April 16th, The Day It Happened
When the fog first set in, I almost felt homesick. It was comforting, at the start. To be able to look out over the sea of trees and gaze upon that familiar wall of fog and mist. But then it never left. And neither did we. Attempts to leave the campus via the woods resulted in panicked fleeing from the creatures that reside there, and attempting to leave from the main road had even less success. Anyone who ventured out into the fog returned a few minutes later, dazed, lost, and scared. After the first couple of days all it did was make me homesick. And scared.
It was only a deer. Right? Trying to clear my head, get away from the overstimulation of everything, I went for a walk in the woods. I knew they’d been growing like crazy, but just the edge would be fine right? Just as long as I stayed within eyeshot of campus. As soon as I entered the forest I was lost. The trees swallowed me whole, leaving nothing but a sea of brown and green before me. A loud snap sounded from behind me, but when I turned there was nothing there. Turning again, I saw it.
A deer, like the many I’ve seen here before, but something was different. Its eyes were moved, more forward facing. Its antlers seemed more twisted, almost as if they could move. But the strangest, scariest thing was its mouth. The deer’s pelt was matted, coated in blood and viscera. But it’s mouth was the worst. The blood there was fresh, still dripping from the deer’s open maw full of fangs sharp as knives. Whatever this was, it couldn’t have been just a deer.
Gripped with terror, I fled. Running as fast as I could, knowing that I couldn’t possibly outpace the creature. After what seemed like a lifetime, I finally broke through to a clearing. It was gorgeous, coated with dew-covered grass, flowers that glimmer like crystals, and with a brook running through the center as clear as if it was fresh snowmelt. The air itself seemed clean, like I was breathing air untouched by any other lungs. Standing there, amidst this beatific scene, the adrenaline that had been animating me drained out, and I collapsed into a pile of moss.
When I awoke I was back on campus, lying on the ground a few feet from the forest’s edge. I have not yet ventured back in, but something about the clearing is calling. I do not know how much longer I can ignore it.
April 17th-23
I’m so tired. I haven’t been able to sleep at all since this started. Whenever I close my eyes I see a swirling mass of fog. Sometimes shapes form in it, indistinguishable and humanoid, but in a way that feels distinctly wrong. I swear that at night I can hear them laugh.
I remember hearing about some plants that help with insomnia. Maybe there’s some souped-up mutant chamomile growing out in those abominable woods? Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation but a part of me wants to risk the monsters and find some. I could try and search for that clearing I saw before, if beneficial herbs are growing anywhere, they’d likely be there.
It’s been over a week without sleep. Strangely, my body feels awake, maybe even more than it normally is. My mind, however, is fraying. I can feel the edges of my brain unraveling, forming into rope that tugs me outward, towards the forest. I fear I no-longer can resist the call. I only hope what I find saves me rather than hastens my end.
I found the clearing easily. While my previous journey through the woods was fraught with danger, this time I almost felt like the woods were protecting me this time, laying out a path into it’s tangled heart. What I saw when I arrived at the glade I cannot describe. Not due to a willful act of defiance, but rather because I cannot remember. All I can recall is a deep sense of satisfaction and relief, and then I was back on the edge of the forest, my clothes torn and body battered from some unknown source, but my mind at peace. When I close my eyes now, all I see is a serene darkness.
June 2nd-June 9th
There’s something beautiful about the danger of the woods. Something that was once so serene, a source of safety and joy for the people here, being twisted into a state of warped destruction. The deer, once peaceful, friendly cohabitants of this campus are turned against us, ripping flesh asunder and striking fear into our hearts. When I expressed these views to someone, I was told that they were “Concering” and “Did you go in the fog?”
No matter. They don’t understand. How could they? They haven’t seen. Not like I have. When my eyes are closed I can truly look beyond. Gazing into the sky I can look beyond my eyelids and see her face. And she’s beautiful. When I sleep at night I no longer rest, rather I leave behind my body and cavort amongst the sky and the fog and the forest. It is only then, under the blanket of night, that I am truly free.
Unfortunately this never lasts forever and it isn’t long before the night sky fades and wakefulness finds me, opening my eyes and compelling me to rise and seek food. Try as I may, I cannot flee into the realm of the night forever. At least not yet.
June 10-13
I heard some voices in the air during last night’s dance amongst the fog. They were whispering about Olympia and the fog and traveling to here, though details further than that I could not decipher. The morning after I was told that the radio broke through and we had contacted the Olympia fire department and that we are working on a way to get there and aid them. I suppose that there are other survivors out there. I wonder how home is faring. Where is home? That’s odd, I can’t quite seem to remember what home is? Perhaps I left some memories back up there in the sky? Good. That is where they belong. Where I belong
Life is strange here, back down on the ground, amidst the concrete and the people. It doesn’t feel real anymore. Was it ever? I’m no longer sure. Sometimes I feel like every night I lose a piece of myself, like the forest and Fog are eating my memories and my mind. I find that thought strangely comforting. I know that it should worry me, but for some reason it’s reassuring. Maybe someday it will consume all of me and I’ll be able to stay up in the sky forever. That would be nice.
I wonder what will happen to my body, should my mind be set free. Will it simply lay there and join the forest? Perhaps it will be inhabited by some other being, one that will make better use of it than I have. I’d hate for it to go to waste.
June 13-20
I am not me. This body is not mine. These eyes are those of another. These hands are not known to me. These thoughts are from a being other than I. I am not me and I do not exist. These eyes do not belong to me and are the path that opens to another. I do not know who I am but it is not me. This mind is new but this body is old. Sleep I plead with thee, return this mind from whence it came so this body might once again be home to her.
I should not be. This body is wrong. When I close her eyes I can feel what should exist. My form is mercurial, ever-changing. This body is rigid, incapable of the freedom I should have. Free me.
Am I Briar. I have her memories, her personality, I am in her body. Yet I am not her. There is something else behind the eyes, someone who should not be and who never was. Who am I.