MYRI
He’s watching me.
The heat of his gaze is impossible to ignore. He wants to set me on fire, and as time passes, I feel myself smoldering. It won’t be long now.
My brother disappeared a few months ago, but I know exactly where he is.
I know how he got there and what led to his entrapment. I know because he told me.
In the aftermath of chaos and grief and hollowed-out wishes, I went to his apartment to clear out what remained of his life, and in his room, I found his journal.
Reading it has proven to be the worst mistake of my life because I know what’s happened to my brother. But he’s lost, and I can’t save him.
His absence haunts me, but so do my thoughts. I am wracked by guilt and for weeks have been fighting myself, my conscience. My heart is so empty.
It’s because I know that if I wanted to, I could help him. I could remove the shroud he has been encased in, and my parents, our family, could put this grief behind us. I could make us whole again.
But I can’t, and I won’t.
I can’t set him free. Because his freedom doesn’t just mean my demise, but others as well.
He scratches at the wall. I can see the indentations of his finger pressed against paint, the curve of a long nail attempting to penetrate plaster. Trapped. He is trapped. And he wants me to free him. He wants me to join him.
I wish I had never read his fucking journal because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be anticipating what was to come.
I could have spent my last days in blissful denial; instead, I listen to my brother call to me from inside the walls. The room is closing in on me, and pretty soon, I, too, will be trapped.
DEAR DIARY
1/6
Happy fucking new year.
Me and Luke are done. I guess in his mind, we never began.
Whatever, I’m tired of men. I’m tired of the bullshit they pull. I’m just tired.
I plan to spend the weekend throwing out all his shit, changing the locks, and BLOCKING HIS NUMBER. Not this trifling bitch blowing up my phone. I’m tired of his ass, and just like Bey said to the left. Everything you own in the box to the left.
Bitch.
1/10
I love him. I don’t know what else to say, but I love him so much. He’s sleeping, and I’m watching him and stroking his face.
If I can memorize the contours of his cheeks and imprint love with my touch, maybe I can conjure the solution to make him stay and never want to leave me again.
I love him.
1/11
“You have rats,” Luke told me during breakfast. “Roaches, something crawling in the walls. Maybe even fucking squirrels, I don’t know. It kept me up all night.”
His tone was light, but I heard the annoyance brewing underneath. My coffee was suddenly cold and slimy in my mouth. I knew where this was heading, and it wouldn’t be good. I had to stop where this was going before it got any worse.
“I’ll let the office know,” I said quickly. “The building is old. Rats, yuck. Hey, maybe I have a ghost.” I joked.
For a moment, my insides tightened as I gazed into Luke’s stormy eyes, and then he smiled, and the clouds dissipated. His eyes were clear and blue. His smile was warm. He placed his hand over mine. It was warm too.
“Hey, do you think the ghost watches us?” His voice was low.
“Watches what?”
“Watches me fucking you.”
1/11 later
Maintenance came and left. They heard nothing. I heard nothing. They said it could be the pipes and asked me what it sounded like. I had never heard it myself, so, of course, I couldn’t answer them. Embarrassing. I hate how awkward I am. I hate how easily confidence comes to others like Luke. I’m dumb, stupid, awkward, and just dumb. They left and told me to call if I heard it again.
I said yes, sure, and relief washed over me when they left.
I wouldn’t call them again. I knew that.
Because in the years I’ve lived here, I have never heard any sound in the walls. Only Luke has.
1/13
Luke woke me up. It was around 2 am. His breath was hot and stank.
“Do you hear that?” He hissed. “The scratching?”
I was so tired it took me a moment to orient myself. I nearly nodded off in my exhaustion, but Luke poked me awake.
“Listen,” he hissed. “Hear that?”
It was so dark it overwhelmed all of my senses, but at the same time, it heightened them.
There were scratching noises coming from inside the walls. Papery rustling as whatever was trapped inside scurried back and forth, back and forth.
There was indeed something in the walls. Many things from the sound of it because the longer I listened, the louder it became.
And even though everything was so impossibly black, I could see the walls moving like ripples in a tepid ocean, pulsating like a heartbeat.
It was mesmerizing really. Hypnotic in a way.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I must have because when I woke, the sun’s light was merciless on my face.
“Good morning,” I said, turning to wrap my arms around Luke, but I embraced nothing but air.
Luke was gone.
1/14
Why does everyone I love leave
What the fuck is wrong with me
** 1/18**
Mama and Myri came by today. They said they’re worried because of my Instagram posts.
I’m fine. Of course, I am, and I appreciate their concern.
Myri is pissed. I mean, she’s normally pissed, but she’s beyond pissed.
“I have always hated him,” she told me. “You know that. You deserve so much better, Nate. Fuck. Him.”
I love her, I do, but she doesn’t understand.
Don’t they see that I don’t deserve better? Somebody like me, who can’t talk correctly and would rather listen than speak. Who would want to be with somebody so worthless? Why don’t they see?
It doesn’t feel real. I can’t believe that Luke is gone.
Things were going too well, and now he’s gone. I haven’t seen him since that night in bed.
I keep calling him. I can’t stop calling even though, besides the constant ringing, there’s just the monotone voice telling me to leave a message. I’ve left so many fucking messages. I’ve cried so much I can’t conjure any more tears.
I’m so confused because all of his stuff is still here. His bag, his clothes, his fucking toothbrush. His keys. It’s only him who is gone. Him and his phone.
I’m pissed, and I’m mad, and I’m hurt. I am fucking furious at him but more so at myself. Why am I so fucking stupid? I’m worthless. I don’t want to be alive anymore…
1/22
I feel as though I’m being watched??? it’s so strange, and I’m sure I sound deluded (maybe even hopeful), but it feels like it’s Luke. As if he’s here with me and he’s watching me.
Sometimes I even hear him.
His voice is hoarse, but I can tell it’s him. He whispers my name like a prayer, and I swear I saw his body pressed against the wallpaper like a shadow.
I’m going crazy, of course. of fucking course I am. I’m drunk again, too, because what else am I to do but drink and watch the room pulsate around me. Like a heartbeat.
2/17
The police were just here. Sorry (who am I apologizing to??), my handwriting is insane, rn I can’t stop shaking.
Luke didn’t leave me because Luke is missing, and I was the last one he was with.
My mind is blown. I don’t know what to make of this. I’m upset and worried, of course, but I’m also relieved.
I know it’s terrible, and I know it’s beyond selfish, but at least I know he didn’t just fuck off to someplace/someone else. I mean, he definitely could of, but it’s unlikely.
He hasn’t been back to his place. His car is in his driveway, untouched.
Of course, the police suspect me. They insisted on coming in to question me.
Luckily Myri was here and stopped them.
“Do you have a warrant?” My sister asked brusquely–all business.
“No, but we just-“
But Myri shook her head. “You can come back when you have a warrant. Goodbye.” She firmly shut the door in their faces.
In the wake of the news, I crumbled, and despite her feelings for Luke, Myri was there for me. She hated him, but she loved me.
How was Luke missing? Where had he gone?
“This makes no sense,” I said, swallowing the last of my wine. “Why would he go? Where? I don’t understand this, Myri. How can somebody disappear into thin air?”
Myri opened her mouth to speak and then paused. She frowned.
“Do you hear that?” She hushed me. “Like scratching? In the walls.”
We sat silently and listened to the sounds of something trapped in a small space, trying desperately to find its way out.
2/19
The cops came back with a warrant. I watched helplessly as they searched for whatever remained of Luke. They took his keys, toothbrush, and everything else he left. They asked me about his phone and I told them truthfully that I didn’t know where it was. And then they took me.
Myri met me at the police station. She had brought along one of her coworkers to represent me.
“You’ve got nothing on my client,” the snow-haired woman said frostily. “Please continue to search for him, but my client has nothing to do with his disappearance.”
And that was it. They let me go. I thanked my sister and her feisty attorney friend (Dena is her name) and entered my apartment.
I immediately felt eyes on me. A penetrating gaze that I would know better than anyone.
“Luke?” I said into the silence. “Luke, are you here, honey?”
Scritch-scratch
That sound. It came from the wall, of course.
“Luke, if it’s you knock.”
I waited with my heart pounding in my ears. Anticipation coursed through my veins.
Knock. Knock
Scritch - scratch
I wasn’t scared when he knocked hard against the plaster.
I was, and I am thrilled.
2/23
I never thought I would be in love with a ghost. I never even believed in ghosts. But I know I’m not hallucinating and that what I hear and see is real.
It’s Luke, and he’s here with me. He’s trapped in the walls. All this time, he’s been here.
I freaked the fuck out.
I didn’t think. I just did it. I took a hammer and smashed the wall where the sounds had come from. I hit it repeatedly until it caved in and crumbled all around me.
I coughed and waved away the plaster dust, and I stared.
I expected to see his body, but there was nothing there. Nothing but cobwebs and dead bugs, nothing but his phone.
I reached in and took it. I held it in my hand as it charged. I waited and waited, went to sleep, and waited some more.
His phone never turned back on. It was dead, and at that moment, I knew he was too.
2/24
“It was just a dream,” Myri told me over lunch today. “You’re stressed and grieving, so, of course, you thought you heard him because you want to.”
It makes sense, but she’s wrong.
It wasn’t just a dream. What I had heard and seen was real. I have his damn phone in my pocket, and this morning I saw him. I saw him clear as day. I had just woken up and was lying in bed when suddenly, all around me, the sounds of pounding and slapping echoed.
It was coming from inside the walls.
It was deafening. The floor shook beneath my feet. I thought at any moment, the ceiling would collapse.
The wall warped and bulged as hands pushed and stretched toward me. Fingers hooked into curved talons and body-shaped silhouettes stalked, straining against the thin paper. Everywhere, bodies closed in around me. I was stuck in their crush, and I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t breathe. I had no air to do anything. Everything was so heavy, and my vision was fading. I could only watch as the walls bled black and consumed me.
I told my sister this. I told her everything.
Well, almost. I didn’t tell her about the phone. And I never will.
3/1
Luke is here. His outline is so clear. I touched him. I know every curve of his face. I kiss every single contour and scar. I press myself against him. He feels like home.
Every day he becomes more prominent, and our conversations, god, they’re so fun!
I used to be afraid to talk. You know that. You’re me, duh. But now I can’t seem to shut up, and he listens to me. He says he loves my stories, and he loves hearing me speak.
It’s so nice. It feels different, but it’s nice.
I’ve missed him so much.
I love him.
3/9
Something is wrong. It feels so wrong.
Luke’s phone woke me up this morning. It woke me up because it was screaming.
It was fucking screaming, and not just any scream. It was Luke. I know it was Luke.
I’ve known this man for over ten years. I know what he sounds like.
It was horrible, but I forced myself to listen. I forced myself as I stared at the phone’s still dead scream.
“Nate! Help me!” Luke howled. “Help me! Please help me! I’m trapped. Oh my god, Nate, it burns. It’s burning. It’s burning me. Nate! Nate!”
It was terrifying, but what scared me the most wasn’t the sound of my love screaming for me to help him, nor the sizzling and popping of him being burned alive.
It was the silence that followed. It stretched infinitely, and when Luke spoke again, his voice was calm. Cheery even.
“I’m in the walls, Nate. I’m watching you. Why don’t you join me, my love? We can be together. Always.”
5/10
It’s dark. The power was cut off.
I haven’t been to work in a month. I’m sure they fired me. I don’t care.
Mama and Myri have come by a few times. On the first visit, I let them in. They talked to me, but I don’t remember what about. Behind them, Luke smiles at me. I see in the wallpaper the impression his teeth make.
I smile back, and Mama and Myri exchange a look. I know what that look means, and I know it’s time for them to go.
They’re no longer welcome.
I didn’t answer the following five times they came in. I didn’t care when their voices rose in anguish (mama) and anger (Myri), and eventually, they went away.
The last time, though, Myri somehow got in. I was so startled and angry when I heard her call to me, her heels clacking noisily on the floor.
“What can I do?” I whispered into Luke’s face. “She’s coming. I don’t want her to see you. Or me.”
He extended his hand to me. He didn’t say a word. He no longer talked to me, listened, and helped me.
I took his hand, and the pain was shockingly sudden. It took all the breath away from me. I have never been stabbed before, but I’m more than sure I was being stabbed.
It felt as though every part of my body was being punctured, and impaled by hundreds of sharp objects.
It’s funny looking at things from a brand-new perspective. It’s amazing being able to look at people when they do not know that you are watching.
I watched my sister walk into my room. She gasped when she saw the trash, moldy food, and dirty clothes strewn around.
“Nate!” she called. Her voice shook. Her entire body was trembling. “Nate! Where are you? Oh, God.” She ran room to room, calling my name.
She didn’t find me, but I was there the entire time. I smiled and watched her. I reached out and tucked back a piece of her hair.
She froze and turned to look right at me. I knew she could see me.
Myri ran out and I laughed.
Luke told me it wasn’t time for me, so he let me return to my world.
Leaving was as painful as going in, but being alone hurts more. I want to be with him always and forever.
Please, Luke. Please let me in.
5/12
It’s funny how Luke thought there were rats in the walls because they are out here with me. I’ve seen at least two, but I know there are more.
The walls are rumbling again, and the hands are reaching for me. Luke pressed his mouth right against my ear.
“It’s time,” he says. “It’s time.”
“Time for me to be with you?” I asked. I couldn’t stop crying.
He nodded, and I traced his jawline with one long, shaking finger. I’ve waited for so long.
“We can be together? Forever then?”
“Yes,” he hissed. “Yes, we just need one more.”
“One more for what?” I asked, and this was the first time since the walls started talking to me I’d felt any fear.
“Resurrection,” Luke said, but it wasn’t just him, I heard. All around me, the voices spoke. They watched me.
I know what I have to do, and I wouldn’t say I like it, but if that means I won’t be alone, and I’ll be loved, I’ll do it.
I feel bad for everyone involved, but I know she’ll understand, and I know in the end, she’ll be as happy as I am.
Won’t you, Myri?
Aren’t you so happy?
MYRI
At first, I thought my brother had had a psychotic break.
How else could you explain the sudden shift in his personality? His copious drinking.
He had been in this abusive relationship for so long and had tried to be a pillar of resilience and strength. Of course, he had crumbled. He’s only human.
He was human. I have no idea what he is anymore.
I’ve read his diary more times than I can count. It was complete insanity, but on the 20th reread, something happened.
I heard scratching from inside my house, and lately, the walls have begun to move.
I’ve had a lot on my plate lately–crazy cases and even crazier clients, my brother’s descent into madness, and his disappearance.
It’s stress, I told myself. Of course, it’s just stress. Grief is transforming the landscape of my life. Heartache is making me believe my brother is here with me. He’s watching me. I can see him outlined behind the pale yellow paint.
The room is closing in on me, and my hands won’t stop shaking. Im sweating it’s so hardto type now.
I feel fingers playing with my hair. The door is so close, and yet so far z. Im going to try to make a run for it. I won’t let him take me.
I don’t know what I’ll do or where I’ll go. I just know I can’t be trapped and confined within the walls.