Firstly i would like to start by saying i am not an avid writer, and by not avid i mean i don't even know what avid means. i read that word somewhere and now I'm using it. but i do get possessed by some sort of ghost of a writer and then i spend all my time trying to craft a coherent sentence.
There is no secondly because i already ran out of things to say. - Alex
I AM HERE BUT I'M NOT
Linger.
As I lay dead in my grave and forgotten.
When my bones decay and flesh have rotten.
Does my words still linger?
Among the poets, or in the song of a singer?
Did I write all those words In Vain?
Things I thought of, when I went insane.
Do I still linger as a forgotten stain?
Slowly washing away in pouring rain?
Insomnia.
A sad song playing in an empty room,
Dim yellow lighvt and cigarette fume.
Lonely old clock still ticking,
Drip drip drip the faucet is leaking.
Beyond the window while the city is sleeping,
A restless man lies awake, weeping.
Out of his window hangs a beautiful moon,
While the radio plays a forgotten tune.
Counting stars and counting ships
The man lies awake while the city sleeps.
The song.
A ghostly figure staring back at me
Frail and fragile,
A shadow of a man that it used to be.
His dull brown eyes cast a spell
He reeks of insanity,
A creature from hell.
His soft cold voice,
Murmurs a song.
“I’ll take you to a place,
If you come along.”
“Beyond the valley on a mountain side.
Where a girl once lived,
And a boy once died.”
Memories.
From my childhood I Remember
My house in Yellow lights.
Windy evenings and
Coldest nights.
A train passing by, Dark Black sky.
Thunder roars aloud, Lights go out.
Fireflies in a jar and Red lights of a car.
My eyes could never look that far,
So I wasted my wishes on Falling star.
The smell of cold, her heart of gold.
Little army toys, Three young boys.
My childhood friends and the winters end.
A place.
Many many years ago
When I was a child.
I knew a place by the river,
Where the grasses grew wild.
Friendship departed, and reconciled.
I remember the river bay,
And how we smiled.
Mad fable.
Let me tell you a fable,
About this man who was unstable.
He would often stand on a table,
And give other people a label.
“I’m not crazy” he would sometime say,
It’s all a game to me and that’s how I like to play.
Red roses.
Roses are red, and now I'm dead.
My skin turned blue, I guess I had the flu.
Now I can walk through a post,
Because I’m a ghost.
I may haunt your dream,
You might wake up with a scream.
Maybe I’ll pull a chair?
That might give you a good scare.
I will make some noise,
And you may even hear my voice.
Roses are red, I’m under your bed.
Roses are red, I’m very very dead.
The red one.
I heard that story many times. A well-known legend around these parts. How something came out of the swamp and dragged old man Herman’s little boy into the water. That night he was sitting at the porch while his wee little boy was playing in the mud. He saw something emerged out of the dark water. A humanoid creature. Slimy, awful and hideous. He says he remember them red glowing eyes and the helpless cry of his baby boy. He still sees those red glowing eyes in the swamp at night. Watching him. Old man Herman calls it “the red one”. Of course no one believes him as he is a famous town drunk. I didn’t too. I always reckoned it was a gator of some sort. Poor old bastard, I thought. I was always proud of my rational thinking and not believing in the tall tales of these simple folks. But being out here in the swamp, in the middle of the night makes me think otherwise. When you constantly feel like something is watching you, your pride and logical thinking goes out of the window. When a primitive fear of unknown and unseen takes a hold of you, you see things.Things that may seem like a work of fiction from the comfort of your cozy home. Now it feels very real. Oh God! I think I see something behind those trees. I know its watching me. With those hideous red glowing eyes!
2020-10-30
The Red One
March 06, 2020.
That room in the attic.
Last night I had a dream, I remember reading a book, and it was horror. I vaguely remember the cover of the book. It was in red with yellow, a picture of a man and a house. The title was in one of those dripping horror font, but I cannot recall what the name of the book was. As I started to read it, I was inside the story. In the book I was not me anymore. I was someone else, a young boy as I remember, short blond hair and blue eyes maybe 14 or 15 years old. There I lived in a red 3 story building with some other people in it. It was a spacious house. I remember a girl with pony tail reading a book in the living room. I heard people singing and laughing, I remember cold wind blowing through the windows at night. I could go anywhere in the house, anywhere except the attic room on the 2nd floor. It was barred shut. I was very curious about the room. I remember short encounters with the people inside the house but I can only remember two blond girls most probably twins.
I cannot remember what sort of things we talked about but I can remember that I was very fond of one of them, she had long golden hair in ponytail. I even gave her some sort of present. I remember how she smiled, she seemed very pleased. I would often hang out with one of the twins. Things were going fine. But with the passage of time my curiosity about the attic room increased to the point that I just had to know what was inside it. I would often ask about the room to the girl and she would often get upset. So I decided I would figure it out myself. At night I climbed to the roof using one of those drainage pipes that buildings have. As I got to the roof there was a little red door standing on the other side. It wasn’t barred like the main entrance. As I was unbolting the door a sudden dread took over me. I cannot explain what it was, and as I pushed the door inside the terror inside my mind grew even more intense. Yellow lights leaking from the other side of it and a low humming sound. And as the door was getting open wider the bright yellow light blinded me, that low humming sound was now replaced by a loud shrieking noise. Fear paralyzed me, I couldn’t move my legs anymore. I can not recall what I saw on the other side of that door in the bright yellow light. But I woke up covered in sweat and shaken by an unknown fear. I felt that kind of dread after a long time.
Real.
I met him on the 3rd day at our new place. When I first saw this boy he was running around by the swimming pool in a green t-shirt. A daring and equally stupid thing to do, as the pools middle section was filled with very filthy and frog infested water. Yet there he was running around pretending to be a plane and laughing like a deranged fool. When we got near he finished his round and walked up to me and my brother and asked his friend "who are these two idiots?" "They are the new resident on our 3rd floor", his friend and soon to be our friend replied.
He made a strange face towards us and scoffed "ooo dumb city boys hahaha" "BUT CAN YOU DO THIS" and then he made another round about the pool of filthy water. Now it’s tricky because the farthest end was very steep and it was very easy to slip and slide into the water. Now the water itself wasn't very deep. It wasn't even knee height deep, and we were small children so now I think of it, it was very shallow. But the water, oh god it was bloody awful. Smelly and slimy, blackish horrible looking water. I took a few step forward and realized I really don't want to end up in that muck today .so I stopped myself doing something utterly stupid, but my brother was a real sportsman, always up for a challenge. So he too did a circle around that water. Seeing this the boy in green t-shirt said "but can you go even faster". And soon they were running around the poor really fast. Few other boys joined in. watching them I thought, I could too do the same. I took a step closer getting ready to run. And then it happened. I saw the boy in green slip and go diagonally into the water like a freaking tea bag. It was a big splash. Everyone stopped. I saw him laying into that filth neck deep. He slowly dragged himself out of that sludge. His green t-shirt is now a blackish horrible mess. He walked towards me and laughed really loud, he said "my name is Real. I have to go home". And that moment I realized like his name, he was real, a real fucking idiot.
It was only the beginning of Reals dumb face and stupid green t-shirt. I often saw him in that green t-shirt. Probably he loved that awful looking thing. He was maybe two years older than me. Slightly chubby, bowl haircut, built and acted like a goddamn gorilla all the time. He was funny but also a terror among all the children and other small creatures.
One time I saw him crushing an ant hill with his feet, pretending to be a giant. Someone came and started to have a chat with him, and there he stood on the ant hill, talking. Few minutes later when the ants were all over him and biting, he made a very strange noise and dance his way home. Another time in the evening he made a big fire in our playground. I told him not to do that because if security guards in our area see us, we will be in a lot of trouble. He called me a child and told me to shut up. I could just leave, go home. But I didn't. Just wanted to watch the flame, as it consumes everything you put in there. As Real was busy building his fire, in the corner of my eye I saw a khaki dress pant running towards us. I ran forward as fast as I could with my tiny steps leaving Real and his fire behind me, and when I looked back I saw a security guard holding Real by his ear. I didn't see him for a week or so, I think he got in trouble.