I don’t know how to start. I’m afraid, but I need help. I think people on here can help me. I know this is confusing. I’m sorry. Bear with me. Let me explain.
Here is what I’ve been told.
My name is Arianna, but I go by Ari. I was an Environmental Science major at BU, but I have since been withdrawn. Medical reasons. I am twenty-one years old, and an only child. My favorite color was blue (but now I find that I prefer orange).
Here is what happened.
Correction.
Here is what they know happened.
I applied for and got an internship in central Maine. I decided to move in with my grandmother for the summer. She owns a large house near Baxter State Park, where I was to spend the majority of my internship. My grandmother does not own a phone, computer, or television, because she is a stubborn, old coot who refuses to progress with society (my father’s words, not mine). I was excited to spend time without technology, and told my friends and family not to write to me while I was away. Apparently, I wanted the time to do some “self-discovery”. As a result, my mother was not surprised when I failed to answer her letters.
She did, however, become concerned when I didn’t come home.
My dad decided to drive up to my grandmother’s to find out what was going on. My mother waited at home. At this point, it was mid-August. I hadn’t spoken with my parents since late May.
My dad called the police as soon as he opened the door and didn’t go in until they got to the house. He said it was because of the smell.
Here is what they found.
The house was in perfect order for the most part, everything in place, but covered in a thin layer of dust. There were only two rooms in disarray. The first was the kitchen. This is where they found my grandmother.
Cabinet doors had been torn from their hinges. Drawers were pulled out and smashed and kitchen supplies were scattered all over the place. The refrigerator (I’m told it’s the old-fashioned, heavy-duty type) was knocked over and everything inside was rotting. There were deep gouges in the walls, slash marks I guess. My grandmother was on the floor. Her throat had been ripped open and her sternum crushed. Supposedly, her left leg was… removed… at knee. They haven’t found it yet. She was lying, face up, in her own blood. It was all over the floor, and on the walls too. The autopsy said she’d been dead since early June.
They found me in one of the spare rooms. (Evidently, it wasn’t the one I’d originally been staying in; all my stuff was set up neatly in another room down the hall.) When they found me, the room was destroyed. The mattress had been taken off the bed, and was wedged against the wall by a bureau, so that it blocked the only window completely. The dresser was overturned and jammed against the door like a blockade. The closet door had been broken in half down its length. I had torn several, large chucks out of the wall (they knew it was me because my blood was smeared all around the edges of the holes) and apparently was living in the woodwork. One of the holes was filled with canned goods; I’d lined the others with torn, dirty blankets and sheets. The floor was covered in half-filled cans of food, feathers (from a pillow), and feces. Of all this though, the weirdest thing was that I apparently have managed to carve some ten thousand stars into the ceiling.
I was huddled in the corner when they broke down the door. Apparently, as soon as I saw them, I ran, on all fours, to the nearest hole in the wall and curled up there, screaming, while they tried to reason with me. Eventually, I had to be tranquilized, like an animal, so they could remove me from the wall.
I was in rough shape to say the least. My hands were all cut up and I was missing 3 fingernails. My hair was so matted that they decided just to shave my head when I got the hospital. I weighed barely a hundred pounds. Worst though, was that my face had been scratched up by the sharp lids from the cans I’d been feeding myself with. One was so infected that I still have the scar, stretching from the corner of my mouth, half way to my eye. I hate that most of all.
I was in the hospital for at least a month before I finally stopped hallucinating around the clock. They moved me here in early October. I started speaking comprehensively right after Christmas. (That’s as far back as I can remember by the way.) The “episodes” aside, I’ve been almost fully functioning since March.
Speaking of which, I should explain.
I have these “episodes” that mirror how I was acting when I was in the hospital. The doctors think I’m having flashbacks. The longest I’ve gone without one is four days; the most I’ve had in one day is seventeen. Some are really long, and others only last a few minutes. They happen randomly, and don’t seem to have any sort of trigger. I don’t remember them, but apparently, I’m quite… active during these events. Sometimes, I’ll contort or writhe around. Other times, I try to hide, or just rock back and forth. Sometimes, I can be violent. But I talk during them, almost every single time.
Three weeks ago, my doctors decided to start giving me the transcripts of my episodes. They think if I read what I’ve said, the words might jog my memory or something. They’re hoping I’ll remember what happened, because right now it’s a cold case. They’ve already determined that I didn’t kill my grandmother, something about my DNA not being in the wounds or whatever, but they want to know who did. Hell, I want to know!
Anyway, I was thinking people on here might be able to help. I’ll post the transcripts, any thoughts I have, memories… if they appear. Please, please if you think you can help, I’d really appreciate it. If think you know what happened, or what could’ve happened, if you have been to that area of Maine, please let me know. I’ll try to keep up with comments, but I’m only allowed on the computer like twice a week. I’ll do my best.
Below, I’ve posted a transcript of an episode from last month. I’m not sure what to make of it. I can’t help but wonder if the stars I talked about have anything to do with the ones I cut into the ceiling of the room I was in. I don’t know.
Patient A274
Episode JN16-122
(Whispering) It’s here… (inaudible words)
(Crying) Oh shit, it’s here! Fucking Christ! Fuck!
(Screaming) Fucking Christ, you’re here! You’re here!
Sobbing – five minutes
(Whispering) Fuck… Fuck no… Not again.
(Screaming) Get your fingers off me! Get the fuck off!
(Whispering) Fucking Christ! Christ look at the stars. The stars… The stars are watching. They know… They know…
Repeats “They know” – seven minutes
(Singing softly) They know, they know…
So long ago…
They reached, the dark hands
So long ago
Like velvet they touch
The dark stars know…
Repeats thirty-two times
Silence – three minutes
(Whispering) Why are you back? I did what you asked… (inaudible) I’m not sure! Please! Please leave me alone!
Crying – two minutes
(Whispering) It’s all gone… I told you it’s all gone! Fuck… Fuck… Yes, we’re alone…
Crying – four minutes
(Screaming) Stop looking at me! Leave me the fuck alone! Jesus Christ stop it! Don’t touch me! Go away!
(Crying) Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away…
Cries for fourteen minutes
Abruptly falls asleep
Duration: 58 minutes
Submitted July 20, 2016 at 06:42PM by shadowgirl_alone http://ift.tt/29YikXQ nosleep
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