Main plan for story: Take certain series of paragraphs and have them printed and trashed. Insert pictures of woman going through the woods. Take pictures of these pages and pictures on the ground around Madison. Really creepy in the insanity and spooky looming pictures. Look towards photoshop. This is fear no.3, Being alone. Represent a story that is slipping through the cracks into un-existance.
E-mail, Placemat, In garbage, on bulletin board, on the floor, on a lamp post, _________, __________, __________,
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Everything will one day disappear. People, places…. Things. Eventually fade and die to never be seen again. It’s only natural in a universe that’s consistently moving forward for things to be left behind. Like the light on the event horizon of a Black Hole, memories are sometimes the only thing that can tell us of what no longer exists. But if all you have left, is what’s left behind. You too will eventually be left behind.
If that’s true I disappeared a long time ago, pulled into a black hole and frozen on the edge looking in screaming. Watching everything around me being pulled in as well. My memory is all the light I have left, and even that is beginning to fade. I sometimes wonder if it completely goes out. If I too will finally leave this plane. Actually, why I am still here is the question I ask myself every time I breathe, eat, shit, and open the door.
I have to remember. I have to keep my memory from dying or the darkness will consume all. Things far worse than any nightmare will win, and they shall feast on all of the light, upon which we all live. I have to write these things down. These words need to remind me, keep me from disappearing along with her, and maybe. Just maybe. Bring her back, and prove she existed.
Lynne kept me from disappearing a long time ago. She filled the hole inside me that was swallowing my soul and body. A hole so black and great it prevented me from seeing those around me until she appeared like a brilliant star on the horizon. Just to see her smile and know that she was listening was all I needed to make me see all of the great things around me. The world existed in those liquid brown eyes of hers and I should have been happy with that…but I still had to look further…
Miskatonic is not a huge city. Big enough for a couple hundred thousand and Miskatonic State U., one of the greatest colleges outside of an ivy league. Not that I have ever graced its student roster. Lynne said just growing up around it was more than enough for my intelligence. Miskatonic U. had that sort of sway over the rest of the city. Culture and information just spilled over from it’s classrooms and halls into the rest of the city making it kind of it’s own little reality from any other place in the state.
Maybe that is why things have happened so easily. Why my little reality is so easily being turned into nothing. However, wasn’t it the school that led me to this? Wasn’t it the fact they couldn’t lock up something so dangerous that it consumed everything that was dear to me?
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