Journal Entries - The Bugmen
Initially I thought it had been a lucky thing saving this here journal from that abandoned farm house. I didn't know what was in it, but someone had dedicated time to it. That had to mean something.
I acted out of goodwill. I meant no harm. How was I supposed to know what was written within the unassuming brown journal? It's not my fault!
There were chores to do and mouths to feed. Despite my excitement I had forgotten about my early morning find as the day wore on. The moon was half risen before I spied it peeking out at me from beneath a pile of bills.
That thrill of excitement coursed through me. The one that says I shouldn't be doing this. But it was just a notebook! Surely that jittering shooting up from my tailbone was just about it not being my notebook. That's okay. The original owner is probably dead, otherwise they totally abandoned the journal. Free for the grabs. That farm house was falling in on itself and no one knew what had happened.
I took myself and that journal out to our barn so I could read. Give myself some atmosphere away from the mundane. I guess that's what I had been looking for in those days. A way to get away from the mundane. I should have listened to the cows who tried to break away from their stalls. I should have noticed when the cat started eating its own tail.
But I didn't.
I opened the journal. And I began to read.
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"Dear Diary,
It is きょう!
I am thinking about trying to find out where that mud hole in the back yard goes to. Please don't think I'm silly, Diary. I know that this may sound silly after what had happened... well.. before.. but I am just absolutely consumed with curiosity! I know by this point you have probably picked that up. I haven't really spoken much of anything else, have I?
I haven't been able to reach the bottom yet. I have stuck my whole arm in! And nothing! Papa says to stop playing with that mud puddle. He says he is going to fill it up so that way no one trips in it. He thinks it may be connected to one of the new plumber lines, but it smells like normal fresh mud. If it truly was connected to that plumber line thing it would smell like night soil instead.. wouldn't it? That would make more sense to me at least!
Besides, I have to investigate before Papa fills it in! My favorite pebble shaped like a heart is still at the bottom of that puddle and I don't want it to be stuck down there forever. My arm isn't full grown yet so I am sure that if I quick pop in I will hit the bottom quick enough. I know Mama is gonna tan my hide due to the state that me and my clothes will be in, but I hope once she blows off steam she will realize it was for a good cause.
I'll write to you soon as I am all washed up! I can't wait to be able to tell you how deep that puddle truly is. Maybe I should save a little bit to share with you. Mama says that details of life get fuzzy the older you get. Honestly, that makes me feel kinda nervous. So maybe I'll put a little mud on this page to help me remember.
Talk to you soon!"
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"Diary.
It's ずいぶん後で.
I don't know what to write to you. It isn't fair, but I feel like I hate you now. It isn't fair and I'm sorry but I do! You didn't stop me! You didn't stop me and you are thinking that I am still the old me and I'm not! I'm not, I'm not, I'm not!
[tears blur the words]
How can I even write in you now? You hold in you the me that didn't know that mud puddles that aren't mud puddles could just appear. That they don't have bottoms and just keep going deeper and deeper and that the mud gets gluey to where it makes you get stuck? You don't know what it is like to be stuck like a bug while mud keeps sliding over you! And then there are actual bugs that aren't bugs that start crawling all over [tears blur the words].
You don't have to believe me. The angry human faced bugs are real and you don't have them chittering at you. You don't have to live with the knowledge that they are really real. You are --!
I'm back Diary. I had to step away because I just.. I am so angry. And I'm afraid. And I will be honest, I want to burn you. I don't want to look at you who knows the old me. When this is me now. And I will never go back to who I was. And I will always be expecting to see the man-bugs. I won't be putting mud on you. I hate you, but I don't really. I think, I think I hate myself. I hate myself because of my knowledge that nightmares are real and in this world, and I.. just.. dove right in.
I won't burn you, but I need time away from you. Maybe.. forgetting things as I get older won't be the scary thing I thought it would be. I doubt this will ever go away. But, I can't look at you anymore. Dad dove in and saved me before the man-bugs could eat all my toes. My left ring finger is mostly gone. If he didn't save me [tears blur words].
We are moving. I'm going to leave you here. I hope no one finds you, but since you also hold other people's stories I don't think it would be kind to burn their words when I don't know them. And.. maybe it will give me a little happiness to know that the old me still lives somewhere.
Goodbye Diary."
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Ah shit!
The journal got me wrapped up in it and I didn't even notice that that damn lantern was getting low. It started spittin' on the dirt floor. Damn lucky I hadn't been sitting in the hay otherwise I would have gone up with the barn. And I'm sure the county would talk about me for years to come.
I had not expected all that from this journal. At first I thought that young girl was pretty darn sweet. But my guess is that she got in trouble for trying to go diving into mud puddles. And that is why she made up that fool story of bugs with man faces. That is a different kind of sick for sure. It looks as though there is more written up so clearly she didn't hang her hat on the walkin’ away from writing about herself for long. I am curious what she is gettin' up to, but I best be gettin' my way to bed. The farm and family don't wait for nobody afterall. And I stayed up too long reading this.
Tonight I will read a few more pages and see what this little girl is going on about. Maybe I'll find some time to go back to that abandoned farm and see if there is anything else left there.
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"Diary...
It is なんでこんなことに.
I have been thinking of burning you. But I also know that it is not fair to blame you for what I wrote in you. And I don't want people to be mean to me anymore because of what happened to me. So.. Here I am.. I am back.
I should say sorry for how long it has been (can you believe that this is the longest pause we ever had talking to each other?). I should say sorry for telling you my hurtful thoughts and for not turning to you. I just.. I have wanted to forget everything and move on in my life. But I can't. What happened in that stupid fucking freaking mudhole. I have been dreaming about them every night. You know what I am talking about.
I don't want to talk about them because I want to forget them. But I can't forget them because I dream about them. I think I see them still. Sometimes when I am eating I think I am... well.. I think that one of those things was in my food and I am eating! It! Ahh!! How sick is that?!
My life is a living hell. My parents no longer think I am making this up at least. They did for a while. But I think they are starting to believe me. Now that I don't talk about those things they now want me to talk about them! Parents are weird.
I'm pretty sure that the... things... are inside me still. And I hate it. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it! So.. why does it sometimes.. Never mind. I have tried to cut the things out, but no luck so far. The hospital says that I need to be around other people more. So I can be more "social." How stupid life is... I no longer want to be around anymore or anything. But of course when I finally want to be alone on the farm is when my parents are trying to get me out of the house.
I have to go. Dad is taking me with him to the lumberyard. I hope things go okay.. I hate not thinking that things are just going to be okay...
I'll write later, Diary. "
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That young lady certainly does seem to have quite the attitude switch. Ah, I remember those early "blooms" of womanhood. Gives me a good chuckle now looking back at it. I wonder what she's going for here. Says she's moving but no mention of that. Kids. Always off in their own worlds rather than what's going on right in front of 'em.
I wondered how much of this journal was her work. Initially I had just flipped to the middle and found her talking. She mentioned something about other people's words? I admit, I got curious.
That may have been my trouble too. When I began to flip to other stories.
The cows stopped their milk. Cat had gone missing by that point. But I couldn't stop reading. That journal was filled with such strange accountings. Things that couldn't be real. I assumed it must have been a writing project of some sort. Writing with friends type thing.
I was wrong. But I didn't know it then. Then, I thought it just was a way to kill the time. So I kept reading. Urging it to take me away from my responsibilities. I didn't realize how fully it would be in the end.
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"Dear Diary,
Today is 失望.
Well, another thing is wrong. Apparently, we aren't moving. Something about money. I don't know. I don't understand why we aren't getting the hell away from here! Clearly there is something bad - no, evil! Here! In our backyard! I don't know why we can't go stay with family or even a box if it got us away from here. I hate this! I hate this, I hate this! I would run away if I wasn't so afraid.
Dad...
Okay first Diary, I will not continue to keep things from you. I am sure you are probably wondering why it is now "Dad" rather than "Papa." I just.. I am angry with him. And I know, I know. He is the one who saved me so if anything it would make more sense to be mad at Mom. But.. He had said that he was going to fill up the mud puddle. And it wasn't filled and it still isn't filled. I mean, he did try to pour something in the mud and tried to burn it or whatever. And he has placed planks over it. But like, what is in there.. I know about the bugmen of course and I am pretty sure he is also aware. He would have seen them when he saved me. But he hasn't talked about them. And he acted like he didn't know what I was talking about. Like, is he keeping them a secret from himself because he doesn't want to believe in them, or is he not talking about them because there is something more going on. Does he hear them?
Sorry, getting off topic. I am calling him Dad now because I just don't feel that ease that I had with him when he was "Papa."
Oh.. I gotta go. Another doctor appointment. Stay near Diary. And don't tell Dad about any of this, okay?"
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"Diary - its 離人症.
I don't have much time. I need you to listen to me and to not judge me okay. I don't know what I am going to do yet, but I need help thinking through the options that I now know I have and I don't -- can't -- handle it if you judge me for considering all of my options. Okay so here goes.
I was right. The bugmen are here with me. Right now. After I came home from the doctor's appointment I was really upset because the doctor told me that I had nothing physically wrong with me. He barely checked my ears and that was only after I started crying. He didn't believe me when I said that I could hear the bugmen crawling in my room. My mom didn't believe me when I said I could hear the bugmen crawling around in my bed. My Dad just doesn't believe me I think. But I am not crazy!
I came home, like I said, and I ran to my room and started crying. You probably heard me because this was one of those really ugly cries that mess up your face and your hair gets stuck in your snot -- not important right now. I was crying so hard it was hard to breathe. It got so hard that it felt like my throat was closing up and I got scared that I was going to die because I couldn't breathe and then I started coughing. And coughing. And I shit you not Diary! I coughed up a bugman!! Out of my throat!! I of course started screaming. Mom and Dad raced into my room, but Dad got there first and I saw him see the bugman. The bugman saw my Dad, must have heard my Mom because she wasn't but a couple steps behind, and then he ran to the edge of my bed and fell to the floor. I didn't see what happened to him after that 'cause Mom pushed Dad aside and held me close. Dad didn't move until after Mom called to him a few times. He caught my eye and his face got all weird looking. Like, I don't know how to describe it. Like... cottage cheese sick. I tried to tell Mom what had happened but Dad told her to go make us some hot chocolate. She didn't want to go but he told her to go.
It was just us and I didn't know what to think or feel. So I just looked at him and he stared at me. Then real quiet like he asked me what had happened. I was confused because, clearly he also saw what I saw so why aren't we just getting right to how to kill it.
Diary.. I will sum up that night to get us to this night. Dad said he saw nothin'. Mom is still good and kind and swapped rooms with me though Dad didn't like that. It has been a few weeks and I haven't seen or heard anything until tonight. From my pillow I heard my name being said real quiet like. So scared out of my mind I slowly sat up and looked and there it was. The fricking bugman! And he told me that he knows my sister - which I don't have a sister - but..
I gotta go, I will get back to you soon as I can!
-later that evening-
Sorry it is so late, Diary. It is like everything is going wrong all at once. Dad called me down to tell me that Mom had been bad lately (still don't know what that means) and she will have to stay in the basement until she "behaves"??? What is goin' on in my life! I don't know what is going on anymore. It is like the hell that the churchman said when we used to go. I must have died in that mudhole and everything that I think is my life is just the worst case scenario.
I tried to sneak down to the basement to speak to Mom, but the door was locked. I pressed my ear to it so I could try and hear if she was okay. I heard her but... well... it was hard to hear. With the stairs leading down and the door, you know? I must have heard wrong. Because it kind of sounded like Mom was talking to herself switching between her voice and pretending to speak as a little girl. I didn't stay too long because I could hear Dad coming towards us and I did not want to get caught. Not that I wanted to come back to my room either. But there really isn't much of any place to go right now. Outside has bugmen, my room has bugmen, Dad walks around the house all the time now, and Mom is being kept in the basement.
Diary.. would it be evil to ask the bugmen to tell me if Mom is okay? They are small enough that I am sure that they would be able to make it under the door without any issue. I know that they are evil, I can tell at your thinking silence that you think this is a bad idea. But what else can I do? I can't ask Dad because I'm scared that he is workin’ with the bugmen. Oh! Actually... If I start to work with them bugmen, would that place me and Dad on the same side again? And maybe we could together help Mom to get better!
I will ask one of them tonight. I can feel one of them near. Plus I am so curious about this sister that they think I have. Cause I've never had any siblings, but I have always wanted a sister. I am going to try and act like I don't really care about their answer on that though. Because I can be smarter than they think I am. I will not accept a bunch of bugs working together to be a human. I don't know if that could happen, but I am keeping an eye out.
Please think kindly of me, Diary."
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"Oh Diary... surely the end of things is approaching! It is 終了.
I don't know how so many days passed me by.. surely it has only been a couple of days and yet.. when I look to the calendar and check with the trees.. it surely has been longer than that. I am beyond my timeline. My teachers used to make timelines for everything to show us how stuff lined up with other events. History mostly but sometimes in math. And that all made sense... this jumping of time... I wish I had a real life timeline of my life to show me where it all went to...
I... If I did have that timeline chart, and if it acted like the electronic games I have heard of where you could pick a point in the chart and jump to that timeline instead, I probably would jump back to when we last talked. I mean hell, if I was being serious I would jump back to where I found the journal and then just run far, far away! I would never even go near where it was at so I wouldn't even know what I...
Never mind. Flash update so I can get to my problem. I kept trying to talk to Mom through the basement door since Dad locked it tight. For the first few days she just kept talking to herself all quiet like. Dad was gettin' angrier and angrier - hollered at her to shut up. He'd stomp on the ground and threaten to burn the whole house down. I kept begging him to not do that. I don't want Mom to die! And he'd get all mad at me saying I didn't even know who she was. I was sore afraid the bugmen hadn't just made themselves known to him, but had crawled up in him.
But they hadn't. Not at that point. While later I came downstairs with a plan to get that door open no matter what because I just couldn't stand the thought of Mom down there no more. So I went. Dad was pacing out in the front yard like he has been doing most nights. I get to the basement door and I listen for Mom's voice. I don't hear nothin' cept soft panting. I didn't know what to think so I didn't think. I go with my plan. I grabbed the first knife my hands went to in the knife block and started prying at the lock. I hear the panting noise get faster and faster as my own stabbing and prying get faster. I got a small crack like through the door (that was about after I had bent the second knife) and bugs started pouring out of it. POURING!! The little devils crawled up the door and started eating it! And it starts going down as the holes in it get bigger and I'm frozen, not sure on if I should barge through, call out to someone, or just run away. Run far, far away.
Sorry Diary.. not very flash in this flash update, huh?
Well, they got the door all ate up and I slinked down the stairs. Mom was laying down on the floor with this goofy grin on her face. Bugmen were everywhere on her, Diary. I was trying not to look after I saw some popping out from under her skin. I get to her side and she smiles up at me. I don't remember all she said since there was a bugman looking at me from her throat as she talked. But I heard her say "get your Dad" so I just kinda mumbled that I would. Because it made sense. We needed Dad to fix this.
Long story short Diary... Dad wasn't the one I had to look out for... I miss him....
Mom tried to explain that he was with my sister now... but I don't know what that means either... I have to go. I am trying to find a spot in the attic that they haven't crawled to yet.
Diary... if I never write in you again. please let whoever reads this next know that I didn't mean to give my Daddy over to them. I miss my Daddy so much!"
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That was the end. I flipped through that little brown journal frontwards and backwards and I couldn't find anything else. What a horrible place to end! What all did she mean about what was going on with her parents?
I had expected more. I guess.. we all do. I spent the rest of the night starin' at the wall. The candle had burned out long ago. Silence filled the house. It gagged me. What was I supposed to do? What was going to distract me from my thoughts? The day was filled with the same routine with the same people. I can't even remember the last new face I saw, the last new voice I had heard. The animals were so familiar that they didn't offer anything new. Same house. Same smells. Same, same, same!
Morning came and went. The days melted together and my boredom grew. I begged my husband to let us go into town. To go for a two day walk. Something to break the monotony of our lives. He looked at me as if I was the one who was insane. I began to daydream about what it would be like if a mud puddle 'peared right out of the blue like in that little girl's story.
I read all the other stories. I reread all the other stories. I rereread all the other stories. They became dulled and washed out to me. I had a thought. What a stupid, idiotic, damning thought! I thought I would write in it. After all these others all had the same thought. And it ain't like I have much else to do.
So I did. At first I tried. But I couldn't think about anything to write. I tried to twist my mind. I tried to think the worst things that could happen. But it was so hard to think of something outside the routine when everything was so heavily regulated as routine. And I tried to break it, this barrier of protection from the hellspawn of the world. I admit I had been grumblin' to my family. I couldn't stop myself. It became an obsession.
Then. Well.. It was in the evening in the summer after dark. It was still too damn hot.
We were all sitting in the dark together like we did every night. The pounding of nothing to do smashed against my skull. The stars filtered little light through our window. And I.. I started to read the brown journal aloud to my family. I had been keeping it a secret and all cause I didn't want to share it at first. And then I thought maybe it was a thing that shouldn't really be. But that faded in time. And now it was the only thing I could think to do. I figured that one of them may say something that would get my think juices going and I could start on my chapter.
And it worked in a way. I wasn't four paragraphs in when my husband turned back to look at me. His eyes were black and empty. I could see that much even in the shadows. He told the others in a dull, dead voice to get out. And they scurried. Abandoning me. He rose to his feet. He plucked the journal from my fingers and smiled a smile he never smiled before. "Thank you. For your help I will grant you what you want. A chance to see more of the world and to be in my journal."I don't know what happened after that except that the first star explosion of pain wasn't the worst it got. And now I am just writhing here as you read this. Hoping you share this. Past praying but would be that this could be you, and not me