More and later and over time

The easy thing to do would be to admit that I am crazy. In ways, I am. But the truth is something else entirely. There is always something hunting me as I hunt them. There is always something there which whispers strange truths into my ear keeping me tormented by reality.

I can't stop knowing. With this knowledge, there is a desire to act upon this knowledge, but yet, I cannot always understand the big picture, you see.

I think I want to tell the truth of it all. I think I want to try so hard to explain what happens now. It's different than before. Now, I cannot sleep, I cannot eat, and I feel so sick. There's something bad coming and I cannot stop it. I cannot pinpoint it either...mostly. This is because I cannot connect one with the other in this knowing.

When they die, I feel it. When they're drawn away, I feel it. I feel when enemies are near. I feel when I am being betrayed. I feel that something is coming. I feel the energy shift and the air gets tight around me. I cannot remember and I don't know where I am. I shiver and shake, my heart races, my breath quickens.....I just know and hate knowing and being cursed with knowing. I hate this so much and wish I was dumb or ignorant or I don't know. I just wish I couldn't know that which I cannot grab hold to. Why do I have to know and not be able to fix it?

I always wanted to cover up the truth with vampires and werewolves, you know. Because, you know, fantasy is always much more interesting than the truth. I wanted to tell stories about zombies and even silly little love stories too.

I am tired. I am so tired of pretending that I don't see things and I don't feel a presence. I am tired of pretending I don't hear the words in my head, near my ear, and through the trees. For, these things are not stories. These things are why I cannot breathe anymore. They are why I cannot sleep. They are why I am allergic to all my food now. I cannot contain the knowledge and it's eating me alive from inside.

Look, I don't know why, but I know things.... a lot...quite often. They won't leave me alone. It's not just about my imaginary friends anymore. It's like the whole world is moaning in pain and expecting me to do something about it, and I can't. It's like they're screaming in my ear and I can't pick apart the voices.

I hate the dissociation afterward when knowing bombards my brain and strikes me that I am numb. There's just too much. There's just too much of this for me. It's only getting worse. I mean, what am I supposed to do with this? When I know, what am I supposed to use that knowledge for? If I warn people, they think I'm insane. If I attempt to reach out to the knowing, I get nothing. It's like this heightened intuition that comes to me when it wants to and all I can do is freeze and watch its weirdness happen.


Just tell me...why does it even show itself to me in the first place. I think I just can't utilize it. I just don't know what to do. :(

Natalie's truth

It's been a while. It's been a long while, to be honest. I haven't written because my life has shifted again. Jake left me alone with them, long after my aunt died and shortly after our relationship failed. I moved from the house on Graham, the one where she died, yes. I moved and they came with me. I wanted them to. I asked them to come the day I packed the last of my belongings into the car. I asked them to come with me because it was just a nice thing to do, you see.

 It was warm that day, not too hot but hot enough to kick up dust. I had one more load to carry over to my new rental. I packed the rest and sat down by my old flower bed. I was sad, to say the least. Oh god, I was tormented by the move and leaving my little brick home. Then I thought of them, the ones out in the mimosas. I thought about the children that I would leave behind and the others.

"Hello..."

There was a breeze there, in those frilly decorative trees I love so much. I realized that I would also be leaving the mimosas. A friend of mine dug up a root and took it with her. Claims she will grow her own mimosa tree. I didn't do the same. I think I had other things in mind.

"I know you're here. My heart hurts and it's because I'm leaving you."

For 6 years I held their tiny hands in mine, feeling the pressure left there from their energy. I believed and I didn't believe, and that's why I started hunting them. The disbelief crossed the belief when I couldn't hear them for a long while. Then suddenly they would run squealing from behind the Graham house and across the front yard. I could hear their tiny feet pounding the ground as they run. Then I crossed the threshold again into belief...faith.

"I don't want to leave but I have to."

The sadness was palpable. I could taste the bitterness of it. I did not want to leave them and I think it was the worst part. I stared at the brick wall directly opposite of her death bed. I knew she would come with me, but what of the children?

"Come with me. I want you to come with me."

I cried then. Shortly after, I left Graham house for the last time.