I am not going to relate much of my day today, except from my notes on the tapes… I need to say though, that I had nightmares again, the same kind as before, and I am getting sick of it, despite my resolution to rationalise a reasoning.
I wish my brain would just switch off and let me sleep in peace. So, now, I am annoyed and short-tempered.
I am almost tempted to listen to the rest of the tapes in one sitting, get that over with, but I want to respect Dad’s wishes on the matter. And something tells me it is not a good idea anyways, so… One at a time it is… I fish out the tape labelled ‘Oct 25th 1949’ from the pile on my desk. I press play.
As you heard, it is a windy day, that day, at the Westerly estate; the sound of it in the recording is unsettling. As I focus on listening, Dad knocks at my door and I just bark out:
"Not now, Dad!"
I catch myself, and go to open the door. He looks as surprised as I am with my outburst.
I never raise my voice, especially not towards Dad. I mumble an apology and he nods. He just asks what I want for dinner tonight. I tell him not to worry about it, that I will take care of it. He says he wants to do it. My nerves are very short and I cannot control the frustrated tone in my voice when I say:
"Fine, do whatever. I don’t think I’ll be too hungry anyways."
He nods again, turns around, and heads for the stairs. I feel guilty for my impatience. I’m just under-slept. I guess the whole story is getting to me after all. But I am not one to quit. I’m stubborn that way, it’s a family trait, I suppose. I turn back to the tapes. As you heard, Uncle Phil is relating his third day with the vision. He says nothing has improved, quite the contrary. He describes his horror when he watched as his wife arranged her hair in the mirror and did not notice the bestial version of her husband in the reflection!
Even more disturbing, Uncle Phil noticed, is that she, herself, did not have her own reflection in the mirror, even though she was acting as if she definitely could see herself. With that daunting realisation, he decided to keep anybody from approaching the mirror.
He truly believed that the problem came from the mirror, and not his fractured mind. Another noteworthy detail is that his reflection seemed very happy with itself and the effect it had on Uncle Phil. He says:
"He snarled in triumph at me."
If I maintain that this is a reflection of his own mental instability, I do not actually know the meaning of that specific detail. Is Uncle Phil being tortured and toyed with, by his own mind? That is definitely what I suspect. It is the most sensible explanation. But I cannot begin to understand the logic of his psyche. I've always loved horror and psychological thrillers. They’re my favorite genres in literature and cinema. I never get scared or uneasy. I actually used to pride myself in being the tough one, when watching horror movies all night, or sharing scary stories while camping; sitting in front of the fire, only darkness surrounding us, skewered marshmallows in hand. I had always been the stoic one, and my stories, the creepiest. But...
I cannot explain why this is getting to me, more than I care to admit.
Is it because it happened in the family? Knowing that he was never found, and the obsession it created in my dad, granddad and Granny Faith. From what I've read, my Aunt Constance's search for the truth was never satisfied.
At least in movies and novels, you do get some closure, and you know that it is only fiction. But here, it is all too real.
Again, I am not saying I believe anything paranormal happened to Uncle Phil, but he certainly believed it himself, and that sent him spiraling.
I guess... that's what makes me so unhinged?
Next instalment 26th October
The Westerly Tapes is a Halloween Horror by Julia Mersobian and Nathan Schulz, for The Drama Merchant, based on the short story by Paul Compton.
The voice of Westerly is performed by Kent Lee
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