I’m sorry for the delay on this update, although I’m not sure how many people are even reading this, let alone taking it seriously. I wasn’t even going to post here, but something about the feedback from this community made me feel like I was actually being listened to and believed. Maybe I’m just naïve. Maybe I’m just this alone and pathetic.
I wish I had better news to report, mostly for my own sake. I feel more disturbed and confused than ever. But, at the same time I feel like I’m edging closer to something. It’s like I’m walking down a long black hallway, sliding my shoulder against the wall to stay upright and on the other side I can feel the warm pulse of something sliding along with me. I’m nearing an answer but feeling all the more blind.
The drive was fine. I made it there before dark, thank God, and stopped at the gas station. The same skinny white guy was working behind the counter. He watched me suspiciously as I walked around the aisles of scant sundries and snacks. He actually slid out from behind the counter, his surprisingly rotund gut pushing his dirty gray t-shirt up and away from the top of his pants. He stopped at the end of the candy bar aisle and watched me browse. It irritated me and I whipped my head towards him.
“Yes?” I said, not knowing how else to address the situation in that moment.
“Hello,” he said in response, his brows puckering in concentration.
We both stared at each other.
“You were here before,” he said.
“Once, a while ago, yeah.”
His eyebrows coiled tighter, and he slowly looked me up and down. I shivered.
“What’s wrong with ya?” he said with a hollow voice.
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” I said.
“Well then why are you back?”
“Can’t a person visit the same place twice? I…like it out here.”
He laughed, but the grin dropped off of his face like someone had slapped him.
“Why are you here?” he said again.
This time I paused before answering. Chances were I wasn’t going to encounter anyone else before getting to the cabin. I figured it was probably my only chance to ask a local about the area.
“What do you know? I asked. I knew it sounded strange and dramatic, but I let it hang there anyway.
“About what?”
“About the hole.”
His eyes seem to vibrate in their sockets. The wet pink around them pulsed as he stood there watching me. Then, he moved swiftly towards the counter, went behind it and ducked down below, rustling around and knocking things over. I followed him.
“Hello?” I said, approaching the counter ringed with scratch offs and cigarette adverts.
Finally, he rose up and cocked a shotgun before pointing it directly at my heart.
“Whoa!” I said calmly, holding my hands up and backing up.
“Get out,” he said in a tiny voice that I could barely hear.
“Okay,” I said and kept backing away.
“I knew it. It’s the only reason anyone ever comes back.”
“I’m going. I’m leaving.” I reached behind me for the door handle but couldn’t find it without looking and my eyes were glued to the dark space in the barrel of the gun. I stopped.
“Can’t you help me? Please?”
“Go.” He squinted one eye. I turned and grasped the handle, pulling it towards me until I could squeeze through and run back to the car. He didn’t follow me out. I debated driving home and forgetting the whole thing, but that would be agony. I needed some resolution. I drove to the cabin, parked and sat in the car for a few minutes thinking. The sky was still dusky, and I wanted to go to the hole before dark.
I found myself standing in front of the hole, the sky, light purple above me, a soft, cool breeze rustling the leaves surrounding us. I don’t remember walking there from the car. I didn’t even have a flashlight or my phone with me. I tried peering down into the blackness but could see nothing.
“Hello?” I said. The words sounded like a whisper and I suddenly wasn’t sure if I had even said it at all.
The leaves crunched on the other side of the hole. I looked up and gasped when I noticed a figure standing there. It was all black. It was like a negative space in the shape of a person.
“What are you?” I said.
It started walking around the ring of the hole until it was beside me. I shook and a puff of hair escaped from my lips like smoke. I could hear and feel static electricity. It was uncomfortable but not painful. I was so scared I couldn’t move. The figure pushed me into the hole and I remember falling for what seemed like a long time and then I passed out.
A small sliver of morning sunlight woke me up. My head was pounding and my clothes were soaked. I was looking up at a circle of light from the bottom of the hole. I managed to sit up and stand, leaning on the wall for support. It was stone all around. I looked up and realized it was some kind of old enormous well. I shadow fell over part of the sunlight on the soggy ground. I looked up and saw a person looking down at me. I squinted. It was a woman, her long hair dangling in her face as she peered down at me.
“Are you ok?” she shouted.
“Oh my god yes! I think so! Call the police! Someone pushed me down here!” I said. She just stared down.
“Hello?” I shouted, my voice straining.
She didn’t move, just looked down at me, her hair swaying in the breeze, her face a blank dark circle, concealed in shadow. I started to cry. “Please help me,” I whispered.
Nothing.
“What do you want?” I said, sobbing.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to stay down there,” she said.
“What?”
She looked up and around at the woods. I recognized her face at once. It was my own. She was me, wearing my clothes, my skin, using my voice.
“I want to use all of this.” She touched her face. “I liked living with you at your home. Now you can stay and try living in mine.” She looked at me for a moment longer and then walked away.
“Wait! Come back! I shouted. Please!”
But she didn’t come back. And eventually I climbed my way out. The problem is that I don’t exist. She took my car and my phone, so I wandered the highway. No one would pick me up because no one could see me. When I got to the gas station, I opened the door and the attendant looked up and frowned but then went back to looking at his phone. The bathroom mirror showed me that I simply was not there.
I waited until he walked away to grab his phone and leave with it. I’m writing this from the picnic table behind the A Plus gas station on I-76 North near Exit 86. I can’t call the cops and my friends already think I’m crazy. If you believe send help or come here and help me get back to my apartment. I have to try to find a way home to confront the thing that isn’t me. Please, if anyone can help send me a message. I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know if this is real or a hallucination or what. I’m so afraid and so, so cold. Please.