s all that matters.” My dad smiled. 

Mom looked like she had more to say, but dad squeezed her leg again and she shut her mouth. I knew I was way too grown to be having a temper tantrum, but that didn’t stop me from stomping off to my room. Sugar followed close behind wagging her tail. Completely unaware of the heated conversation her humans just had. 

I felt angry and defensive. I know my mom didn’t mean it, but she practically insulted Sugar and called me crazy in one go. I had even trusted them enough to play the video where the towel had fallen off. My stomach twisted and turned as I shut the bedroom door behind me. 

“This is bullshit.” I groaned. 

Maybe I really am going crazy.

Log 4 ended at 1:30AM

In one of my earlier logs, I had mentioned a connection I’d noticed while watching the videos. I thought that because the timing of Sugar’s odd actions matched up with the end of the seizure, maybe it had something to do with that. Based on the fact that the shadow and voice happened mid-convulsion, the theory no longer worked.

 I feel lost and confused. 

I feel like I have no one to turn to. No one to ask for help or advice. I started to fear the seizures, which only brought them on more. Within the last two days I have had three seizures. The trio of them were short (around 15 minutes or so) and nothing strange was caught on the videos. 

As I’m typing this, I felt a boop on my thigh. *sigh* I guess it’s time for another. 

Log 5 ended at 11:59pm 

I think there was someone outside my bedroom window. 

The grand mal seizure was the longest one I’ve had by far. The video came in at 36:22. What took even longer was my comeback afterwards. I was in the middle of the bed, my phone propped up on the bedside table. With the way the device was angled, part of my desk and the window were in full view. 

Sugar stayed beside me, whining and panting softly. She seemed scared and panicked as she looked back and forth between me and the window. Because the lights were on in my room, the glass seemed to be shrouded in darkness, aside from the reflections of the inside of my room. 

Then, something moved. Pressing pause, I zoomed into the frame. It looked like the silhouette of a person. Faint whispers of half a head and one shoulder. As I pressed play they moved towards the center of the window. I could now clearly see the outline of an upper body from the chest up. 

I couldn’t tell if they were a man or woman. All I had to work with was an ambiguous blob, shaped like a chalk outline of a person. Very, very slowly the window started to rise. It opened about half an inch before coming to a stop. 

“Kelsey.” The same melodic, concrete flute sounded. 

I felt fear fill my exhausted body as I looked up from the phone. The window was still open. Oh shit, I thought. Before I could get up and close it another voice sounded from the recording. 

“H-hello?” 

My eyes widened in shock as I looked back at the phone. A garbled and confused voice came from my own mouth. My lips barely moved as I responded to whoever was outside the window. As soon as I spoke, the shadow disappeared. 

I clicked the phone screen off and tossed it away. My heart beat wildly within my chest as I stood up from the bed. Stumbling forward, I slammed the window shut and turned the lock. This was enough for tonight. I can’t do this. 

If someone ends up finding this blog, if you have any ideas about what is happening to me… I’d be grateful for the help. 

Log 6 ended at 12:50am

At the request of two people who have managed to find my blog, I will be uploading sections of the video. They will be cropped or blurred to hide my body/face, so that you can focus on what is happening in the background. I will also include the full unadulterated audio. 

My parents’ reactions were not satisfactory. I’m hoping that you can see and hear what I do. If not, well then shit… I don’t know what else to do. 

I feel another one coming on, I’ll be back later. 

Log 7 ended at 8:25am

As I stood in front of the dark purple wine bottles I felt a sense of deja vu cross over me. I’ve frequented the grocery store enough times to know the entire layout like the back of my hand. The deja vu stemmed from something other than a fleeting memory of a time passed. That was when I felt the tap on my thigh. I whipped my head around wildly, the suddenness of contact in the empty aisle made me panic. Then I tasted blood in my mouth. Another tap on my thigh. 

“Oh, Sugar. I forgot you were there,” I said softly. My hand scratched behind the ear of the golden lab. She panted softly and booped my leg again. 

The bitterness of the metal on my tongue and the alerts from Sugar confirmed the sense of deja vu. I was getting ready to have a seizure. Sighing in annoyance, I sank to the floor. Being stuck in an aisle full of glass bottles wasn’t my favorite choice, but I’d have to make due. Before fully laying down in the middle of the pathway, I set my phone up and pressed record. 

I never remember what happens during my seizures. At the request of my family and doctors, I kept track of each one. Unless the video was a longer time stamp than normal, I never did anything with them aside from save them to the cloud. If the video went longer than 15-20 minutes (including my arduous wakeup from such an intense event) I’d send them to my mom or doctor for review. 

This time wouldn’t be any different. I had only had Sugar, my medical alert dog, for about a month now. In the time we have spent together, she has always been right and never once left my side. In the aftermath, I would wake up with her laying down beside me protecting my head. If it took me longer to rouse, she would do her best to wake me with big sloppy kisses. 

“I’ll be back soon,” I said to Sugar as I closed my eyes. 

That was where my memory was cut out. I was grateful that I had managed not to pee my pants in the middle of the store. My hands flailed up and down my body as I laid on the ground, checking for injuries. As my hands made their way to my head, I noticed a lack of sensation. Where a big ball of fur should have been, the space was empty. 

“Sugar?” I called out with a sore throat. My voice came out dry and raspy. I waited to hear the sound of metal jingling, but the air around me was silent. Rolling onto my side, I reached a shaky finger out and pressed the red button on my phone. The recording stopped and saved itself. 

“S-sugar?” I had now rolled onto my stomach and was staring at the aisle in front of me. 

That was when I saw her. Sugar stood at attention a few paces down, facing in the same direction I was. Her ears were pulled back and her head was lowered. I watched as her lip quivered, fangs exposed in a silent growl. I stuck the phone in my pocket and crawled to her on my hands and knees. 

“What’s going on girl?” I asked while inching closer. 

Although the dog was taking on an angry and defensive stance, there was no reason for her reaction. The aisle was still completely empty, aside from the two of us. I blinked my eyes and tried to focus my vision, wondering if I had missed the swift exit of a person. Even so, I saw nothing. As I laid my hand on her backside, Sugar’s rigid stance finally softened. 

Turning around swiftly, the golden ball of fur licked wildly at my face. I felt my vigor returning to me. Wine seemed like a bad idea, now that this had happened, even if it wasn’t for me. I no longer trusted myself to carry a plastic bag full of glass bottles on my walk home. Mom would have to return to the store and get them herself. She had been trying to get me to leave the house for the first time in a while… 

I started staying in more as the seizures increased. Afraid of what would happen if I had one out by myself. It seems that life had funny plans, and decided to beat me to the punch. Pride filled me as I picked myself up off the floor and onto my feet. I had managed to survive, thanks to Sugar. She was worth every single cent that my parents had managed to scrape together. Maybe now, I could have a normal life. 

On my walk home, I decided to call my mom and tell her what had happened. As I unlocked the screen, the video I had taken during my seizure came into view. The time stamp was 20:06 and fell within the range of normal. I exited out of the video and dialed mom. She answered in three rings. 

“It happened,” was all I said. 

“Oh goodness, are you alright? Are you safe?” My mother’s voice was filled with restrained panic. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I actually already started walking back. Sorry, but the wine is going to have to wait. I feel too weak to be carrying anything home right now.” I sighed. 

“Thanks for trying kiddo, I guess you just ripped the bandage off.” Mom chuckled. Her light hearted laugh reminded me of a fairy. 

“I’ll see you in a bit.” I hung the phone up and shoved it back in my pocket. The chirping of crickets and the croaking of frogs filled the night air. As I tilted my head back, stars filled my vision. They seemed brighter than usual, no clouds to hide their beauty. Sugar trotted beside me, her soft pants a reassuring sound. 

“Thanks for looking out for me,” I whispered to her softly. She was a damn good girl. 

When I arrived home, I was met with my mothers open arms. Her and dad fawned over me, checking to make sure I hadn’t hurt myself while seizing on the floor. When they found no evidence of injury, I was finally released from their grip. Freedom was not as easy to attain, when you have a disability like mine. 

I don’t know exactly what made me check the recording. Normally it was something that was too harsh for me to witness. Seeing myself in such a vulnerable position made my stomach twist. Curiosity was what really drew me to check the video. Although Sugar was acting perfectly normal, there was a part deep within me that wondered if something had happened when I was lost in oblivion. 

Trying to ignore my convulsing body, I fixed my gaze on the area in the background. At the start of the video, Sugar had been laying beside me. In fact, she was laying with me for practically the entirety of my seizure. It wasn’t until when my body had stilled, that she stood up from her spot. In the few minutes where I was essentially sleeping, Sugar was roused by something I could not see. 

The dog's ears had perked up first, as if hearing a sound at a frequency unable to be picked up on video. The second thing she did was lift her snout into the air and sniff around wildly. That was when her hair stood up on the back of her neck. Lips receding to expose her teeth and gums. Sugar took a controlled step forward, her jaw opening and closing quickly. Biting and snapping at the empty space in front of her. 

For some reason, as I watched the video, a seed of fear planted itself in my core. The low growl of Sugar echoed in my ears. I felt the hairs on my own body stand at attention. I paused the video quickly and looked around my room. The golden dog rested in a croissant shape at the end of the bed, looking completely unbothered. Seeing her sense of calm slowed my heart rate considerably. 

“I guess it was nothing, huh.” I said to no one in particular. 

Clicking the button on the side of my phone, the screen turned dark. I was faced with a distorted reflection of my own face in the tempered glass. My skin looked saggy and my eyes looked sunken into my head. Sickened by the fun-house mirror effect, I tossed the accursed device onto the bed. 

“Wanna go potty, Sugar?” I asked the sleeping dog. 

She lifted her head lazily and sniffed the air. Her sleepy eyes went from droopy to fully open. Sugar looked around the room, uncurling from her position on the bed. I started to feel twitchy, wondering if I was unlucky enough to have two seizures in one night. 

After the dog sniffed the perimeter of the room and came back to stand at the edge of the bed, I finally relaxed. She had neither growled or alerted me with the nose boop on my leg. I was safe. Standing up myself, we made our way out of the room. 

The sliding glass door to the backyard opened easily. The cool night air filled my nostrils, it smelled crisp and clean. I relished in the beauty of the night, wishing I could stay out there until the sun came up. Fatigue was the only thing keeping me from enacting such a plan. 

“All done, girl?” I asked as she trotted back from the edge of the yard. 

A soft *woof* was all the response I needed. 

Sugar’s nails click-clacked on the floor as we made our way back to my room. As we passed by the kitchen, I snuck a treat from the cupboard and gave it to the golden fuzz-ball. She crunched down on it greedily and then looked up at me for more. I shook my head with a playful frown on my face. I didn’t want to spoil her too much. 

Sleep came fast and easy for the both of us. The exhaustion of the day’s events hitting all at once. As I drifted off into the darkness behind my eyelids, I thought of the video once more. 

Now, you are probably wondering why I decided to write all of this down for you to read. At first, I wondered why myself. Was it purely for documentation? Was I doing this to keep track of my symptoms to make the doctors' lives a little easier? No. I wrote this down to try and save what little bits of sanity I have left. A selfish scream into the void, looking to find clarity and answers. 

(From here on out, things only get worse.) edited at 7:08pm

I started having seizures when I was four years old. Age and epilepsy liked to punch holes in my memory, so most of what I’m about to write down is from a secondhand retelling. Both my parents say that it started out…practically unnoticeable. Absent seizures were much harder to catch than grand mal. Instead of my body shaking violently as I struggled to breathe, I would stare off into space completely unmoving. 

“You were a little spooky as a child,” my mother had said one evening after I poked and prodded her for information. “Like a doll, or a zombie. I could talk to you, poke you, snap my fingers in your face and…nothing.” 

“I’m sure we missed some of the signs at first, but as soon as we realized something was wrong your mom and I rushed you to the emergency room. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared. Well, until you started having the more intense seizures later on.” My dad’s voice was full of concern. 

“Kelsey, honey, is it alright if we talk about this more later? Work is calling,” my mom sighed in defeat. 

Around middle school, during the summer between 7th and 8th grade was when I had my first grand mal seizure. I remember playing out in the front yard with a few of the neighborhood kids, and then came-to sometime later laying on the ground. My parents' concerned faces were above me, and my shorts were wet. I remember being confused and humiliated as my foggy brain woke up. Before I knew it, I was being shipped off to the hospital in my piss soaked clothes. 

Having epilepsy was difficult and extremely embarrassing. It felt like a death sentence, or better yet, a life sentence. For the remainder of my life, I would be stuck somewhere between constant check ups and a lack of freedom. 

“Did something cause me to be like this?” I had asked one of the doctors sometime during freshman year. 

“After all of the rigorous testing we’ve done… No, no I don’t believe so. Even though medicine is a science, it doesn’t always have an answer. At least not yet. The human body is still a mystery in many ways. I wish I knew the cause and a way to fix it, but I don’t.” My neurologist Dr. Sharma was a nice lady. 

At the time, it both comforted and unnerved me to hear her answer. I didn’t have any sort of head trauma, or any family members with epilepsy. Genetics and environmental factors didn’t apply to my case. At least my parents had no reason to blame themselves for my state. Deep down though, I was sad. I just wanted concrete facts and answers, but all I had to go on was blind faith. Faith in the way that life is unabashedly cruel and didn’t pick favorites.

Regardless of who you were, you could always write your name on the dance-card of the devil. Fate had chosen to curse me with something I could not win against. Instead, I had to accept that this was the way my life would be, and there was nothing I could do to fix it. 

Now that I have covered my plain and boring backstory, I guess I should introduce myself. Hi, my name is Kelsey Stewart. Currently, as I’m typing this up I am 22 years-old. I want to extend my gratitude, thank you for taking the time to read this silly blog (if anyone reads at all). Although I am using this digital journal to record my strange encounters in life for my own sake, if you end up finding your way here… well, just keep an open mind as you read. 

Log 1 ended at 8:35pm

A few days after my first upload, I had another seizure. Sugar had alerted me with a few minutes to spare. Enough time to make it from the bathroom to my bedroom. Skin still covered in dew drops, a white bath towel wrapped around my chest. I was unlucky enough to be booped as I exited the shower. The narrow shape of the bathroom and the porcelain appliances were not a safe place to be. Especially if I had the time to move elsewhere. The taste of blood hadn’t come yet. 

Just as I stepped into my bedroom, the sense of deja vu hit. I felt as if I was stumbling through a dream. Fighting my way through the mental fog, I threw myself into the middle of the floor. As I set up the phone, the bitterness of metal hit my tongue. It was almost time. The thick carpet and throw pillows were a safe embrace as I drifted further off. And then everything went dark. 

I awoke to Sugar standing over me, licking my face. During the convulsions my towel had fallen undone, it laid in a bunched up mess on the floor. Everything hurt from my head to my toes. I felt like I had run a marathon while carrying a backpack full of bricks. Hell, I felt like I was crushed in a trash compactor. I checked the time stamp on my phone. 

The video showed 32:30. Even in my state of muscle pain and undress, I felt my stomach drop. Embarrassment filled me as I thought of sending the video to my mother, or to the doctor. Even though I knew they wouldn’t look at it with anything but concern, I felt shameful. The act of sending out such a video felt inappropriate no matter the context. 

“Thanks for keeping watch girl,” I said, patting the dog. My throat felt horrible again, like I’d been screaming my lungs out for hours. 

I have to watch the video. The words raced through my head like they had been transplanted from somewhere or someone else. It felt like my thought, but also didn’t. I looked around the room as if I was expecting to find someone sitting there talking to me. The house was empty though, and would be until way later in the day. Sugar was my only companion and she couldn’t talk or use telepathy. At least, not to my knowledge. 

Covering myself back up with the towel, I rolled onto my side. Shoving one of the pillows back under my head, I called for Sugar. She came and laid by my side, curling up next to my stomach. I draped my arm across her soft fur and fidgeted with the phone in my hand. Pressing play on the video, I cuddled the dog and hoped for the best. 

For the first minute nothing happened. I watched my towel covered self lie peacefully on the ground with closed eyes. I was on my side, appearing as if I was taking a nap. Sugar laid beside me, her back pressed against mine. Just as I was starting to feel comfortable, the shuddering began. Mild twitching grew to full on convulsions as my body strained. With a clenched jaw, my head shook violently. Looking like a monster from a scary movie, my hands and fingers stuck out at weird angles as my arms curled in towards my core. 

I wanted to cover my eyes as the foam started dripping from my mouth. Aerated spit that was unable to be swallowed, pushed through my clenched teeth. I couldn’t help but think of an animal with rabies as I looked at myself. Pretty soon after that, the towel fell off. I winced physically at the sight. 

When the video got to the twenty-minute mark, the convulsions slowed. Grateful to see the effects of the seizure wearing off, I felt myself start to relax. That was when I noticed something strange. In the video, Sugar stood up from her spot next to me on the floor. Without hesitation, she took a defensive stance over me and faced the door. The usually calm and silent dog was once again bearing her fangs and growling. 

My ears picked up another sound that was almost drowned out by the rumble in Sugar’s chest. Clicking up the volume button on the side of my phone, I rewound the video just a few seconds. Cree-aak. The hinges to my bedroom door groaned in protest as it moved. With the way the phone was angled my door was just out of view. I felt my body grow cold. I looked up from the phone and saw that the door was in fact ajar. It hadn’t been like that when I laid down before the seizure. 

“Oh god.” I said aloud softly. 

Hitting the pause button, I scrambled to my feet. With legs so shaky my knees knocked together, I stumbled to the door. Filled with an unwarranted sense of bravery, I slammed it shut and turned the lock. Sugar may be acting fine now, but the reaction to whatever caused the door to open left me scared. No, she wasn’t an attack dog. But if there was a stranger in the house I doubted she would be laying there so peacefully. 

My limbs protested angrily as I checked the rest of the room. I made sure to look in all the places that seemed big enough for a person to hide. When I came up empty, I thought maybe I had imagined things. Maybe I really hadn’t closed the bedroom door before the seizure. When I decided to finally continue watching the rest of the video, I realized that I was wrong. 

After the creaking of the door, Sugar growled for quite a long time. She barked loudly, gnashing her teeth as she did. She took a few steps towards the door. Each placement of her paw was a slow and deliberate step. As if she were a jungle cat stalking its prey. Keeping her eyes trained on the door, Sugar moved further out of the camera's range. Then I heard something so soft that even at max volume, I could barely make it out. 

The only way I could describe it to you is like the moaning of wind. Somewhat haunting and melodic, like air passing through a flute made of stone. It almost sounded like a voice saying, “hello?” I felt my body tremble in fear as Sugar completely disappeared from the frame. There was a loud BANG and then a high pitched whine from Sugar. Pretty soon after she backed-up into view again, retreating without stealing her gaze. Her head hung low like she had been scolded for doing something bad. 

“Oh Sugar, my good girl. Are you okay?” I asked while scratching her back. I looked back at the closed door and frowned. “I wish you could tell me what happened.” 

The rest of the video was uneventful. It seemed that my seizure itself still fell within the time limits, but my come-back took way longer than normal. As I’m writing this out I feel like a piece of the puzzle started to connect itself, but it's too early to tell. All I know is that Sugar is alerting to something, I just don’t know what it is. Yet.

Log 2 ended at 1:12pm 

As I stood in front of the dark purple wine bottles I felt a sense of deja vu cross over me. I’ve frequented the grocery store enough times to know the entire layout like the back of my hand. The deja vu stemmed from something other than a fleeting memory of a time passed. That was when I felt the tap on my thigh. I whipped my head around wildly, the suddenness of contact in the empty aisle made me panic. Then I tasted blood in my mouth. Another tap on my thigh. 

“Oh, Sugar. I forgot you were there,” I said softly. My hand scratched behind the ear of the golden lab. She panted softly and booped my leg again. 

The bitterness of the metal on my tongue and the alerts from Sugar confirmed the sense of deja vu. I was getting ready to have a seizure. Sighing in annoyance, I sank to the floor. Being stuck in an aisle full of glass bottles wasn’t my favorite choice, but I’d have to make due. Before fully laying down in the middle of the pathway, I set my phone up and pressed record. 

I never remember what happens during my seizures. At the request of my family and doctors, I kept track of each one. Unless the video was a longer time stamp than normal, I never did anything with them aside from save them to the cloud. If the video went longer than 15-20 minutes (including my arduous wakeup from such an intense event) I’d send them to my mom or doctor for review. 

This time wouldn’t be any different. I had only had Sugar, my medical alert dog, for about a month now. In the time we have spent together, she has always been right and never once left my side. In the aftermath, I would wake up with her laying down beside me protecting my head. If it took me longer to rouse, she would do her best to wake me with big sloppy kisses. 

“I’ll be back soon,” I said to Sugar as I closed my eyes. 

That was where my memory was cut out. I was grateful that I had managed not to pee my pants in the middle of the store. My hands flailed up and down my body as I laid on the ground, checking for injuries. As my hands made their way to my head, I noticed a lack of sensation. Where a big ball of fur should have been, the space was empty. 

“Sugar?” I called out with a sore throat. My voice came out dry and raspy. I waited to hear the sound of metal jingling, but the air around me was silent. Rolling onto my side, I reached a shaky finger out and pressed the red button on my phone. The recording stopped and saved itself. 

“S-sugar?” I had now rolled onto my stomach and was staring at the aisle in front of me. 

That was when I saw her. Sugar stood at attention a few paces down, facing in the same direction I was. Her ears were pulled back and her head was lowered. I watched as her lip quivered, fangs exposed in a silent growl. I stuck the phone in my pocket and crawled to her on my hands and knees. 

“What’s going on girl?” I asked while inching closer. 

Although the dog was taking on an angry and defensive stance, there was no reason for her reaction. The aisle was still completely empty, aside from the two of us. I blinked my eyes and tried to focus my vision, wondering if I had missed the swift exit of a person. Even so, I saw nothing. As I laid my hand on her backside, Sugar’s rigid stance finally softened. 

Turning around swiftly, the golden ball of fur licked wildly at my face. I felt my vigor returning to me. Wine seemed like a bad idea, now that this had happened, even if it wasn’t for me. I no longer trusted myself to carry a plastic bag full of glass bottles on my walk home. Mom would have to return to the store and get them herself. She had been trying to get me to leave the house for the first time in a while… 

I started staying in more as the seizures increased. Afraid of what would happen if I had one out by myself. It seems that life had funny plans, and decided to beat me to the punch. Pride filled me as I picked myself up off the floor and onto my feet. I had managed to survive, thanks to Sugar. She was worth every single cent that my parents had managed to scrape together. Maybe now, I could have a normal life. 

On my walk home, I decided to call my mom and tell her what had happened. As I unlocked the screen, the video I had taken during my seizure came into view. The time stamp was 20:06 and fell within the range of normal. I exited out of the video and dialed mom. She answered in three rings. 

“It happened,” was all I said. 

“Oh goodness, are you alright? Are you safe?” My mother’s voice was filled with restrained panic. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I actually already started walking back. Sorry, but the wine is going to have to wait. I feel too weak to be carrying anything home right now.” I sighed. 

“Thanks for trying kiddo, I guess you just ripped the bandage off.” Mom chuckled. Her light hearted laugh reminded me of a fairy. 

“I’ll see you in a bit.” I hung the phone up and shoved it back in my pocket. The chirping of crickets and the croaking of frogs filled the night air. As I tilted my head back, stars filled my vision. They seemed brighter than usual, no clouds to hide their beauty. Sugar trotted beside me, her soft pants a reassuring sound. 

“Thanks for looking out for me,” I whispered to her softly. She was a damn good girl. 

When I arrived home, I was met with my mothers open arms. Her and dad fawned over me, checking to make sure I hadn’t hurt myself while seizing on the floor. When they found no evidence of injury, I was finally released from their grip. Freedom was not as easy to attain, when you have a disability like mine. 

I don’t know exactly what made me check the recording. Normally it was something that was too harsh for me to witness. Seeing myself in such a vulnerable position made my stomach twist. Curiosity was what really drew me to check the video. Although Sugar was acting perfectly normal, there was a part deep within me that wondered if something had happened when I was lost in oblivion. 

Trying to ignore my convulsing body, I fixed my gaze on the area in the background. At the start of the video, Sugar had been laying beside me. In fact, she was laying with me for practically the entirety of my seizure. It wasn’t until when my body had stilled, that she stood up from her spot. In the few minutes where I was essentially sleeping, Sugar was roused by something I could not see. 

The dog's ears had perked up first, as if hearing a sound at a frequency unable to be picked up on video. The second thing she did was lift her snout into the air and sniff around wildly. That was when her hair stood up on the back of her neck. Lips receding to expose her teeth and gums. Sugar took a controlled step forward, her jaw opening and closing quickly. Biting and snapping at the empty space in front of her. 

For some reason, as I watched the video, a seed of fear planted itself in my core. The low growl of Sugar echoed in my ears. I felt the hairs on my own body stand at attention. I paused the video quickly and looked around my room. The golden dog rested in a croissant shape at the end of the bed, looking completely unbothered. Seeing her sense of calm slowed my heart rate considerably. 

“I guess it was nothing, huh.” I said to no one in particular. 

Clicking the button on the side of my phone, the screen turned dark. I was faced with a distorted reflection of my own face in the tempered glass. My skin looked saggy and my eyes looked sunken into my head. Sickened by the fun-house mirror effect, I tossed the accursed device onto the bed. 

“Wanna go potty, Sugar?” I asked the sleeping dog. 

She lifted her head lazily and sniffed the air. Her sleepy eyes went from droopy to fully open. Sugar looked around the room, uncurling from her position on the bed. I started to feel twitchy, wondering if I was unlucky enough to have two seizures in one night. 

After the dog sniffed the perimeter of the room and came back to stand at the edge of the bed, I finally relaxed. She had neither growled or alerted me with the nose boop on my leg. I was safe. Standing up myself, we made our way out of the room. 

The sliding glass door to the backyard opened easily. The cool night air filled my nostrils, it smelled crisp and clean. I relished in the beauty of the night, wishing I could stay out there until the sun came up. Fatigue was the only thing keeping me from enacting such a plan. 

“All done, girl?” I asked as she trotted back from the edge of the yard. 

A soft *woof* was all the response I needed. 

Sugar’s nails click-clacked on the floor as we made our way back to my room. As we passed by the kitchen, I snuck a treat from the cupboard and gave it to the golden fuzz-ball. She crunched down on it greedily and then looked up at me for more. I shook my head with a playful frown on my face. I didn’t want to spoil her too much. 

Sleep came fast and easy for the both of us. The exhaustion of the day’s events hitting all at once. As I drifted off into the darkness behind my eyelids, I thought of the video once more. 

Now, you are probably wondering why I decided to write all of this down for you to read. At first, I wondered why myself. Was it purely for documentation? Was I doing this to keep track of my symptoms to make the doctors' lives a little easier? No. I wrote this down to try and save what little bits of sanity I have left. A selfish scream into the void, looking to find clarity and answers. 

(From here on out, things only get worse.) edited at 7:08pm

I started having seizures when I was four years old. Age and epilepsy liked to punch holes in my memory, so most of what I’m about to write down is from a secondhand retelling. Both my parents say that it started out…practically unnoticeable. Absent seizures were much harder to catch than grand mal. Instead of my body shaking violently as I struggled to breathe, I would stare off into space completely unmoving. 

“You were a little spooky as a child,” my mother had said one evening after I poked and prodded her for information. “Like a doll, or a zombie. I could talk to you, poke you, snap my fingers in your face and…nothing.” 

“I’m sure we missed some of the signs at first, but as soon as we realized something was wrong your mom and I rushed you to the emergency room. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared. Well, until you started having the more intense seizures later on.” My dad’s voice was full of concern. 

“Kelsey, honey, is it alright if we talk about this more later? Work is calling,” my mom sighed in defeat. 

Around middle school, during the summer between 7th and 8th grade was when I had my first grand mal seizure. I remember playing out in the front yard with a few of the neighborhood kids, and then came-to sometime later laying on the ground. My parents' concerned faces were above me, and my shorts were wet. I remember being confused and humiliated as my foggy brain woke up. Before I knew it, I was being shipped off to the hospital in my piss soaked clothes. 

Having epilepsy was difficult and extremely embarrassing. It felt like a death sentence, or better yet, a life sentence. For the remainder of my life, I would be stuck somewhere between constant check ups and a lack of freedom. 

“Did something cause me to be like this?” I had asked one of the doctors sometime during freshman year. 

“After all of the rigorous testing we’ve done… No, no I don’t believe so. Even though medicine is a science, it doesn’t always have an answer. At least not yet. The human body is still a mystery in many ways. I wish I knew the cause and a way to fix it, but I don’t.” My neurologist Dr. Sharma was a nice lady. 

At the time, it both comforted and unnerved me to hear her answer. I didn’t have any sort of head trauma, or any family members with epilepsy. Genetics and environmental factors didn’t apply to my case. At least my parents had no reason to blame themselves for my state. Deep down though, I was sad. I just wanted concrete facts and answers, but all I had to go on was blind faith. Faith in the way that life is unabashedly cruel and didn’t pick favorites.

Regardless of who you were, you could always write your name on the dance-card of the devil. Fate had chosen to curse me with something I could not win against. Instead, I had to accept that this was the way my life would be, and there was nothing I could do to fix it. 

Now that I have covered my plain and boring backstory, I guess I should introduce myself. Hi, my name is Kelsey Stewart. Currently, as I’m typing this up I am 22 years-old. I want to extend my gratitude, thank you for taking the time to read this silly blog (if anyone reads at all). Although I am using this digital journal to record my strange encounters in life for my own sake, if you end up finding your way here… well, just keep an open mind as you read. 

Log 1 ended at 8:35pm

A few days after my first upload, I had another seizure. Sugar had alerted me with a few minutes to spare. Enough time to make it from the bathroom to my bedroom. Skin still covered in dew drops, a white bath towel wrapped around my chest. I was unlucky enough to be booped as I exited the shower. The narrow shape of the bathroom and the porcelain appliances were not a safe place to be. Especially if I had the time to move elsewhere. The taste of blood hadn’t come yet. 

Just as I stepped into my bedroom, the sense of deja vu hit. I felt as if I was stumbling through a dream. Fighting my way through the mental fog, I threw myself into the middle of the floor. As I set up the phone, the bitterness of metal hit my tongue. It was almost time. The thick carpet and throw pillows were a safe embrace as I drifted further off. And then everything went dark. 

I awoke to Sugar standing over me, licking my face. During the convulsions my towel had fallen undone, it laid in a bunched up mess on the floor. Everything hurt from my head to my toes. I felt like I had run a marathon while carrying a backpack full of bricks. Hell, I felt like I was crushed in a trash compactor. I checked the time stamp on my phone. 

The video showed 32:30. Even in my state of muscle pain and undress, I felt my stomach drop. Embarrassment filled me as I thought of sending the video to my mother, or to the doctor. Even though I knew they wouldn’t look at it with anything but concern, I felt shameful. The act of sending out such a video felt inappropriate no matter the context. 

“Thanks for keeping watch girl,” I said, patting the dog. My throat felt horrible again, like I’d been screaming my lungs out for hours. 

I have to watch the video. The words raced through my head like they had been transplanted from somewhere or someone else. It felt like my thought, but also didn’t. I looked around the room as if I was expecting to find someone sitting there talking to me. The house was empty though, and would be until way later in the day. Sugar was my only companion and she couldn’t talk or use telepathy. At least, not to my knowledge. 

Covering myself back up with the towel, I rolled onto my side. Shoving one of the pillows back under my head, I called for Sugar. She came and laid by my side, curling up next to my stomach. I draped my arm across her soft fur and fidgeted with the phone in my hand. Pressing play on the video, I cuddled the dog and hoped for the best. 

For the first minute nothing happened. I watched my towel covered self lie peacefully on the ground with closed eyes. I was on my side, appearing as if I was taking a nap. Sugar laid beside me, her back pressed against mine. Just as I was starting to feel comfortable, the shuddering began. Mild twitching grew to full on convulsions as my body strained. With a clenched jaw, my head shook violently. Looking like a monster from a scary movie, my hands and fingers stuck out at weird angles as my arms curled in towards my core. 

I wanted to cover my eyes as the foam started dripping from my mouth. Aerated spit that was unable to be swallowed, pushed through my clenched teeth. I couldn’t help but think of an animal with rabies as I looked at myself. Pretty soon after that, the towel fell off. I winced physically at the sight. 

When the video got to the twenty-minute mark, the convulsions slowed. Grateful to see the effects of the seizure wearing off, I felt myself start to relax. That was when I noticed something strange. In the video, Sugar stood up from her spot next to me on the floor. Without hesitation, she took a defensive stance over me and faced the door. The usually calm and silent dog was once again bearing her fangs and growling. 

My ears picked up another sound that was almost drowned out by the rumble in Sugar’s chest. Clicking up the volume button on the side of my phone, I rewound the video just a few seconds. Cree-aak. The hinges to my bedroom door groaned in protest as it moved. With the way the phone was angled my door was just out of view. I felt my body grow cold. I looked up from the phone and saw that the door was in fact ajar. It hadn’t been like that when I laid down before the seizure. 

“Oh god.” I said aloud softly. 

Hitting the pause button, I scrambled to my feet. With legs so shaky my knees knocked together, I stumbled to the door. Filled with an unwarranted sense of bravery, I slammed it shut and turned the lock. Sugar may be acting fine now, but the reaction to whatever caused the door to open left me scared. No, she wasn’t an attack dog. But if there was a stranger in the house I doubted she would be laying there so peacefully. 

My limbs protested angrily as I checked the rest of the room. I made sure to look in all the places that seemed big enough for a person to hide. When I came up empty, I thought maybe I had imagined things. Maybe I really hadn’t closed the bedroom door before the seizure. When I decided to finally continue watching the rest of the video, I realized that I was wrong. 

After the creaking of the door, Sugar growled for quite a long time. She barked loudly, gnashing her teeth as she did. She took a few steps towards the door. Each placement of her paw was a slow and deliberate step. As if she were a jungle cat stalking its prey. Keeping her eyes trained on the door, Sugar moved further out of the camera's range. Then I heard something so soft that even at max volume, I could barely make it out. 

The only way I could describe it to you is like the moaning of wind. Somewhat haunting and melodic, like air passing through a flute made of stone. It almost sounded like a voice saying, “hello?” I felt my body tremble in fear as Sugar completely disappeared from the frame. There was a loud BANG and then a high pitched whine from Sugar. Pretty soon after she backed-up into view again, retreating without stealing her gaze. Her head hung low like she had been scolded for doing something bad. 

“Oh Sugar, my good girl. Are you okay?” I asked while scratching her back. I looked back at the closed door and frowned. “I wish you could tell me what happened.” 

The rest of the video was uneventful. It seemed that my seizure itself still fell within the time limits, but my come-back took way longer than normal. As I’m writing this out I feel like a piece of the puzzle started to connect itself, but it's too early to tell. All I know is that Sugar is alerting to something, I just don’t know what it is. Yet.

Log 2 ended at 1:12pm 

Part 2

As I stood in front of the dark purple wine bottles I felt a sense of deja vu cross over me. I’ve frequented the grocery store enough times to know the entire layout like the back of my hand. The deja vu stemmed from something other than a fleeting memory of a time passed. That was when I felt the tap on my thigh. I whipped my head around wildly, the suddenness of contact in the empty aisle made me panic. Then I tasted blood in my mouth. Another tap on my thigh. 

“Oh, Sugar. I forgot you were there,” I said softly. My hand scratched behind the ear of the golden lab. She panted softly and booped my leg again. 

The bitterness of the metal on my tongue and the alerts from Sugar confirmed the sense of deja vu. I was getting ready to have a seizure. Sighing in annoyance, I sank to the floor. Being stuck in an aisle full of glass bottles wasn’t my favorite choice, but I’d have to make due. Before fully laying down in the middle of the pathway, I set my phone up and pressed record. 

I never remember what happens during my seizures. At the request of my family and doctors, I kept track of each one. Unless the video was a longer time stamp than normal, I never did anything with them aside from save them to the cloud. If the video went longer than 15-20 minutes (including my arduous wakeup from such an intense event) I’d send them to my mom or doctor for review. 

This time wouldn’t be any different. I had only had Sugar, my medical alert dog, for about a month now. In the time we have spent together, she has always been right and never once left my side. In the aftermath, I would wake up with her laying down beside me protecting my head. If it took me longer to rouse, she would do her best to wake me with big sloppy kisses. 

“I’ll be back soon,” I said to Sugar as I closed my eyes. 

That was where my memory was cut out. I was grateful that I had managed not to pee my pants in the middle of the store. My hands flailed up and down my body as I laid on the ground, checking for injuries. As my hands made their way to my head, I noticed a lack of sensation. Where a big ball of fur should have been, the space was empty. 

“Sugar?” I called out with a sore throat. My voice came out dry and raspy. I waited to hear the sound of metal jingling, but the air around me was silent. Rolling onto my side, I reached a shaky finger out and pressed the red button on my phone. The recording stopped and saved itself. 

“S-sugar?” I had now rolled onto my stomach and was staring at the aisle in front of me. 

That was when I saw her. Sugar stood at attention a few paces down, facing in the same direction I was. Her ears were pulled back and her head was lowered. I watched as her lip quivered, fangs exposed in a silent growl. I stuck the phone in my pocket and crawled to her on my hands and knees. 

“What’s going on girl?” I asked while inching closer. 

Although the dog was taking on an angry and defensive stance, there was no reason for her reaction. The aisle was still completely empty, aside from the two of us. I blinked my eyes and tried to focus my vision, wondering if I had missed the swift exit of a person. Even so, I saw nothing. As I laid my hand on her backside, Sugar’s rigid stance finally softened. 

Turning around swiftly, the golden ball of fur licked wildly at my face. I felt my vigor returning to me. Wine seemed like a bad idea, now that this had happened, even if it wasn’t for me. I no longer trusted myself to carry a plastic bag full of glass bottles on my walk home. Mom would have to return to the store and get them herself. She had been trying to get me to leave the house for the first time in a while… 

I started staying in more as the seizures increased. Afraid of what would happen if I had one out by myself. It seems that life had funny plans, and decided to beat me to the punch. Pride filled me as I picked myself up off the floor and onto my feet. I had managed to survive, thanks to Sugar. She was worth every single cent that my parents had managed to scrape together. Maybe now, I could have a normal life. 

On my walk home, I decided to call my mom and tell her what had happened. As I unlocked the screen, the video I had taken during my seizure came into view. The time stamp was 20:06 and fell within the range of normal. I exited out of the video and dialed mom. She answered in three rings. 

“It happened,” was all I said. 

“Oh goodness, are you alright? Are you safe?” My mother’s voice was filled with restrained panic. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I actually already started walking back. Sorry, but the wine is going to have to wait. I feel too weak to be carrying anything home right now.” I sighed. 

“Thanks for trying kiddo, I guess you just ripped the bandage off.” Mom chuckled. Her light hearted laugh reminded me of a fairy. 

“I’ll see you in a bit.” I hung the phone up and shoved it back in my pocket. The chirping of crickets and the croaking of frogs filled the night air. As I tilted my head back, stars filled my vision. They seemed brighter than usual, no clouds to hide their beauty. Sugar trotted beside me, her soft pants a reassuring sound. 

“Thanks for looking out for me,” I whispered to her softly. She was a damn good girl. 

When I arrived home, I was met with my mothers open arms. Her and dad fawned over me, checking to make sure I hadn’t hurt myself while seizing on the floor. When they found no evidence of injury, I was finally released from their grip. Freedom was not as easy to attain, when you have a disability like mine. 

I don’t know exactly what made me check the recording. Normally it was something that was too harsh for me to witness. Seeing myself in such a vulnerable position made my stomach twist. Curiosity was what really drew me to check the video. Although Sugar was acting perfectly normal, there was a part deep within me that wondered if something had happened when I was lost in oblivion. 

Trying to ignore my convulsing body, I fixed my gaze on the area in the background. At the start of the video, Sugar had been laying beside me. In fact, she was laying with me for practically the entirety of my seizure. It wasn’t until when my body had stilled, that she stood up from her spot. In the few minutes where I was essentially sleeping, Sugar was roused by something I could not see. 

The dog's ears had perked up first, as if hearing a sound at a frequency unable to be picked up on video. The second thing she did was lift her snout into the air and sniff around wildly. That was when her hair stood up on the back of her neck. Lips receding to expose her teeth and gums. Sugar took a controlled step forward, her jaw opening and closing quickly. Biting and snapping at the empty space in front of her. 

For some reason, as I watched the video, a seed of fear planted itself in my core. The low growl of Sugar echoed in my ears. I felt the hairs on my own body stand at attention. I paused the video quickly and looked around my room. The golden dog rested in a croissant shape at the end of the bed, looking completely unbothered. Seeing her sense of calm slowed my heart rate considerably. 

“I guess it was nothing, huh.” I said to no one in particular. 

Clicking the button on the side of my phone, the screen turned dark. I was faced with a distorted reflection of my own face in the tempered glass. My skin looked saggy and my eyes looked sunken into my head. Sickened by the fun-house mirror effect, I tossed the accursed device onto the bed. 

“Wanna go potty, Sugar?” I asked the sleeping dog. 

She lifted her head lazily and sniffed the air. Her sleepy eyes went from droopy to fully open. Sugar looked around the room, uncurling from her position on the bed. I started to feel twitchy, wondering if I was unlucky enough to have two seizures in one night. 

After the dog sniffed the perimeter of the room and came back to stand at the edge of the bed, I finally relaxed. She had neither growled or alerted me with the nose boop on my leg. I was safe. Standing up myself, we made our way out of the room. 

The sliding glass door to the backyard opened easily. The cool night air filled my nostrils, it smelled crisp and clean. I relished in the beauty of the night, wishing I could stay out there until the sun came up. Fatigue was the only thing keeping me from enacting such a plan. 

“All done, girl?” I asked as she trotted back from the edge of the yard. 

A soft *woof* was all the response I needed. 

Sugar’s nails click-clacked on the floor as we made our way back to my room. As we passed by the kitchen, I snuck a treat from the cupboard and gave it to the golden fuzz-ball. She crunched down on it greedily and then looked up at me for more. I shook my head with a playful frown on my face. I didn’t want to spoil her too much. 

Sleep came fast and easy for the both of us. The exhaustion of the day’s events hitting all at once. As I drifted off into the darkness behind my eyelids, I thought of the video once more. 

Now, you are probably wondering why I decided to write all of this down for you to read. At first, I wondered why myself. Was it purely for documentation? Was I doing this to keep track of my symptoms to make the doctors' lives a little easier? No. I wrote this down to try and save what little bits of sanity I have left. A selfish scream into the void, looking to find clarity and answers. 

(From here on out, things only get worse.) edited at 7:08pm

I started having seizures when I was four years old. Age and epilepsy liked to punch holes in my memory, so most of what I’m about to write down is from a secondhand retelling. Both my parents say that it started out…practically unnoticeable. Absent seizures were much harder to catch than grand mal. Instead of my body shaking violently as I struggled to breathe, I would stare off into space completely unmoving. 

“You were a little spooky as a child,” my mother had said one evening after I poked and prodded her for information. “Like a doll, or a zombie. I could talk to you, poke you, snap my fingers in your face and…nothing.” 

“I’m sure we missed some of the signs at first, but as soon as we realized something was wrong your mom and I rushed you to the emergency room. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared. Well, until you started having the more intense seizures later on.” My dad’s voice was full of concern. 

“Kelsey, honey, is it alright if we talk about this more later? Work is calling,” my mom sighed in defeat. 

Around middle school, during the summer between 7th and 8th grade was when I had my first grand mal seizure. I remember playing out in the front yard with a few of the neighborhood kids, and then came-to sometime later laying on the ground. My parents' concerned faces were above me, and my shorts were wet. I remember being confused and humiliated as my foggy brain woke up. Before I knew it, I was being shipped off to the hospital in my piss soaked clothes. 

Having epilepsy was difficult and extremely embarrassing. It felt like a death sentence, or better yet, a life sentence. For the remainder of my life, I would be stuck somewhere between constant check ups and a lack of freedom. 

“Did something cause me to be like this?” I had asked one of the doctors sometime during freshman year. 

“After all of the rigorous testing we’ve done… No, no I don’t believe so. Even though medicine is a science, it doesn’t always have an answer. At least not yet. The human body is still a mystery in many ways. I wish I knew the cause and a way to fix it, but I don’t.” My neurologist Dr. Sharma was a nice lady. 

At the time, it both comforted and unnerved me to hear her answer. I didn’t have any sort of head trauma, or any family members with epilepsy. Genetics and environmental factors didn’t apply to my case. At least my parents had no reason to blame themselves for my state. Deep down though, I was sad. I just wanted concrete facts and answers, but all I had to go on was blind faith. Faith in the way that life is unabashedly cruel and didn’t pick favorites.

Regardless of who you were, you could always write your name on the dance-card of the devil. Fate had chosen to curse me with something I could not win against. Instead, I had to accept that this was the way my life would be, and there was nothing I could do to fix it. 

Now that I have covered my plain and boring backstory, I guess I should introduce myself. Hi, my name is Kelsey Stewart. Currently, as I’m typing this up I am 22 years-old. I want to extend my gratitude, thank you for taking the time to read this silly blog (if anyone reads at all). Although I am using this digital journal to record my strange encounters in life for my own sake, if you end up finding your way here… well, just keep an open mind as you read. 

Log 1 ended at 8:35pm

A few days after my first upload, I had another seizure. Sugar had alerted me with a few minutes to spare. Enough time to make it from the bathroom to my bedroom. Skin still covered in dew drops, a white bath towel wrapped around my chest. I was unlucky enough to be booped as I exited the shower. The narrow shape of the bathroom and the porcelain appliances were not a safe place to be. Especially if I had the time to move elsewhere. The taste of blood hadn’t come yet. 

Just as I stepped into my bedroom, the sense of deja vu hit. I felt as if I was stumbling through a dream. Fighting my way through the mental fog, I threw myself into the middle of the floor. As I set up the phone, the bitterness of metal hit my tongue. It was almost time. The thick carpet and throw pillows were a safe embrace as I drifted further off. And then everything went dark. 

I awoke to Sugar standing over me, licking my face. During the convulsions my towel had fallen undone, it laid in a bunched up mess on the floor. Everything hurt from my head to my toes. I felt like I had run a marathon while carrying a backpack full of bricks. Hell, I felt like I was crushed in a trash compactor. I checked the time stamp on my phone. 

The video showed 32:30. Even in my state of muscle pain and undress, I felt my stomach drop. Embarrassment filled me as I thought of sending the video to my mother, or to the doctor. Even though I knew they wouldn’t look at it with anything but concern, I felt shameful. The act of sending out such a video felt inappropriate no matter the context. 

“Thanks for keeping watch girl,” I said, patting the dog. My throat felt horrible again, like I’d been screaming my lungs out for hours. 

I have to watch the video. The words raced through my head like they had been transplanted from somewhere or someone else. It felt like my thought, but also didn’t. I looked around the room as if I was expecting to find someone sitting there talking to me. The house was empty though, and would be until way later in the day. Sugar was my only companion and she couldn’t talk or use telepathy. At least, not to my knowledge. 

Covering myself back up with the towel, I rolled onto my side. Shoving one of the pillows back under my head, I called for Sugar. She came and laid by my side, curling up next to my stomach. I draped my arm across her soft fur and fidgeted with the phone in my hand. Pressing play on the video, I cuddled the dog and hoped for the best. 

For the first minute nothing happened. I watched my towel covered self lie peacefully on the ground with closed eyes. I was on my side, appearing as if I was taking a nap. Sugar laid beside me, her back pressed against mine. Just as I was starting to feel comfortable, the shuddering began. Mild twitching grew to full on convulsions as my body strained. With a clenched jaw, my head shook violently. Looking like a monster from a scary movie, my hands and fingers stuck out at weird angles as my arms curled in towards my core. 

I wanted to cover my eyes as the foam started dripping from my mouth. Aerated spit that was unable to be swallowed, pushed through my clenched teeth. I couldn’t help but think of an animal with rabies as I looked at myself. Pretty soon after that, the towel fell off. I winced physically at the sight. 

When the video got to the twenty-minute mark, the convulsions slowed. Grateful to see the effects of the seizure wearing off, I felt myself start to relax. That was when I noticed something strange. In the video, Sugar stood up from her spot next to me on the floor. Without hesitation, she took a defensive stance over me and faced the door. The usually calm and silent dog was once again bearing her fangs and growling. 

My ears picked up another sound that was almost drowned out by the rumble in Sugar’s chest. Clicking up the volume button on the side of my phone, I rewound the video just a few seconds. Cree-aak. The hinges to my bedroom door groaned in protest as it moved. With the way the phone was angled my door was just out of view. I felt my body grow cold. I looked up from the phone and saw that the door was in fact ajar. It hadn’t been like that when I laid down before the seizure. 

“Oh god.” I said aloud softly. 

Hitting the pause button, I scrambled to my feet. With legs so shaky my knees knocked together, I stumbled to the door. Filled with an unwarranted sense of bravery, I slammed it shut and turned the lock. Sugar may be acting fine now, but the reaction to whatever caused the door to open left me scared. No, she wasn’t an attack dog. But if there was a stranger in the house I doubted she would be laying there so peacefully. 

My limbs protested angrily as I checked the rest of the room. I made sure to look in all the places that seemed big enough for a person to hide. When I came up empty, I thought maybe I had imagined things. Maybe I really hadn’t closed the bedroom door before the seizure. When I decided to finally continue watching the rest of the video, I realized that I was wrong. 

After the creaking of the door, Sugar growled for quite a long time. She barked loudly, gnashing her teeth as she did. She took a few steps towards the door. Each placement of her paw was a slow and deliberate step. As if she were a jungle cat stalking its prey. Keeping her eyes trained on the door, Sugar moved further out of the camera's range. Then I heard something so soft that even at max volume, I could barely make it out. 

The only way I could describe it to you is like the moaning of wind. Somewhat haunting and melodic, like air passing through a flute made of stone. It almost sounded like a voice saying, “hello?” I felt my body tremble in fear as Sugar completely disappeared from the frame. There was a loud BANG and then a high pitched whine from Sugar. Pretty soon after she backed-up into view again, retreating without stealing her gaze. Her head hung low like she had been scolded for doing something bad. 

“Oh Sugar, my good girl. Are you okay?” I asked while scratching her back. I looked back at the closed door and frowned. “I wish you could tell me what happened.” 

The rest of the video was uneventful. It seemed that my seizure itself still fell within the time limits, but my come-back took way longer than normal. As I’m writing this out I feel like a piece of the puzzle started to connect itself, but it's too early to tell. All I know is that Sugar is alerting to something, I just don’t know what it is. Yet.

Log 2 ended at 1:12pm 

Have you ever tasted the bitterness of despair? Have you ever hit the bottom of the barrel so hard that it shattered everything within? Have you ever groveled on your knees and pleaded with such tenacity that you lost your voice? I have. 

It’s funny, looking back on the way I lived my life. I was always going to end up here, writing this to you. I was always going to end up this way, no matter how hard I struggled against it. Sure, life dealt me a bad hand. But what I chose to do with it was almost laughable.  

You tried your best, and so did my parents. God, if they could see me now they’d be rolling over in their graves. I know I would be. Oh, the shame they must feel…calling me their son. My kids must feel the same way. Having a man like me for their dad. 

I won’t even bother asking for your forgiveness, I know I don’t deserve it. I hate myself more than you, or anyone else could ever hate me. All I can do is promise to apologize with every breath I take, for the rest of my life. 

I thought of taking the cowards way out. I contemplated it long and hard atop the chair. Watching the rope sway back and forth. It would have been so easy to slip it around my neck and step off. Death was not knocking on my door that day, it didn’t want me. Suffering held its grip on me so tightly, it kept me pinned to the earth. 

“I didn’t mean to… If I could just go back, I wouldn’t have gotten in the car.” 

I heard the lie in my own voice. Even if I could go back, I don’t think anything would have changed. Because the me from the past wouldn't have the hindsight that I do now. Past me, I wouldn't have been aware that my actions would result in someone's death. I wouldn’t have realized that such a simple act would turn me into a murderer. 

“Have you been sleeping?” My wife had asked me at the start of the week. 

“No, not really. Work has been stressful and the nightmares have been getting worse.” I replied nonchalantly. 

The bills were tight, trying to raise three kids and manage a home. Rebecca, my wife, had taken a leave from work after the birth of our last child. Her body was mangled and swollen from the impromptu c-section. Baby Daisy was breech, and had the cord wrapped around her neck. I can still see the blood in the depths of my memory. Oh god, there was so much blood. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved, finding out that they had both survived in the end. I was so grateful for my wife, not knowing if I could do parent-life without her. Selfish, I know, but our kids deserved better than having a depressed, dead beat dad.

“How much do you think a life is worth?” 

I can still hear those words ringing in my ears. The tone and pitch changed wildly in my mind. Sometimes asked with childlike curiosity, sometimes asked in a voice so thick with hatred and anger it causes me to flinch. My brain was a prison that I would never escape from, and it was better this way. 

“Glen, where are the files for this project? Why the hell is it taking so long for you to get this shit done? What are you, a dumb ass?” Jerry, my boss, had pointed his thick meaty finger in my face. Spittle flying from his deflated lips as he screamed in front of the whole office. I felt humiliated and underappreciated. 

“I’ll get them to you by the end of the week. I’m sorry.” I hung my head in shame, waiting for the older man to leave. 

“Sorry doesn’t fix shit. GET. IT. DONE.” 

I’m only telling you all this so maybe, just maybe, you can understand why things happened this way. I’m not trying to make excuses, I know it is too late for those. 

I had started having hallucinations. I had expected them based on recent events. No, I’m not schizophrenic. Rigorous testing and tons of therapy appointments have enlightened me to the fact that hallucinations can be triggered by other means. Stress and depression were the two that I had been gifted with… although, maybe the better word is cursed. 

I must say, I truly am sorry. 

My hallucinations tend to look the same each time. They roll through a lineup of monster-like beings, or bugs on my skin. Ever so rarely though, they come in the shape of a person. The one that scares me the most… I have given him a name. It may not be a good name, but to me, it fits him perfectly. 

I call him the Dead Man Who Walks. 

He comes to me in the late hours of the day, always on my drive home from working over-time. Sometimes he saunters through the grass. Sometimes he teeters the solid yellow line on the edge of the pavement. Sometimes he crosses the road. Each time I see him, I am scared. Eyes widened to their largest point while I white-knuckle-grip the steering wheel. My heart and lungs seem to lodge themselves in my throat as I shake. 

I just want him gone. 

So that night, when your son was crossing the road, I thought he was the Dead Man Who Walks. As he crossed the road, I thought my car would just pass right through him. A trick of the mind, made up like a ghost. When the thud sounded, and the crunch and splatter followed… I did my best to keep him awake as we waited for the ambulance to arrive. 

All I can say is I’m sorry, and I won’t take the coward's way out. I know there is no refund on life.  

Have you ever tasted the bitterness of despair? Have you ever hit the bottom of the barrel so hard that it shattered everything within? Have you ever groveled on your knees and pleaded with such tenacity that you lost your voice? I have. 

It’s funny, looking back on the way I lived my life. I was always going to end up here, writing this to you. I was always going to end up this way, no matter how hard I struggled against it. Sure, life dealt me a bad hand. But what I chose to do with it was almost laughable.  

You tried your best, and so did my parents. God, if they could see me now they’d be rolling over in their graves. I know I would be. Oh, the shame they must feel…calling me their son. My kids must feel the same way. Having a man like me for their dad. 

I won’t even bother asking for your forgiveness, I know I don’t deserve it. I hate myself more than you, or anyone else could ever hate me. All I can do is promise to apologize with every breath I take, for the rest of my life. 

I thought of taking the cowards way out. I contemplated it long and hard atop the chair. Watching the rope sway back and forth. It would have been so easy to slip it around my neck and step off. Death was not knocking on my door that day, it didn’t want me. Suffering held its grip on me so tightly, it kept me pinned to the earth. 

“I didn’t mean to… If I could just go back, I wouldn’t have gotten in the car.” 

I heard the lie in my own voice. Even if I could go back, I don’t think anything would have changed. Because the me from the past wouldn't have the hindsight that I do now. Past me, I wouldn't have been aware that my actions would result in someone's death. I wouldn’t have realized that such a simple act would turn me into a murderer. 

“Have you been sleeping?” My wife had asked me at the start of the week. 

“No, not really. Work has been stressful and the nightmares have been getting worse.” I replied nonchalantly. 

The bills were tight, trying to raise three kids and manage a home. Rebecca, my wife, had taken a leave from work after the birth of our last child. Her body was mangled and swollen from the impromptu c-section. Baby Daisy was breech, and had the cord wrapped around her neck. I can still see the blood in the depths of my memory. Oh god, there was so much blood. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved, finding out that they had both survived in the end. I was so grateful for my wife, not knowing if I could do parent-life without her. Selfish, I know, but our kids deserved better than having a depressed, dead beat dad.

“How much do you think a life is worth?” 

I can still hear those words ringing in my ears. The tone and pitch changed wildly in my mind. Sometimes asked with childlike curiosity, sometimes asked in a voice so thick with hatred and anger it causes me to flinch. My brain was a prison that I would never escape from, and it was better this way. 

“Glen, where are the files for this project? Why the hell is it taking so long for you to get this shit done? What are you, a dumb ass?” Jerry, my boss, had pointed his thick meaty finger in my face. Spittle flying from his deflated lips as he screamed in front of the whole office. I felt humiliated and underappreciated. 

“I’ll get them to you by the end of the week. I’m sorry.” I hung my head in shame, waiting for the older man to leave. 

“Sorry doesn’t fix shit. GET. IT. DONE.” 

I’m only telling you all this so maybe, just maybe, you can understand why things happened this way. I’m not trying to make excuses, I know it is too late for those. 

I had started having hallucinations. I had expected them based on recent events. No, I’m not schizophrenic. Rigorous testing and tons of therapy appointments have enlightened me to the fact that hallucinations can be triggered by other means. Stress and depression were the two that I had been gifted with… although, maybe the better word is cursed. 

I must say, I truly am sorry. 

My hallucinations tend to look the same each time. They roll through a lineup of monster-like beings, or bugs on my skin. Ever so rarely though, they come in the shape of a person. The one that scares me the most… I have given him a name. It may not be a good name, but to me, it fits him perfectly. 

I call him the Dead Man Who Walks. 

He comes to me in the late hours of the day, always on my drive home from working over-time. Sometimes he saunters through the grass. Sometimes he teeters the solid yellow line on the edge of the pavement. Sometimes he crosses the road. Each time I see him, I am scared. Eyes widened to their largest point while I white-knuckle-grip the steering wheel. My heart and lungs seem to lodge themselves in my throat as I shake. 

I just want him gone. 

So that night, when your son was crossing the road, I thought he was the Dead Man Who Walks. As he crossed the road, I thought my car would just pass right through him. A trick of the mind, made up like a ghost. When the thud sounded, and the crunch and splatter followed… I did my best to keep him awake as we waited for the ambulance to arrive. 

All I can say is I’m sorry, and I won’t take the coward's way out. I know there is no refund on life.