Seven-X (7 page)

The door just slammed open. I hear people rushing in. They grabbed Eddie. He’s furious, yelling, “Let go. I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you!

The door slammed shut. They dragged him out  kicking and screaming. The priest is praying or something. I can’t hear the others anymore. Maybe they took them too. Another door just opened. I hear footsteps. They shut the recorder off. That’s it.  

That was insane. I can’t shut this computer off still. I just heard that voice again. That Greek voice. I hear it talking to me. I hear it like it’s inside me. Invading my mind. The file ended, but I still hear it. That voice is in here with me. I know it. “Stop  Please.”  “STOP!”

It’s saying the same thing over and over. The same words. Over and over. The same words. Over and over. I hear it. It’s driving me crazy.  It’s tormenting me. I have to write this down. I have to write it down. I have to. To make this stop. I have to write this down!

“Egó eímai o Theós tou myaloú sas tha Eímai pánta mazí
sas”

I don’t even know what I just wrote. What is that? I don’t now how I typed that. My fingers felt glued to the keyboard. I don’t even know if my eyes were open. I was so scared. I couldn’t breathe. I just wanted that voice gone. I needed it gone, so I put my hands on the computer and typed. I felt like I couldn’t control my fingers, but they echoed the sound in my head. So I wrote this. And as soon as I finished, that evil voice was gone.

Jesus, Eddie! Why you get me involved in your crazy shit. I don’t want to do this anymore!

JOURNAL ENTRY:                                

THURSDAY DECEMBER 9, 2010 - 4:33PM

I finally got my computer back. Guess where I am? Sitting in stink ass seclusion waiting for someone to let me out. It’s disgusting here. The kind of place where you really can go crazy, so I’m gonna write and keep my mind off everything. 

Haworth told me if I touch anyone again, I could become a patient here against my will. The sad part is, I think I might be at their mercy. I signed away consent and liability. I screwed myself. I should have thought about my escape route better.

I’m in a self-contained town with no police, no contact with the outside world, and a thirty-minute drive for help. By foot in this cold, it’s probably a day’s walk. And at night the temperature drops below freezing. 

When the dust settles, if I get out of here, I’m taking off to Dell City to check in with Melody. I need to send her my tapes and email these notes since there’s no post office here. 

Then I’m going to El Paso to get my camera fixed. I don’t trust making phone calls from Dell City. 

I know they listen to everything. They have complete control out here. And they’re playing with me. The demonic circus act was freaky. It scared the shit out me. They all looked possessed, like in Carrie or The Omen. They rehearsed this. A well-played one act by the Haworth Theater Company. 

The last hour I’ve been replaying that whole scene in my head and these guys did their homework. They probably found my divorce records filed online, got credit card statements and followed up on Jamie’s new last name from her marriage license. Almost anything can be public record on the Internet if you pay enough money. If anyone knows that, it’s me.  And yet, I still fell for it. 

The only thing that still really bothers me is how Tyler said exactly what Jamie told me in the hotel room five years ago. That’s what put me over the edge. It was the way he said it. 

He said it just like her, with the same inflection and the same disdain she vomited to me with those exact words, “We don’t want you in our life.”

 I felt that moment of complete emptiness again. Like someone was pulling my heart out of my chest and holding it mockingly in front of my face.

How Jamie got complete custody and used my DUI to seal it shut was heartless. The woman that I loved for so long, suddenly had this disdain for me and took away the only person who gave me unconditional love.

 I know that dickhead Scott was in on it. He was so jealous of me. He was never going to be daddy with me in the picture. She probably doesn’t even know that I’m aware she had another kid with him last year. 

Now they’re the perfect little family and it pisses me off! I can’t stop thinking about them. A couple of breaks, better timing and that’s us. That’s my family!

It was like all of it hit me in that instant again and I just snapped. I got Tyler to the ground and I was about to punch him in the head when his eyes went black and rolled back in his head. He went limp and I could feel this energy around him. Like something was pulling me off him. I felt someone grab my ear and pull me up hard. I thought it was Billings and I swung around to stop him. But it was that old lady and she had that same sick look in her eye that Tyler had before. As I broke free she grabbed me by the throat and practically lifted me off the ground.  Maybe Billings helped her. I felt a force take my feet out from under me. She snarled like a rabid animal. 

Everything happened fast. The next thing I knew two guards tackled me and put me in restraints. They had me shackled up like a rodeo bull and it was pretty much over. I couldn’t fight it. They rushed me out fast while Billings was praying.  

Then the crazy old bitch scratched me across my arm with her nails. She got me real good and took my skin with her. I still feel my arm burning. 

I think they might have shot me up with something because one minute I was bound and being carried down the hall and the next thing I remember, I’m here. I woke up to the sound of dripping water just outside this confinement room. There’s one tiny window, but it’s sealed from the other side. 

They left me with a ham sandwich, some potato chips, water and my thoughts. No silverware. I can’t even eat this crap because the smell in here is so nauseating. 

It’s been a little while since I woke and the battery is going to die soon on this computer. Obviously there’s no outlet here either. 

It’s dirty walls and a fluorescent light outside that flickers like a silent movie reminding me how far back in time I’m trapped. Who knows how long they’ll hold me here. 

I know they’re watching to see what I do, so I have to stay calm and not let my thoughts rule me. I’m trying to think of something happy, but I can’t. Is that weird? 

Every thought I have is so pathetically sad. Maybe it is Achlys, misery, haunting me. “You here bitch.” I’m going to sing happy songs. Happy songs will keep you away.

“Flintstone’s meet the Flintstone’s.                   

They’re your modern Stone Age family,               

From the town of bedrock,                                        

It’s a place right out of history… 

Ba pa.. Da da da da. Da da da.

When you’re with the Flintstones                           

Have a yabba dabba doo time.                                   

A Dabba doo time.                                                  

We’ll have a gay old time.”

Why’d I think of that? Why the Flintstones? Think hard. Think. Why? Why did I think of the Flintstones?

Because it was my favorite cartoon as a kid. Then I got Kennedy hooked. We used to watch the Flintstones together all the time. She loved it. I even bought her this Pebbles outfit for Halloween one year and took her trick or treating. I went as Kazoo. She’d say ‘Bam Bam’ every time she got candy. That was my favorite Halloween ever.

 Why am I thinking about that now?  

I close my eyes and can picture Kennedy like she’s here with me. Dressed in that cave girl suit with her little pigtails and me in my green football helmet with the mask taken off wearing those crazy green tights. Jamie was laughing so hard she peed herself.

 My little girl was so precious. She’s almost ten and I don’t even know what she looks like. She’s growing up without me. Thinking of that makes me feel worthless. And it makes me want to cry or slit my throat or kick someone’s ass. 

And that water:

drip, drip, drip,                                                           

drip, drip, drip,                                                           

drip, drip, drip,                                                           

drip, drip, drip.

It’s maddening.

drip, drip, drip.                                                           

drip, drip, drip.                                                            

drip, drip, drip.                                                           

drip, drip, drip.

drip, drip, drip.                                                             

drip, drip, drip.                                                            

drip, drip, drip.                                                            

drip, drip, drip.

Make it stop!

drip! drip ….

“Sunny Day. Sweeping’ the clouds away.                     

On my way to where the air is sweet.                         

Can you tell me how to get,                                      

How to get to Sesame Street?                                     

How to get to Sesame Street? 

I forget the rest of that song.  I’m blank.  I’m empty. Alone in here. And in this brief moment, there is…. silence.

Then the thoughts come darting through me like a razor cutting into my skin. 

“It’s all my fault…” 

“I’m evil…” 

“I’m cursed!”

“Nothing good will ever happen to me.”

“I’ll never see my daughter again.”

“I should give up and die.”

“Die right now.” 

“Find a way to end this misery.”

It is you bitch, crawling into my head! Go away!

“Why are there so many songs about rainbows?        

And what’s on the other side?                             

Rainbows are visions. 

They’re only illusions.           

And rainbows have nothing to hide.

So we’ve been told and some chose to believe it,         

But I know they’re wrong wait and see        

Someday we’ll find it

The Rainbow Connection

The lovers, the dreamers and me” 

Dear God, I took refuge in Kermit the Frog. I remembered that song. The whole verse. I haven’t heard it in years. Why?  Why’d I do that? Why’d I think of that? What is it trying to tell me? Find the source of that thought. Go back in time. Think!… 

I remember.  I had a Kermit stuffed animal when I was a kid. It was like a hand puppet. You’d stick your hand inside to make his mouth move. We talked a lot. Just Kermit and me.  It’s hard to remember what we said. Most of my childhood is a blank.  Most of my life is a blank. I’m always trying to forget my life.  I need to concentrate. This time I want to remember?  Think hard—Kermit the Frog.

Okay. I can hear Kermit now speaking to me. I see this memory, it’s like a cartoon projected on the padded walls in front of me. 

A child alone in his closet. 

The smashing of liquor bottles against the wall. 

A mother sobbing as a ranting madman justifies his actions and a frog’s lips whispering softly into a child’s ear,  “You’re just like daddy.” 

“No. I’m not. I’ll never hurt mommy. But I did.  I did! I did hurt mommy! “

Shut up!  Shut up! 

That voice needs to shut the fuck up!

LEAVE ME ALONE!!!

The farmer in the dell. The farmer in the dell.             

Hi ho the derry-o. The farmer in the dell.                     

And the mouse takes the cheese                                 

The mouse takes the cheese                                      

Hi-ho, the derry-o                                                       

This mouse I took their cheese

And the cheese stands alone                                     

The cheese stands alone                                                

Hi-ho, the derry-o                                                       

The cheese stands alone

The cheese sits alone.                                               

The cheese writes alone.                                           

 The cheese is alone!  

The cheese is alone.

Alone. 

Alone. Alo…

FRIDAY DECEMBER 10, 2010

JOURNAL ENTRY:                                        

FRIDAY DECEMBER 10, 2010 - 8:45 AM

They kept me in that cell all night. I typed until the battery went dead on my laptop. Then I just tried to get through the night. Between the frightened screams, the sound of metal clanging, the bristling of the swirling air moving down an empty tunnel and the water drops that pelted the steel girders in three-four time. It was like a symphony of madness raining down on me all night. Every sound was magnified. Intensified. 

My senses registered the beat of each sound, smell, sight, touch and taste as the night slowly passed and the fluorescent lights dimmed into complete darkness. Even in pitch black, my eyes could see shifting shadows in patterns that moved in tune with the noises. My ears heard the occasional footsteps from something that marked distance in my mind and whispered the direction of suffering that accompanied the hollow screams from the person I believe is Annette Dobson.