Building 32 Update “Wrapped in Lights”

Community. That is what he said.

I asked what it was I am looking for, and he said community. To belong.

Sometimes I feel like I don't belong anywhere, and sometimes where I thought I belonged, I didn't.

I didn't know when I was going to be visited by The Old Man, but this is...it is the right time.

I saw a body yesterday. She was wrapped in Christmas lights, and seemed to have been cared for shortly before her death. Her hair was washed and her skin was cleaned. She was ready for the end to come.

And I am not.

I wasn't looking for it. I was looking for the Jingle. The creature that woman had wished to stay with her.

For company. But it wasn't there.

Did you ever hear the story of the man who seeks out people in pain?

I've mentioned him.

I am sure of that...

I went in search of one monster,

and was found by another.

She isn't the first body I ever saw.

Mom was the first, the lady with the lights is second.

I was sent a note by the woman, inviting me over for milk and cookies. I was interested to see how she was feeling. I found her in her bedroom, the heat turned off, the lights from the room visible from the bottom of the stairs.

It was a shrine to her.

She left a mark, or perhaps it was just part of the wish.

I called the police, even though I knew there was nothing to be done.

The body was a cold as the house.

I touched the body.

When I got home

Dad was gone.

Instead, he was sitting at the table, like he so often does.

I was tired. I made myself tea.

He declined.

I leaned against the wall and went through the motions.

“It has been years since we last spoke. Tell me, how have you been.”

I was honest.

“I didn't get it all last time. This time, I won't even try.”

He chuckled.

I looked away.

When I looked back he was smiling. He wasn't supposed to be smiling.

He seemed like he was genuinely happy to see me.

“Now at last...the end...two wells of bottomless pain. Soon to depart...what a time to be alive...”

Last time I saw him was almost sixteen years ago. I never told my mom and dad about it. I knew if they found out, they would want to move away, and more than anything I can't do that. I couldn't do that. Not for long. It was shortly after the last time...Before I started taking my medication.

The night after I saw the coven.

When night arrived, I was not ready for it. My room still smelled like them, even if I knew it was in my mind.

My parents were asleep. They were both alive.

He was sitting by my window, in an old chair my mom used when she would read me a story before bed. He was sitting there, looking out the window, his olive green suit and pale skin yellowed under the light of the streetlamps. Through half parted lips he hummed a tune I could not hear, but felt within my bones.

My limbs felt angry. Biting. Clawing.

My rib

Popped out again.

My teeth clenched.

As I could smell them in the room.

He took no notice of it, simply moved the seat closer, as quietly as could be, like the carpet was made of glass. Then he sat down, his black gums framing his teeth in the dark.

“Children are a strange sort...” he mused, in a crackling, whispered rasp. “They are receptacles of the world, but don't have the time yet to let it hold.”

He was close now. They were closer. I could hear it. I could hear the ragged breathing against my neck as I cried as quietly as I could. I gripped the sheets, my vision getting blurry as I pressed my nails into my palms, curled my toes as the smell sat behind me, right out of view. Waiting for me. Waiting for me to listen. To turn around.

I can't

I couldn't.

Hands as cold as a sewer in winter...he gripped my arms, and looked me in the

eyes

“I am going to hurt you” he chuckled.

“The screams come later.”

He was right.

I didn't think it would take sixteen years though.

He was talking to me tonight, but I didn't hear much of it.

I hear bells, the sound of wind chimes. I cannot tell them apart anymore. They run together as a unified whole, mixing together into the most terrible of sounds. My stomach is folding upon itself, and I want so badly to be far away from here.

From me.

Sleigh bells.

Wind Chimes

Not long enough.

Not nearly long enough.

I'll be okay, if I just push through.

I'll be okay.

I want to be alive.

I just feel so sick.

There was a smile on her face. The woman in lights. Her husband and their daughter. Saw them at the station. Daughter was strange. Like Tracy. No. Something different. Couldn't make her out. Feel wrong and sick. And tired. I hear chimes...I don't know from where.

But the bells.

There is something small outside my window.

A thing shriveled and small. It is out there.

It is standing in the woods, ringing the bells in time.

With the sounds of wind chimes.