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Except I’m not me, and you’re not you.
9/2/16
More dreams. There’s a girl in them.
9/5/16
It’s Lucy Gallows. The girl I dream about on the road.
Ridiculous, right? Getting obsessed with old ghost stories.
Except it doesn’t feel ridiculous. It feels real.
11/7/16
Tttt[]ttt[]
Becca?
Ahcr.p-apsrchusrchu[][]
[Photo: Blurred, dark. Barely distinguishable as a road.]
[Photo: The same road. Clearer. A figure, shadowed. Female.]
Becca?
11/9/16
Lucy?
INTERVIEW
SARA DONOGHUE
May 9, 2017
Sara sits alone at the interview table, staring into the middle distance. She hums softly, a formless tune that collapses in on itself after a dozen notes. Her fingers tap against the table in that familiar, regular rhythm.Note: Camera was left rolling unintentionally between interviews. We do not believe she was aware she was being recorded.
SARA: You want to know about Miranda. I knew that Miranda was dead. I knew—
The tapping stops. She flattens her hand against the table, whimpers. She bends her head over the table, cupping her face in her hands.
SARA: The Liar’s Gate, the Sinner’s Gate, the Blind Man’s Gate. The Gate of Many Doors. The field. The flood. The first in the dark. The second on the road. Then the beast and the field and then—
She slams her hand down on the table, whipping her head up.
SARA: You can’t do this to me! You can’tdo this! You can’t—
She falls suddenly silent. She walks to the door, tries it. Locked. When she speaks again, her voice is calm.
SARA: You can’t keep me in here forever, you know.
Her hand drops from the knob. She turns. Sinks to the ground with a moan. Her fingers catch against the edge of her sleeve, pulling it up to reveal the words written there: REMEMBER YS.
And near the crook of her elbow, hash marks. Three clusters of lines, further grouped, each dash of ink perhaps an inch long. 1-5-1, 1-4-3, 2-5-2.
SARA: One and five and one. One and four and three. Two and five and two. One and five and one. One and four and three. Two and five and two.
