“Dec. 23: I’m freaking out. Nothing appears normal here. I’ve lost track of time. The sky always looks dim and heavy. How can that be? What’s become of day and night? It doesn’t get bright or pitch black. It’s as if there’s a dirty film over the place. My legs feel like they walked many miles, but I keep seeing my car directly ahead. Is the car following me? I can’t figure things out. I’m tired, but I can’t fall asleep. I haven’t slept since I woke up hours ago, but it must have been a whole day because I can feel my chin’s five o’clock shadow.
And what’s with these trees? Some are twisty or bent to the ground, while others are completely straight. They don’t feel right either. There’s some kind of slime coming out of the squat looking ones. I’m also starting to hear something like a cross between murmurs and light rustling. For some reason, my nose is also picking up smells that kind of makes me want to throw up. My mind seems to be playing tricks. I’m writing what I can so I can read it later to see if I’m making any sense, although my eyes aren’t helping. They seem to getting progressively bad. Am I becoming myopic? I’m thirsty and hungry but my body can’t seem to stop from walking around. I’ve actually tied my legs to a tree stump so I will stop walking. I can barely write.
I just want to be . . . “
To be continued
Deep in the woods of Pine Valley somewhere in the northeast part of the new country is where shadows rule the isolated acres of trees. Only a few have ventured there. Among them was a poor soul by the name of Kevin McCue; he took a wrong turn as he drove on the long, winding, mind numbing drive up toward the hills. His destination was supposed to be a cozy cabin in a small town called Spruce, to celebrate Christmas with his young family. Instead, he made a detour that fateful day.
Later on, his journal was found near the Zipcar he drove. The rented Honda Civic was in a ditch. Yet there was no sign of Mr. McCue anywhere. As caretaker and Sheriff of Pine Valley, I pored over the journal to find a clue of his demise. And right now I don’t feel optimistic.
Peruse the journal entries for yourself, Mr. Lang, so you can confirm what you need to with his grieving wife. Please make yourself comfortable and read, while I pour you a cup of tea.
“Dec. 21: I’m excited to see my baby Nicole and my beautiful wife, Penny. I told Penny this is the last long distance trip I’ll take for the next two years. I’m going to be home more often so Nicole will know she’s got a daddy. I’ve been driving for eight solid hours and I’m getting tired. The weather has been surprisingly mild up here in the hills. I’ve decided to stop in Pine Valley to take a quick nap and then resume driving. My head is starting to feel light, so I’m going to stop writing for now and get me some sleep.”
To be continued