My name is Grace Rose. This is my story. First, I must mention, I am not sure how the Fog came to be. But I have heard rumors about how the Fog started a long time ago. Whispers from the shadows that it was created in a different world, a lifetime away. It was indestructible and it only came as it was needed. Each case was different, yet everything was the same. I must give it credit though; it was a sneaky beast. Between those calls from the shadows and my experiences, I have learned the Fog masked the world's pain, allowing those who saw sadness and truth a way to only see that of which they wished to see. It obscured the misfortunes of those who were struggling inside until they no longer experienced the emotional fight which once allowed them to understand how to overcome. It sought out souls that were on the brink of destruction and it saved them from themselves. It hid their pain and fogged their minds making them stronger. Or at least that is what they believed...that they were stronger. But it was too strong, too much for people to take and over time the destruction of such power started to show across our worlds. Or so the stories go. You see sometimes all that was left was too far gone to ever tell the story of how they lost a fight that was never fought.
Let us start from when I was younger, before the Fog I speak about became a substance that I clung to for dear life. Growing-up from infancy to your first few years in school, friendships seem easy to obtain, and just as easy to keep. All you have to do is walk up to someone and say "Hi, I'm Grace." and BAM you have a friend! I held on to friendships, with a few bumps in the road for years until my whole world was turned upside down and the truth about how much bigger it really, was outside of my little town, came to the forefront. The key for me, or the downfall, depends on which way you look at it, is knowing the Fog surrounds us throughout life. Yet most of the time it goes unnoticed until you desperately need its cover. Sometimes depending on your age, it comes in the form of an imaginary friend. Which I can attest I have had a few throughout the years. Some more friendly than others and some just dead scary. With every life altering moment or drastic decision I seemed to gain a new imaginary friend.
When I was younger, I lived in a neighborhood which had kids in almost every house on the block. There was never a shortage of children to play outdoors with, parents weren't hovering all the time, allowing our imaginations to be freed. I must say our imaginations were used constantly growing up, it was a must in order to have fun without electronics or the ability to stay indoors and watch TV. But with freedom rains-down those who seek to cause harm and when darkness fell it was a whole other level of imagination. See when the streetlights come on the children headed inside to the safety of the lights leaving the shadows to come out and play. You might ask, weren't they always there? To that I will say as the sun rises in the sky each day the shadows go back into hiding, watching us from the corners where the sun never dares to reach, just waiting for that sun to set once again so they may continue their games. I found from personal experience their favorite games started when a straggler is caught outside after dark, those shadows I speak of aren't all just shapeless blobs they are the scary story book characters which came to life and invaded our nightmares. How do they come to be you may ask? Well, with each nightmare we wake from comes a story book character in which escapes our imagination as we sleep, once we wake, they usually disappear. But for those few which manage to get away they end up in the shadows just waiting for night to fall once again. For some children, once those characters escaped your nightmares you became trapped in their world, without anyone knowing the truth behind how you disappeared. One of two of these imaginary friends found their way into my world.
Do you need proof? This memory, or story as those nonbelievers may call it, started before the streetlights came on and became louder the moment the clock struck eight. I was walking to my friend's house while the sun was high, way before the streetlights came to mind, as I always do. While I am walking, I hear the sound of jangling keys, now with my imagination it is easy to make me jump, but in the light of day the feeling of unease goes away pretty fast. I see the sound was nothing more than wind-chimes blowing in the wind on one of the porches on the block and from what I could see from my vantage point, that was really all there was. Nothing strange going on there, so I just kept walking as if I heard nothing. Of course, the non-threatening sound of wind-chimes leaves my mind completely once I get to my friends and we get lost in the land of make-believe and a side of her older brother. Nevertheless, once it was time to head home, which is usually around a half hour before the sun goes down. But this particular day I noticed the sun seemed to be going down faster than I thought it normally should have. I was only halfway home when the streetlights came on, this is strange on its own. The one rule when you are a child outdoors alone is BE INSIDE when the streetlights come on or you are in for it.
The part of this story that brought bumps to my skin, as I walked home alone, was when I heard those windchimes sound again, but this time there was no wind. Now don't get me wrong this could have all been my mind playing games with me seeing I was stupid enough to get caught outdoors after the streetlights came on and the shadows always look threatening when you are alone and it is dark, but the further away from those chimes I walk, the sound steadily becomes louder, it was as if the chimes were floating behind me. I didn't stop walking as the streetlights shone above me, casting shadows on the most innocent things making them look scary, instead I just kept going, picking up speed as I went faster and faster with each step I took, without truly running. As I went, I noticed little things that seemed different in the dark than they do in the sunlight, which only made my mind race and my imagination kick in full blast, a movement from the corner of my sight, yet when I turn my head nothing is there. Eyes glowing within a rustling bush near the side of a house, the sound of footsteps echoing around me, yet no one is there and then there was a bike bell tinkering as I felt a gust of wind blow my hair forward. I looked around for something that could force my mind into thinking what I was hearing was cause by something real, then I saw her, walking away from me her hands wrapped around her thin body, her hair obscuring her face. She wasn't paying attention to anything around her, I wanted to shout get home. But if I did, I would have to admit I believed these stories about the shadows coming out at night. This would be my undoing, admitting they were real when I, too, was not safely at home.
I forced myself to keep walking. I was so close to home, just one more turn, as I walked into a wind gust forcing my hair to fly sideways, toward the girl I just saw, as I heard a voice calling "Come to me little girl", but no one passed. I closed my eyes telling myself over and over again "it is not real; it is not real." Because if you believe it to be real then they will get you. I opened my eyes to the sight of my house. A breathed a sigh of relief, I felt the urge to run I could feel the need to get home strengthening my resolve, right before I gave in, I heard a scream, I turned toward the girl and in a blink of an eye she was gone in a puff of darkness and I ran for it. Last look back into the night as I reached my side door, heart pounding, mine swirling, my eyes landed on a shadow with outstretched arms, that was close enough to grab me yet as I pushed the door open, the light from the hall filled the void around me, and it disappeared as if it didn't exist to begin with. Finally, I was safe and free from the shadows.
You would think those scary story book characters would leave me once I was safely, inside right? Wrong. Nine o'clock, time for bed my head still spinning from that girl disappearing into the darkness, trying to come up with a logic explanation as to what I saw, not truly being what I thought I did. As I climb into bed, mind you I am on the top bunk making the monster under the bed nonexistent right? I covered up with my blanket and went to sleep that night with my teddy bear, like I always do. Sometime in the night I felt it, the pull on my arm. I wake up my heart pounding, the hair on my arm raised, my sibling breathing steadily on the bed below me and I am looking around my room in the dark wondering who touched me, unable to see anything until my eyes adjusted to the nonexistent light. After my heart stopped trying to escape my chest I lay back down, find my teddy bear again so I could hold him in front of me as I scooted myself closer to the safety rail further from the wall. I still did not trust that whatever woke me up to not come back and try again. Gratefully nothing else happened that night. Don't let that breath of relief out yet though. As soon as I woke to the dark that night, I doomed myself. I didn't forget about what happened outside as I walked home, mixed with this sudden feeling of someone pulling me and the clear view of the small handprint on my arm, and the scratch left on my calf, barely noticeable unless you knew what you were looking for. Nevertheless, still there confirming that what woke me wasn't just my imagination running wild, but a storybook character which came to life. Because I woke with such a fright, I doomed myself. Each night after that I placed my stuffed animals against the wall covering the crack between the bed and the wall to guard me while I slept. With my trusted bear in hand, I went to sleep each night, making sure never to let go of him. He was my anchor, a way for me to keep myself from being taken as I slept, at least this is what I believed to be true. The monster under the bed is real as long as you believe it to be so. Each time that space between the wall and bed was uncovered and my trusty anchor was out of my embrace, that pull on my arm came back; this lasted for weeks after I was caught out after the streetlights come on, random marks upon my skin, visible only to my eyes, but never was I taken. This you would think would make me realize it was all in my head, but I didn't need to be taken in order for the nightmares to get me though, they took me plenty of places on their own, without physically leaving my bed, I still traveled to places you would never want to see, at least not at that age and not by choice.
Then one night, as I woke once again to something grabbing onto my arm, there she was sitting on the bench near my window, arms wrapped around her thin frame, hair obscuring her face, as she looked out into the night. The girl from the milk carton, I didn't need to see her face to know it was her...
The lesson to be learned here. Just because you are older now and do not fear the shadows, do not discredit those who still believe in the story book characters coming to life. You never know, if they still believe, then those characters are brought to life even if you can't see them yourself. You may even find yourself witnessing a victim as you wake with a start, from your sleep one night. They could be standing in the darkness staring out your window, before you fully wake, they disappear. Once again, creating a ripple large enough for a story book characters to escape or even maybe one child they nabbed in the dark to escape through.
But I found a way after years of being scared of the monster under the bed, or the one in the closet, or even the one lurking under the basement stairs, that I, too, could hide myself from them as they hide themselves from me.
Want to know the secret? I would love to tell you...but I can't. See in order for this magic to work you must discover it yourself. But now you at least have a reason to believe there is always a way to trick those monsters, no matter what your age may be.