Joined: 13 Nov 2003
[Update]Final *whimper* Little-boxes log update
It does well to give closure, so I thought I'd share:
Three nights in my own home, in my own bed, haven’t made any of this easier. No matter what I do, what I try, I can’t leave that little spot in the woods where my life changed forever. I keep trying to accept it all, but that acceptance doesn’t come. So now I find myself going over my notes and over this log in an attempt to let it go and to move on.
I’ll never forget leaning against the car attempting to come to grips with James’ death. It had been two years since I, since anyone, had seen him. When I looked up, I saw his shadow walking up the road. It wasn’t his shadow, it was his son. He looks just like his mother, but his spirit and his stature is that of his dad. I could almost feel James right there. We spoke for a few minutes before I could tell him that his parents had passed away and that they wouldn’t be coming back. He was strong. If I didn’t know better, he already knew in his heart. Yet he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t stop searching, stop hoping.
He was scared. His face, his eyes, they just showed terror and sadness. He was dealing with far more than a kid his age should. I learned that he was in trouble, big trouble. “My friend” watched from the shadows as Jesse and I cried and held each other. I noticed him observing us, almost as scientifically as I had observed him.
When Jesse left, I explained to him the situation. He seemed to understand the nature of Jesse’s troubles and my desire, my need, to help him. We talked about what we could do to protect Jesse from what we can only assume to be “monitors”. He thought that he knew of a way but he didn’t know if he could make it work. I didn’t know the details. I didn’t know that it would be his demise. I told Jesse before we could think it through all the way.
The next morning a man arrived. He was scared, lost, confused. His wife was killed the day before and he believed Jesse to be his son. Ethan was such a sweet man and it broke my heart when I heard him cry out as he learned that Jesse was a friend’s child that he had taken in. He had grabbed onto the hope of Jesse being a connection to his wife and that was broken. It was as if he went through her death all over again.
I couldn’t help. I was too busy with “My Friend”. Too busy watching him struggle over what he had to do. We talked about the ramifications of it all, the power that it would take, the danger that it would bring. He wanted me to leave. I couldn’t. I just had to witness it. I had to know that it worked. I promised to leave as soon as it happened and to never look back. The monitors wouldn’t know about me. As he had explained, they were given one task and they pursued it until it was completed. I was safe.
It was hard packing up knowing that I’d never see any of these people again. “My Friend” had truly become a friend. I enjoyed discussing the nature of man with him. I longed to discuss the nature of machine. I didn’t want to say goodbye. I didn’t want to know that he would be gone by the end of the night. And Jesse, so much of his father. He is truly an amazing child, an amazing young man. James would be so proud. And his friends, all so bright. They had so much of a future, would it all be gone? And Ethan, so lost and so alone. Yet he now had a dozen kids that he seemed to need and they seemed to need him. We all walked into this crazy situation and I was the only one walking out of it. It didn’t seem fair. It didn’t seem right. They all helped me pack, we pretended that the next hour wasn’t going to happen.
But it did. None of us will ever be the same. They are trapped in a world that is not ours. I am trapped in a world that is. And “My Friend”, I can’t let myself think of his fate, because he was most surely destroyed. I miss him. I miss them all.