I got to thinking last night after shooting the prior linked video that I don't think I ever introduced myself properly with this blog. Inane thoughts, vague ramblings about a drunken night I doubt I'll ever fully remember... but no proper introduction. I guess this post will be how I do that.
I'm Marcus Jones. I am twenty-one and live in a small town in Indiana. I'm out of the closet, out of shape and always feeling like I'm rapidly running out of time. I study foreign languages, right now focusing on Spanish with future intent to study French and Mandarin. I would love to learn Japanese out of enjoyment of their culture, mostly introduced to me through anime and J-drama viewed online but I don't know how well I'll succeed. I'm a writer but my writing is generally very much garbage. I made a Facebook but only just last night decided to ever use it. I guess I wanted to avoid the bandwagon.
I live with my father in a small duplex, the other half of the house is empty after the tenant passed away. I have two dogs and my biological siblings died before birth. As long as we're being honest, I live through the stereotypical query of the point of getting close to anyone or anything: they either leave or die. However I also recognize mankind is not a solitary beast. The truly solitary become truly beasts. I believe in some new-age type things and some old-age type things. I believe that if the mind can be quieted enough, meditative states are deadly useful. Likewise using guided imagery on them can help, too. I've achieved lucid dreaming but only once while not under the influence of medication. Save for that one time it was always used defensively in the middle of a nightmare. Usually they concern It.
When I was ten I was in my church for a church lock-in. My best friend at the time was the preacher's son and when we played hide and seek that night in the church we broke the rules and hid on the top floor in a small sunday school room together. That night, my friend, Ken, saw something out of the window of the room we were hiding in. He pointed it out to me. It was the outline of a tall man on the edge of the woods behind our church that approached, stopped short of the parking lot and tilted its head up toward us. It was entirely without a face.
We fled downstairs, somehow not injuring ourselves and got split up in the dark church. That night I had my first close encounter with that thing. It was utterly terrifying and it left me unconcious on the church's piano bench. When I woke, despite the fact that every child in the building had been there and saw the same thing I did, no one seemed to believe me. Except maybe Ken, who did not speak in my defense and who stopped talking to me shortly after.
Next was a neighbor girl when I was not yet quite a teenager. I cared about her a lot in that puppy love sort of way. We were playing behind the church because I'd convinced myself it was fine not to be afraid. We did it every day that summer. Then one day it showed itself to me again. It was there, dressed in a suit and tie. It made me physically ill to look at, I remember that. I remember also that she outran me: I was never in very good shape, at all in my life. That night there was a break in at her house. For the next two weeks she refused to speak to me and shortly after she and her family had left without an explanation. The moving trucks must have come in the night.
I think I heard tell that she had moved a state over but I know nothing else about her after that. I moved schools and none of the rumors followed. Trust me, plenty of rumors had started about that day in the woods. I was the class punching bag in a bullying sense, though rarely physical until I would later come out of the closet around age seventeen. Still, I made friends. Brian, Jess, James, Dan, Ian. Through James I met Jon and at a convention a few towns over I met Quinn. It all fell together pretty fast but it fell apart just as fast.
Jess and Dan were the last to encounter it, this thing that had haunted me since I was young. I thought Quinn had never seen it himself, but now I'm not so sure. Even if I was right back then, he's definitely encountered it now.
Brian quickly became determined to fight it and as young teenagers Ian, Brian and I deluded ourselves into believing we could. It did things to us mentally and emotionally. At various times I would watch my friends lose time, days, nights, weeks, on occasion months. Sometimes they would be injured, sometimes not. We never got close to it, it got close to us. It isn't something we can control or physically combat. I say that despite wishing it wasn't true. Quinn tried to help us look for information about this thing but there was so little for such a long time. And then after a period of time... everyone forgot except Brian, Quinn and I. By the time this happened, I was older... I was angry and jaded and I actually hated many of my friends and family.
I'd like to blame that stupidity on this thing messing with my head but the thing was that I, unlike the others, had never been allowed to forget. I could see it at any time, day or night, in my waking hours or in my sleep.
I decided it would be better for Jess, Dan, James, Jon, all of them to forget and be allowed to forget. After all, none of them had ever really helped. Then one night more than a year and a half later, about a full day after Brian had returned from some time overseas, he, Dan, James, Jess and I went camping. It was a dumb decision that I regretted even before we'd lit a campfire because I thought I had seen *It* already. Dan had been unlike himself all night, and the rings under his eyes were nice and thick so we figured he would go to sleep early. Instead he got up and vanished into the woods. We looked for him for hours but no one found anything, no one saw anything.
Brian left some time that night, presumably going to try to find help to find him but stayed gone for a couple of days until he contacted me from a hotel room and told me he'd gotten a couple of pieces of mail he wanted to talk about. I brought my camera, thinking that between this and Dan, all of this was starting again and it was time to get it recorded. The first envelope contained orders for him to deploy, but he couldn't say where or when. The second was photos. Photos of him on his prior mission. Several had been cut or torn, but they were old polaroids.
Brian left and went silent for a long, long time.
Dan had turned up at home with no clear recollection but some sort of a severe chemical burn around his throat. He and Jess remained blissfully ignorant. I continued studying, contacting Quinn who lived out of town and had been trying to set up a network with people who claimed to have seen this thing. I did the school thing and trying to have a life while I waited to hear from Brian. My relationship with Quinn became strained over personal matters.
December of 2010, James and I were hanging out in a public enough place and he was quite simply, taken. I don't know how, I presume there was some sort of violence, but it's rather fuzzy.. Either way we spent some time looking for him and eventually had to give up. One evening days later, I closed my eyes in my bed, fell asleep, and woke up in a completely different room. The walls being paper thin, James and I quickly learned we were neighbors in locked rooms. Our keeper wore a ski mask and worked alone. But he had no special precautions and eventually we saw an opening.
I've told the story of that escape many times before... some hazily, some not so hazily. I'll leave that to you all to remember, no need to reiterate it.
As we left, I heard gunshots. I looked back and saw who was shooting at us and knew Quinn's face very well. I managed to get home but could get no help from the authorities. James turned up dead not long after. Called back by Quinn who told him I was unsafe, Brian showed up at my house.
What exactly happened next, I don't know. Near as we can tell, I was surprised by him and slipped on the ice. I broke my spine, busted my head open. I was stricken with severe retrograde amnesia and parts of my life were lost. A large portion of it was entirely gone, but just bits and pieces of the rest of it. It was so odd that, unaware of the truth, I often fantasized I'd been kidnapped for knowing a secret and had my mind erased of anything relating to it. Now I wonder if Brian and I weren't so alone after all that day, but I'll never know.
Brian left, not wanting to be arrested for being AWOL. He went back to wherever he was on assignment... on assignment to investigate *It* but kept an eye on me.
The rest, as they say, is history. After a few months he started to experience mental and emotional issues, nightmares, night terrors... and so he contacted me, worried that I was in danger. He did it carefully and stealthily and trusted in my love of foreign languages. Unfortunately he trusted the last part too much and it came down to others to teach me what he was trying to tell me.
Life became a duality for months afterward. Things were both right and wrong, facts remained obscured, things I didn't know,t hings Brian told me, things he didn't. At the culmination of it all, he came to confront me and tell me everything and get me to tell him everything. That's when for the first time the thing took me.
Brian's posted in this blog what happened. That says all there is to say about the subject. The car accident was almost certainly not an accident and I don't know what I was going to do. The others were reintroduced to their cluelessness, though Jon still had a dead brother to miss. I continued on in my duality only it was intensified. Sometimes things were clear, sometimes they were not. I would think the painkillers were able to remove enough pain to uncloud my memories but to this day I still don't know if that's what it was.
The rest is FAR MORE recent history and I refuse to recap most of it. I was seeking vengance dressed as justice.
Suffice it to say that Brian did discharge a weapon on me in self defense. Dan was reintroduced to That Thing and Brian has again left the country. Justice or vengeance still on my mind I kept thinking of ways I might still punish Quinn and yet I began to lead a quasi normal life, relying on Ian and Jon and Dan. Dan doesn't talk to me much. Jon only knows so much. Ian has gone through so much. Brian is still gone, and Quinn is off doing whatever he wants. I don't care.
I regret my attitude toward him... but that is the least of my worries.
Now again, for the second time, I've really, truly lost time. A month, after which I was left sore, tired, disgusting and remorseful.
My only clues are the contents of a flash drive I still refuse to look at and the name Willis T. and the phrase, "I walked on the clouds."
I still do not know who Willis T. is or what that phrase might mean. I'm hoping if anyone reads this, they *will* know.
For now, I'm hoping to recapture a life and if I can do that then I can start trying to fix everything, if that is even possible.
Thanks for your time.