Monday, June 11, 1973

Monsters Are Not Real


I was alone in an ocean-like room of white. It wasn’t an ocean, and it wasn’t a room. I stood in the middle and on the edge. A Tree as Tall as a Man (or perhaps it was a Man as Tall as a Tree) stood in front of me.

“You do not exist.” I threw at him. Monsters are only as real as you believe them to be.

He stood over me and grinned without using his face. “You believed in the wrong thing.”

I remember exactly how this dream ends.

Sunday, June 10, 1973

Alone


I’m alone in the forest of Trees as Tall as Men (or Men as Tall as Trees). I wandered down that small dirt road to the lake. I didn’t have any tubes or rafts or books or chairs. It was large and calm and clear. It was beautiful out, but the Foul Wind was blowing harder than a hurricane.
I saw more shadowy monsters in the trees. They imitated the forms of humans. They looked like Jared and Emily and Lori, but they didn’t. They were long and short and stiff and rubbery.

Monsters are only as real as you believe them to be.

“You do not exist.” I casted, and they disappeared.

More replaced them. They appeared faster than I could will them away. The shadowy monsters grew and grew until the Trees as Tall as Men (or Men as Tall as Trees) were no longer in sight.

Monsters are only as real as you believe them to be.

Saturday, June 9, 1973

The Forest of Men


We have to camp outside now, in the forest. The Foul Wind is definitely blowing harder now. The sky can’t hold all the grief we are throwing at it. So we settled our tents in the Trees. Uncle Luke was crying. When I talked to him, he stared at me with an odd light in his eyes.

“You are supposed to be dead.”

I thought he was saying that the bugs should have gotten me, but he explained, “I saw you fall to your death.”

“No, I’m okay. I just missed my footing.” I insisted. “I’m not dead.”

Friday, June 8, 1973

Pictures of Clouds


Everyone left because they were tired of death. They believed me to be dead so they left me behind. Now I’m alone in this forest. I didn’t know what else to do, so I sat on my back and took pictures of clouds with my eyes.

Above me the Trees looked like they were as Tall as Men (or maybe they looked like Men as Tall as Trees).

Thursday, June 7, 1973

Dead or Alive


Marcus told me I was dead. Melinda told me I was dead. Everyone I met told me I was dead. I’m not dead. Why do they believe I’m dead? I tell them again and again that I just lost my footing; I wasn’t hurt at all. They’ll stop believing in me and I’ll disappear.

Monsters are only as real as you believe them to be.

Tuesday, June 5, 1973

Eliza


Eliza and I were sitting in our room when Robert threw open the door. “They’re everywhere!” He screamed, “Get out of the house!”

As the words came out of his mouth, insects started crawling from the vents and under the door. They seemed to phase through the floorboards. There were more than just cockroaches this time. There were hideous things: spiders and beetles and centipedes and flesh eating things.

“YOU DO NOT EXIST!” I cried in response. Despite my spell, they continued to pour from the ground and the walls and the ceiling. “YOUDONOTEXISTYOUDONOTEXISTYOUDONOTEXISTYOUDONOTEXIST!!!”

Robert stared at me as if I were insane. “What are you doing? Of course they exist!”

“Monsters are only as real as you believe them to be.” I told him.

It was too late, though. Eliza was gone, the swarm had hollowed her out from the inside, erupting from her skin like volcanoes.

I ran.

Bugs


The house has been infested with cockroaches. I’ve never heard of there being cockroaches here before, but I suppose they can appear everywhere. They’re all over the house. They run all over the floors and walls and get under your feet. We have to wear shoes all the time in the house now.
I told them that there were no bugs, but they wouldn’t believe me. I told them that monsters are only as real as you believe them to be, but they wouldn’t believe me.