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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1791498-The-Letter-from-Eiros-M-Valdemar
Rated: E · Short Story · Thriller/Suspense · #1791498
This is an attempt at an H.P.Lovecraft styled short story, enjoy
I am writing this under significant emotional and mental strain so if you are reading this, it is because I have taken my own life, but before you cast your judgment on this act please read on as I am going to explain the reasons leading up to my actions, I only hope god will forgive me and allow me entry into his kingdom.

It all started at the beginning of autumn, the shortening of the days engulfing my secluded village into premature darkness, and causing the forests surrounding to die a slow death, leaf by leaf. It’s around this time that I and the rest of the village stocks up for the coming months as no one and no supply’s ever travel to the small village of Holcombe until around January time, it’s unknown why they do that, maybe just a tradition or just out of fear by the tales of what secrets the forests hide. I have heard the stories and myths before, I just chose to ignore then.

As I mentioned before it was the start of autumn and there was new faces moving into the village, a young family of seven, two adults and five kids (three boys and two girls), no-one ever moved to Holcombe, only move away and never return, everyone in the village was born here and most if not all of them will die here. So with this new family moving in that following morning you can imagine the whispers the days after. They moved next door to me, and I usually keep to myself but curiosity had taken me, so on the seventh day I introduced myself to my neighbours, the young family and found them to be quite irregular, peculiar in a way I just could not for the life of me figure out.

I parted company with the family but not before I mentioned the fact that the village is cut off from any and every adjacent village and all cities, the closest one being over 150 miles away, until January. However a strong feeling of uneasiness overcame me, it wasn’t caused by the family but rather what was to become of the family, it was like I sensed something wrong so before they became aware of my uneasiness I said my goodbyes and was on my way. I wish to god I would have told them.

I distanced myself from the family over the following weeks as each time we met I grew ever fonder of them and with this, the strange uneasiness I felt around them transformed into constant fear, I feared for them but did not know or understand why. As autumn grew into the land and matured I started noticing omens that could have only been sent from the ancient gardens of Babylon loitering around their house, such as a ‘ghastly grim and ancient raven’ and much I marvelled at these creatures, and at times ‘long I stood there wandering, fearing’ what they meant, but I just could not bring myself to tell the family of my fears and discoveries.

The weeks that were leading up to that unearthly day, my nights were spoiled as my dreams turned sour, and nightmares that no living creature should have to imagine corrupted my mind and thoughts leaving me to have self-inflicted insomnia, to the point that the nightmares protruded my sleepless mind causing me to go insane within the terrible intervals of these day-mares, it was all I thought about, all I could think about, my emotions ever changing like the seasons, at times bursting into uncontrollable laughter which inevitably all ways lead to uncontrollable crying, it was taking over my life and yet I still could not come up with the courage to tell the family, that is why it’s my fault.

With each waking moment the thoughts and images from the day-mares left me in a cold sweat and my heart beating uncontrollably to the point where I was exhausted and with my body craving sleep I began to drift off in unconventional places such as in the car when I was driving, eventually it was foreseeable, one night it happen and it started with a blink then I was in a deep sleep, left to the mercy of the muse of my mind where she had her wicked way with me, torturing me at great lengths while controlling me, keeping me in an state of unconsciousness unable to wake myself up, I imagine this is what hell is like, and when she lets me wake I am in a state of depression and this is when the thoughts of suicide first started but I reminded myself of the beauty of the world, of life and reassured myself that these thoughts and fears will pass and that they could not get any worse, ooh how wrong I was.

I woken to the treacherous beating of my heart, I opened my eyes and the only light that I could see was from the gibbous crescent moon, and for a minute the only thing I could hear was my own breathing, it was as if time had stopped and for what seemed like an eternity until a scream pierced the silence like a knife would the flesh, echoing in my soul, bouncing off my heart, stealing my sense of serenity, something which I have not felt in a while, I knew who the scream belong to, I have dreamt this nightmare countless times before and knew how it ended, it was out of my or anybodies control. My eyes started to cry, but I felt relieved and it was that which scared me the most, it was as if this evil had tainted my soul slowly turning it black like the night sky.

I stood at the opening to the forest and could hear the shouts coming from the other six members of the family, my first thought was that of the day it was, it was the 9th December the 40th day of autumn, I quickly put this out of my mind and entered the forest. I had only been in there for 15 minutes but it felt like hours, the voices of the other members of the family faded like my hopes over the past weeks, I started to slow down out of breath and stopped for a brief moment and that’s when I saw it, an image that’s burnt into my mind’s eye, I cannot imagine out of what crypt or abyss that crept from, I gasped for breath as it turned to the direction that I was stood, its faceless face just there as if it was looking at me, looking into my soul, what I saw then turned me into a quivering wreck, something I am unable to scratch from out of my mind, with every waking moment and second of sleep I see that night and that horrifying image, I cannot bring myself to place my burden on to your shoulder, that is why I am ending this letter here, the people at the asylum try to extract it from me but I consider it essential to maintain my first thought for I am more than aware of how it sounds and understand that they could not believe, they question my sanity as there is no records of anyone moving to Holcombe for over thirty five years, me, and still I suffer from day-mares, the muse controlling my very existence, replaying the events of that night every time I close my eyes. I tried to understand why me and what significance the 9th December or the 40th day of autumn has but it only adds to the hurting that I feel, if only I would of told that family my fears, that’s if the family even existed at all, but I know I am not insane, am I.

I am unable to switch off my mind, I am a prisoner of my own existence, so as you can imagine my life has spiralled out of control and I cannot take this knowledge I have no longer, life is a burden to me and for this reason and the ones mentioned above I am going to end my suffering, may god have mercy on my soul.
© Copyright 2011 Chrissy A.Poe (chrissy_a_poe at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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