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Sunday, February 6, 2011

Dead, dead, DEAD!



Night flower,

Since one picture of Hugh Jackman is never enough, and I loved your suggestion so much...

As for the other ideas, I am planning to make some offerings to my dream catcher. A few crystals, and maybe a sacrificial lamb or two, will hopefully sate it’s bloodlust for a little while – I don’t think I can handle being eaten by another dinosaur. Palaeontologists say the T. Rex had a brain the size of a peanut, and yet, it always finds me hiding underneath the bed. How it even fits into my house is a whole other matter...

So, I have a real life horror story for you. It happened to me yesterday. I was home alone, writing merrily away on my computer, and melting slowly into a puddle on account of how hot it’s been. I whipped out my iPod to play some music and decided on Blue October’s song ‘Hate Me’. A song you would know well, since you recommended it to me. It was so quiet that when I pressed play I heard all these little voices come pouring out of my iPod. Tiny, little children’s voices. I’d never heard it before and put it close to my ear. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, until they started chanting; “dead, dead, dead!”

I had a heart attack, pressed the stop button, and had to resist throwing my iPod across the room. Visions of Japanese horror movies where the technology is always used for evil swarmed me. That little girl from the Ring was going to come and get me.

Panicking, I forced myself to listen to it again, and again, and again. Until finally, those little voices weren’t saying dead, dead, dead anymore. I still didn’t trust it, but figured I’d imagined it – if my nightmares aren’t enough of a giveaway, I have a weird imagination.

Then...the entire house blacked out! Every light, all my fans! It was so hot and dank, and there was this putrid smell in the air. You have never seen anymore move as fast as I did to get outside. All my years of horror stories has taught me – sunlight good, dark houses bad. I stayed outside, horrified for at least an hour, until my family came home.

In the aftermath the accepted reality is that I imagined the song, lightening struck the power station during the storm and blacked my suburb out, and the smell was the chicken leftovers in the bin... As a girl who believes in fairies, I’m left wondering if it wasn’t something more sinister than that.

I’ll let you decide what the real truth is.

Always,
Poppy

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