What does a sane mind look like when subjugated by waves of unrelenting madness? An innocent home video turned into murderous slaughter. Normal, loving parents morphing into deceitful, homicidal maniacs. The very foundation under my metaphorical feet disappearing, leaving my fragile psyche spiraling into the unknown abyss.
Yes, I tend to get just a little bit philosophical when I’m under a lot of stress. I suppose, under normal circumstances, it helps calm my nerves, but as I sat in that dark cabin cradling Dave like a little baby - my “mom’s” sinister words echoing repeatedly in my head - I felt no relief in delving into the soothing corners of fatalism. The situation required swift action. Swift, decisive, well-executed action. Not my strong suit.
So I did what I imagine anyone in my situation would do; I called my big brother. He’d know what to do. He was my polar opposite in many ways; charismatic, athletic, outgoing, funny. He could make widows laugh on the day of their late husband's funeral, and effortlessly talk his way out of any crime, petty or otherwise. He’d help me out, like he’d done so many times before.
I’ll spare you the boring details of the conversation, which in short involved a lot of uhm’s, and me desperately trying to string together a coherent narrative (failing many times over), and Justin patiently waiting for me to finish.
“That’s, uhm, all I know,” I murmured tiredly. “I know, uhm, it’s hard to believe, but I swear, Justin, it’s the truth.”
There was a long, silent, awkward pause. “I believe you, Jeffy,” he finally said. “I don’t know why, but I believe you.”
It felt like a great burden was lifted from my shoulders, and I could finally breathe again. The growing tension in my chest faded instantly, and I even think I smiled, or at least thought about smiling. I’d do that quite often for some reason. Think about things, instead of actually doing them. Like the manifestation of thought was enough.
“So, uhm, what now?” I asked.
“Just hang back, Jeffy,” he said. “I’ll get in touch with the police. Explain everything. You get some rest, stay put. I’ll call you when I have some news.”
I glanced around the cramp, dark cabin. There was nothing but the couch I was sitting on, a table, a few ramshackle cabinets, and a cast iron stove. “Yeah,” I said. “I’ll do that, uhm, Justin. Please hurry, OK? You know, uhm, I don’t like waiting.”
“Will do, Jeffy, will do,” he said reassuringly, before hanging up.
I sat in the darkness for a while, staring at nothing except dull wooden walls, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. It didn’t. Nothing made sense anymore, and I had a hard time figuring out how anything could ever make sense again. It was like my whole life had been an illusion, an impossibly elaborate magic trick, where I was the poor white rabbit stuffed in the hat all this time, obscured and hidden from heinous reality.
I guess I must have dozed off at some point. Collapsed in exhaustion. I know it wasn’t a dreamless sleep, because I remember swimming in rivers of blood, but I care not to dwell on the details of it. Doesn’t help with my anxiety. Doesn’t help with my sanity.
I woke up sweating and shivering and hurting to the vague sensation of my phone buzzing. I’d been asleep for at least twelve hours, but it felt like barely a minute, and the vibrant rays of the sun blinded me as I stumbled to my feet. My body felt battered and beaten, almost like I’d been in a car crash, and it took me a moment or two to realise that, yes, that’s exactly what had happened.
“Uhm, Justin?” I muttered weakly. “Did you fix it? Can I come home?”
There was no answer. Just silence. I waited patiently for maybe thirty seconds, every so often checking if the call was still active. “Justin?” I queried once more.
“Jeffy…” Justin said, voice trembling. “You need to stay put, OK? Don’t move, you hear me? Help is on the way, all right?”
“Uhm,” I stammered confusedly. “Uhm, I don’t understand? Did they find dad? Did they find mom? Is, uhm, she in, uhm, jail?”
I found Dave chilling in the warm sun behind the couch, and gently lifted him up with one arm. He was a support animal of sorts I suppose. I always felt calmer when holding him.
“They, they, oh shit,” Justin whispered. His voice was cracking, like he was crying, or trying to avoid crying, and it really put me on edge. Justin never cried. “They found Jenna. At mom and dads. She, they, she is dead, Jeffy. Stabbed, murdered, blood all over, absolute fucking mess. Oh shit.”
“And, uhm, mom?” I asked. “Did they find mom?”
“Missing, gone,” Justin sighed. “But that’s not all, Jeffy. The baby, the baby, Jenna’s baby, shit, the baby is missing too. Nowhere to be found.”
“Uhm, oh,” I muttered. “That’s, uhm, not good, is it?”
“No, Jeffy, that’s not good at all,” he said, a slight hint of annoyance in his tone. “But listen, the cops want to talk to you. It’s real important, Jeffy. Just, you know, stay put. Don’t run. It won’t look good if you run, Jeffy.”
“Uhm, OK,” I said. “But why? Why can’t I just come home? I haven’t done anything. I can show them the video. Prove that mom did it.”
“Stay put, you hear?” he said sternly. “Just stay there. I’ve given them your location, Jeffy. They want to bring you in. Don’t. Do. Anything.”
“Uhm, sure, I guess,” I said, staring at Dave, trying to understand what was happening. “I’ll just, uhm, sit back with Dave then, I guess.”
“Yes, of course, Dave,” he sighed. “Stay put with Dave, sure. I’ll let them know, OK?”
“Uhm, yeah, thanks Justin,” I said. “Talk soon.”
He hung up, leaving me once again drowning in the fathomless depths of my own anxiety. I knew that I could trust Justin, but I also instinctively knew when he was lying. He’d done it before. Leave out certain details to keep me calm and docile, as he’d have it. He didn’t want me to worry, to stress out, to lose my mind. But this time it went deeper. This time I’m not sure he believed me - or worse yet; he didn’t trust me.
I couldn’t know for sure what the police had told him, or what he’d told the police, so in my rather feverish state of mind I did the exact opposite of what he ordered me to do; I promptly left the premises. Grabbed Dave and the laptop, and stumbled into the forest, not having the slightest idea of where I was. Add that to the fact that my sense of direction was abysmal at best, and you have one confused Jeffy heedlessly heading for disaster.
In retrospect it was somewhat of a miracle that I didn’t just topple over and fall unconscious out there in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t realise the extent of my blood loss until I saw my ragged pajamas in the bright sunlight. I was positively drenched in blood. From neck to toe, a crimson spectacle staggering through the woods. There’s like a few gallons tops in a human body, right? I’m sure some of you know this. I didn’t.
I went to some rather dark places of my psyche on my impromptu hike. Revisiting memories I didn’t know existed. Time spent delving into a childhood that seemed so strangely...lacking. I could barely remember anything before the age of six. And even then, there was little but snippets. Brief flashes and fragments. Isn’t that strange?
Dave seemed to enjoy cleaning my clothes though, and with him as company, and possibly some sort of feline guardian angel, I somehow managed to keep up a moderately acceptable pace. I didn’t want to expose my rather ominously decorated persona if I could avoid it, so when I stumbled upon the main road several hours later, I kept myself hidden in the treelines for as long as possible.
Thankfully the streets were more or less empty when I reached the outskirts of town. It was getting pretty late, so shrouded by shadows and sneaking stealthlessly around corners, I was able to get to my apartment unseen by anyone except for the neighborhood hobo, Lars. He’d probably seen stranger things though, so he didn’t seem altogether that bothered by my bloody appearance, nodding idly as I gracelessly tripped past him.
I let out a sigh of relief as I pushed the door open. A shower, fresh clothes, food, sleep; mundane privileges we all take for granted, but oh so heavenly when you’ve gone without them for just as little as a day. I put Dave down, thanking him for putting up with me, secured the laptop, and headed for the shower.
I was halfway into the bathroom when I noticed the smell. I say noticed, but in reality it was more like a pungent punch right up my nostrils. I doubled over on the floor more or less instantly, retching half of my lungs up, the other half desperately hiding behind other organs. A flood of memories overcame me as I lay there gasping for air, but they all seemed so...false. Like they’d happened to someone else. Flashes of screams and blood and death, tears and pain and torment.
I managed to stumble to my feet, switching on the light as I did. The sight that unfolded sent me sprawling to the floor once more.
There was a...thing in the bathtub. Once human, I am sure. Now in pieces, I’d say dozens of them, limbs, organs, guts, bobbing around in a pool of blood and other fluids that probably belongs on the inside of the body. I resorted to crawling out of there, slamming the door shut the moment I crossed the threshold.
I spent the next five minutes hyperventilating on the floor. There was an image etched into my mind. A head, a face, floating around in the pond of rotting remains like a grotesque parody of a rubber duck. A face I instantly recognized. A head I’d seen so many times before.
It was my mom.
I anxiously fumbled with my phone, knowing there was only one person I could call, but I was immediately greeted by a bunch of unread messages and missed calls, all from Justin. I guess I hadn’t noticed. I opened the messages, feeling an unrelenting dread rising as I rapidly read through them.
Justin: Are you still there? The cops are coming now. Don’t move.
Justin: They should be right outside now. Don’t move. Stay put Jeffy!
Justin: They’re inside. Can’t find you. Where are you? Stay where you are, and call me.
Justin: Where are you you fucking shit? I told you stay put!!
Justin: FUCK YOU JEFFY!! WHERE ARE YOU?
Justin: YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD WHEN I FIND YOU JEFFY!!
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