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My son died yesterday, on an autumn evening, when the wind blew hard and the leaves hid from the first cold. The ambulance arrived too late. Since then, silence scratches my mind. But the worst thing was the wait every night, when he returned.

I remember that first day… I was out of the house and went to the convenience store. There was always an advertisement on the window and there was this one poster everywhere. I took a good look at it, not really understanding it but it had fun, colorful, goofy characters and a box below it. I decided I’d look at it after getting snacks, I came out of the store and had a sudden feeling of dread reaching for the box but I didn't mind it. I picked up the box and brought it home to look at, I…

I still don't know why my father drove away before sunrise. For years, I believed that was the part of the story that would never make sense to me. I was wrong. I was too young to understand it then, and every time I asked my parents about that morning, they either laughed it off or admitted they couldn't remember it at all. Sometimes I wonder if forgetting is easier than remembering.

In the blood-warm waters of dream There is a place A forest. In the center, a calm, frozen stream gleams in the moonlight Tall trees stand infinitely on all sides You cannot leave You have no desire to. It is dark Blurred streaks of blues and greens run seamlessly through the forest You know that there is a reason For this imprisonment each night The forest wants something from you. A thick silence Gentle wind softly brushes your face Leaves bristle in anticipation

When I was young, we were left unattended. My friends and I rode our bikes deep into the fields and returned at our leisure. We rarely played in the same location and often ditched it after a few days. With each new adventure, we drifted further from civilization, and one day, we struck gold, figuratively speaking of course.

Two years ago my family and I left Earth on an experimental mission.

I am not going to talk about myself much and will just go straight into my story. I will keep my name brief; my name is Dennis, and I am nothing special. Now, with that out of the way, I will get to my story.

I wandered through the stalls a bit, trying to use my map to figure out where I was, and the quickest way to get to the lake. The way I saw it, I wouldn’t have to struggle as much to put the candle out since it would already be surrounded by water, but first, I’d have to actually navigate my way to the lake.

There was a sound, once, in Black Hollow that wasn’t made by men. Before the pickaxes and drills, before the coal trains and dead canaries before the mountain was stripped naked and hung with wires there was something else. The old ones called it “The Hollowing,” a word whispered by toothless women by firelight. They said it came when the ground was too deep, the hunger too great. Not a cave-in or gas, not even hell. Something worse.

“I think we should get a fifth cat,” my wife, Mabel, told me. I looked at her, amused, as we are both cat people. We have four cats: Taco, a tortoiseshell-colored cat; Ginger, a brown cat; Gadget, a black Bombay cat; and Pingu, a black-and-white-colored kitten.

I wake with searing pain in my right arm. My left feels fine. My left hand tightly clutches my bedsheets and duvet. I squint in the silvery moonlight that flows from my white four-paned Georgian bedroom window. I can’t see much. Just the blur of the moon. I blink. My eyes are watery. My internal clock tells me it’s the early hours of the morning, but it isn’t always reliable. I feel pain. But it is feels dull, numb and distant. I breathe in. The air feels clean and pure at least.

I have a fear of heights. My fear is... quite recent and it’s only affected me now. I’m sure that by the end of my little story you’ll find my new found fear quite rational. When I was younger I would love to shimmy up trees or climb up small hills. I liked to explore outside a lot.

I want to start by saying that if you’re someone who thinks the beta of Luigi’s Mansion is better than the final game, you are wrong. This is a bold statement, but the beta is complete garbage. How do I know this? I worked as a game developer and assistant during the process.

If I could travel back in time, I would have changed a lot of things. Would you? I wouldn't just do better at everything or undo certain mistakes, I would probably become your friend. Do you remember, when we were little, that we actually lived quite close to each other? Y'know when you're born here you just don't seem willing to leave. All the locals have this problem. Well anyway, your house was just a couple of streets away from mine.

Up and up the rough-hewn steps tramp the wormy feet of countless dark denizens. They move in silence through the earth's bowels with a singular purpose. Stirred from restless sleep and unholy dreams. Stirred from aimless wriggling and horrid scavenging. Stirred by the voice of their beloved mother, vast and terrible. She bids them rise, and rise they do. None shall disobey their doting matriarch. And so, they rise the ancient steps and forgotten causeways. Passing through slimy tunnels filled…

“Time is a flat circle.” — Friedrich Nietzsche — - I hadn’t laughed like that in a long time. The van rattled as we bounced down the narrow gravel road, overgrown branches tapping the sides. Lexi was already filming everything with her phone, narrating in a mock-documentary voice: “Five survivors return to the place where all went wrong.” Jared howled in response, always being the loud one, and Elise shook her head, grinning, the wind tangling her curls.

The game was almost over, but things didn't get easier. I knew that the Rot wouldn’t let me win this. I had to plan ahead. I could tell that judging from the last 2, the final candles would both be in one of the main areas of the park: the circus, and the rides in the center of the grounds.

I hope this message finds you well. I want to apologize for all the stress I’ve caused these past few months, and the least I can do is explain why I had to leave so abruptly. I do understand if this is a huge red flag to you seeing we’ve only been dating for eight months now. Here goes nothing.

I think Captain Gold is worried that I'm losing it. Sometimes I think I might be. I haven’t seen Marty for days. He was supposed to meet me at the Larrabee last night, but never showed. I’m starting to get very concerned. Casey is gone. I think I lost her a long time ago, but now she’s gone for good. It occurs to me that I’m jumping ahead of myself. I need to stop and recollect my thoughts. There’s a lot I don’t remember, and even more that I do, but it might not be true.

After discovering the lost episode of Gilligan’s Island, I started thinking about finding an episode of another favorite show of mine, The Three Stooges. According to a source I found, the episode was called Ghost Encounters. It was supposed to be shown in movie theaters and on television (as episodes were being aired on TV as well and released on DVD, of course). This episode was cut for being disturbing, but before you roll your eyes and think I’m going to talk about characters dying in…