Possible

I'm sorry that June got away from me. Nothing has been happening, really, despite me trying and failing to get somewhere. The police are no help--they think I'm nuts, so they're out. I don't want to involve my girls in this at all; I'm terrified that thing will follow them.

I've tried and failed to connect with the Moores, but each time I get nothing. Are they that busy, or do they not want anything to do with me? I think it would be for the best if I not call them again for a while and see if it's still like this.

The only clue I have is this: I spent what would have been the second wedding anniversary of Catherine and I in bed, strangely weak. My head pounded and I couldn't move, but I do remember snippets of dreams.

Woods. Lots of woods. Trees so thick you couldn't help but feel claustrophobic. I remember what they look like...it's in a park near me. I'll go and try there.

But I hope I won't regret what I find.

Happy Birthday, Vivian!

And you are twenty-four this fine day. That Tex-Mex place you found was delicious! I'm glad you liked the CDs we gave you.

I'm feeling better now. The cough has gone away and I can talk without my throat hurting. I had my time off, now it's back on schedule.

I'm going to start looking again.

Happy Birthday to Me

So today I am 24, and still sick. I'm coughing up bloody mucus and my poor mother had to listen to me hack away all night. Due to me being sick we had to cancel the reservation to this nice restaurant. I feel so bad, but I'm even more mad at the fact that thing has something to do with my illness.

As soon as I'm better I'm going to keep up with my search.

Happy Mother's Day to all of the moms out there; you do so much for us little ones and we're eternally grateful. Keep on being awesome, moms.

Sick Dreams

I haven't been feeling so good. It started last Friday and even a week later I don't think I'll be well for my birthday. My coughs are wet and ragged, my body is weak, my head feels heavier than bricks. Doctors called it a cold, but I'm not so sure.

The other night I had another dream. I was in a field, located somewhere in the middle of a forest. Before me was the most flawless pomegranate I've ever seen. I picked it up, and from it I heard the unmistakable sound of a human heartbeat. I carried the fruit closer to the middle of the meadow and, with my nail, pried it open effortlessly. Whether it was juice or blood that flowed from it, I didn't know, but I ate the tiny seeds regardless.

I can't remember the taste, only that I ate them like my life depended on it. It finished it in seconds, the rinds withering and decaying in that same time.

Catherine stood in front of me, wearing the clothes that her body was found in: worn denim jeans, a light purple top with a floral design on the front. Suddenly her neck opened wide as did her stomach.

Her guts spilled from the wound and she mouthed words I could not decipher. Blood pooled around her and drenched her clothes like an ancient dye.

And behind her were lines of people sized Venetian dolls, staring at me emotionlessly...so why do I get the feeling that they were smiling?

I woke up feeling nauseous and so full of sadness. The rain falls on my window, mocking me.

I need to find answers. I don't care if I'm the only one who will do it.

Happy Birthday, Florence

Hey, I hope you had a wonderful day! Did you like the manga we got for you? We all pitched in and got it for you special.

I do want to let you know that I've been feeling better since the last time it rained. How many days ago was it, again? Can't remember, but I do recall the feeling of dread mixed with the smell of damp earth.

I had been running errands for my mom and I was on the phone with Florence at the time. She gushed over how much she loved the new Captain America move, how she had seen it three times already and wanted us to see it, too.

I shuffled the bags into the backseat of my car when I saw it again. Like the times before, it didn't move but stood at a reasonable distance away from me. I hastily ended the call, but not before telling Florence to keep her phone nearby just in case. It was then that the rain became a downpour, the raindrops drenching my hair and running into my face, forming a constellation on my long lashes.

Could this thing control weather?

Like a child I snuck into my car and waited until the heavy rain lightened. The radio had been reduced to static; no matter which channel I tuned to it was all  the same white noise. I flipped to channel 004 when I heard something...something I can't describe.

What I can formulate was it sounded like a chant--no, it was a chant. Through the static I swore I heard voices crying out eye-ah, eye-ah and then more things I couldn't decipher. I listened closer, and this is what I got:

Eye-ah ???, hear our voice

???, soul and voice of darkness

??? alal, hear our voice

Take our ??? we may hear you

Take our ??? so we may se you

I was chilled to the bone. I turned the car off and for a few blissful minutes all was silent except for the rain.

But that was ruined when I looked through windshield...it was standing only nine feet away from me. I could do nothing but stare in horror. I did not scream; I couldn't scream. The fear had silenced me.

I shut my eyes tight and cried, my heart beating like a drum in my chest and the sickening feeling that it was leering at me. Please go away, please go away, please go away...!!

The rain stopped completely; the only evidence of it was the dark clouds and the wet surfaces. I hesitated to start the car, but through the anxiety I found it in me to do so. The radio was back to normal and I drove home with the alternative rock station blaring.

I called Florence when I pulled into the driveway, hands still shaking.

"Flo...?"

"Ellie? Holy shit, are you alright?"

"I...Flo, listen. I don't--I think that I...something almost jumped me."

"What did he look like?" she snarled out protectively, "Who tried to hurt you? Did he have a knife or anything?"

"No! He--it didn't have anything." Just the possible power over nature. "He was just really scary looking and I didn't feel safe. I hid in my car and he...lost interest, I suppose. I'm home now, though! And feeling much better now that I'm talking to you." That wasn't a lie. The sun had started to peek through the clouds and Florence's voice eased my nerves.

She sighed, "All right then. If anyone tries to fuck with you, just call me and I'll burn them alive."

"I love you too, Florence."

"I'm serious."

"I know, I know," it felt good to laugh out the words, and after some minor small talk the call ended.

I really am feeling so much better...I just don't want it to rain anytime soon.

The Test

Eight days later I sat back in Dr. Frey's office. Instead of my usual, comfy seat I was led to a plain wooden chair, old and worn, which audibly creaked when I sat. He had me place my hands palm down on the small desk before me and walked away, pulling out a small sheet of paper.

"Now, Elizabeth, I want you to clear your mind completely. If you like you can close your eyes. I'm going to read you a list of words and you will tell me what you associate them with. Is this alright?"

I nodded, "Yeah, it is."

He leaned back into his chair, stopwatch in hand and paper in the other. "Good. Alright, first word: apple."

I said, "Pie."

"Doll," he murmured.

"Porcelain."

"Wolf."

"Wild."

"King."

"Crown."

"Darkness."

"Light."

"Baby."

"Family."

"Sex."

"...family..." my fingers curled against the cool desk. Suddenly I had a rush of memories of Catherine with me, bare breasted in the moonlight as we spoke of our hopes and dreams. "Yeah, family."


Dr. Frey 'hmmed'  and wrote something down. "I see, Elizabeth." He was silent for a moment, and I looked up from my pale hands to the diploma adorned wall before me. "You're anxious...you haven't gotten over Catherine, have you? This just shows me that you're hanging on to your beloved with an iron grip. You're not giving up on her or on finding her supposed killer."

I broke down inside. I evened out my voice as best I could, "I never will give up, Dr. Frey. I never will. I understand that, I accept that. I will go the rest of my life with my four best friends, but never another girlfriend."

I turned to look at him, and he gazed back at me with a heartbroken expression, "It can always get better, you know. You seem to not be giving it a chance."

He stood up and I followed suit. He scheduled me in for another three weeks. "Let me know if you see this black figure again."

Naomi's birthday came on the 10th of March, and on that day, at her house, while we laughed and joked and enjoyed ourselves, I saw it standing in the calmly in the twilight, right on the backyard lawn.

My throat tightened and I felt every vein in my body freeze. I chugged my decently sized glass of sangria to get moisture back into my mouth, and in the moment my eyes were averted, it seemed to come closer.

"Elizabeth?" Rebecca nudged me slightly, "You alright?"

I made the mistake of turning my head towards her, "I'm...sorry, I'm just out of it." I looked back to the window and it came just a few feet closer. My heart began to beat faster.

"No, you're not 'just out of it,'" Florence placed her glass on the coffee table. "What's the matter?
You're whiter than a ghost right now. You're not like that"

I blinked. It came closer. What could I say...?

"Don't look behind you," I whimpered, "Please, please don't."

"What?" Vivian's brow furrowed and she made the move to look at the window behind us. I grabbed her shoulders too roughly. "Ow! Elizabeth, what the fuck?"

Naomi turned around. She turned around as I held Vivian, went outside to check it out. I screamed at her to come back inside...she did, "Elizabeth, there's nothing out there. What's going on? Why did you freak out?"

What could I tell them? What could I say? "Please stay inside, girls. I don't want to lose you..." I broke down right on the floral couch, my tears landing on my glasses. My poor girls, they were so confused and worried. This was Naomi's special day and it ruined it. I ruined it.

For now it disappeared...but how long until it comes back?

Dr. Frey's Opinion

I didn't feel comfortable letting Lunagirl out of my sight after that incident, so against her wishes I kept her inside. She begged me with her adorable meows to let her back, but I knew, just knew, that the second time that thing wouldn't be lenient.

I scheduled an appointment with Dr. Frey and asked for a meeting as soon as possible. He had an opening on the following Wednesday, and so I went. In place of a bowl of cherries there was a small tray of cute colored macarons. I helped myself to, well, all of them (much to my shame; other people would have wanted those) as I waited.

The door to his office gently opened and he beckoned me inside. I practically bowled him over to get to the chair. Dr. Frey said, "Elizabeth, good Lord...what's the matter?"

I settled into the chair, gripping the smooth arms as I worded myself as best I could. Would he, too, think that I was nuts? I had to give it a shot, and I did.

He let me speak, listening intently the entire time and wrote down notes. When I had finished, he took off his glasses, folded them neatly and looked at me, "Elizabeth, listen to me. When you saw this Fear Dubh in that blizzard, you were cold, shaking, the snow obstructing your vision."

"But I know what I saw, Doctor," I pleaded, "it tried to go after my Luna! It's real. Please, please believe me. This thing is real and it killed Catherine."

Dr. Frey frowned, then sat back in his chair and nodded, "I don't know what to say, Elizabeth. Either her illness is spreading or, most unlikely, this creature is real. But let's go back further. Before the blizzard, did you see it then?"

"No, I haven't. But I did get...listen to this. I woke up one morning in December to find that someone had ripped a page out of Catherine's diary and taped it to the front door."

That caught his attention. He leaned forward, "Come again?"

I, too, leaned in, "Someone found Catherine's diary, something she took with her, ripped out the page that detailed her proposing to me, and left it on the front door. I still have it."

"Then tell the police as soon as possible. Why didn't you tell them then?"

That was a good question, but a part of me had a reason: it was a piece of Catherine that I held near and dear to my heart, and by giving it to the police, I would have to give it up. Later that day I did tell the police about my finding, much to their displeasure. They admonished me about not telling them sooner, but days later came back to me and said they could find nothing of use from it. No fingerprints, no markings, nothing. It was as if it just teleported there from nothing.

The rest of the session was unremarkable. He penciled me in for another session soon, and this time he would do a simple test, a similar one he did with Catherine.