Horror

The Amnesia Tapes

My parents always tell me the stories about my
childhood that, for some odd reason, I cannot recall.
Stories about how I used to have a imaginary friend
named Bilbo who supposedly, according to my
childhood self, lived in the walls with his pet snake
Axel. Wherever the hell I came up with this, I have no
idea, but apparently I spent a lot of time with Bilbo
and Axel, because my parents always tend to bring it
up whenever I visit them.
I decided that I'd go on a little vacation over the week
of Christmas in 2009. Having been working in
Manhattan in the business world making a lot of
money and being a part of the upper middle class for
the past several years I decided I'd take a break from
it all and stay at my childhood home in Pennsylvania.
By the twenty-second of December, I had made it to
my parents' house where they immediately brought
me up to my old room.
The moment I entered the room a chill went down my
spine, but not because of a weird, supernatural, or
unpleasant feeling, mainly just a nostalgic chill,
which was odd considering I didn't remember the
room at all. I could barely remember anything from my
childhood years. I can only remember back to being a
teenager, which was the time I was sent to live with
my aunt because of my bipolar disorder which my
parents couldn't handle anymore, but since I have
that all taken care of now, it's nothing to worry about.
Aunt Janice was coming over for dinner at my
parents' house tonight, so I could see her for the first
time in nearly four years. I won't lie, I did feel a little
emotional thinking about how I barely ever saw my
old, aging, lovable relatives anymore since I got the
job in Manhattan, but my personal life was going
good, despite my so-so love life. I was seeing a girl
named Amanda around this time, but we hadn't seen
each other in a few weeks due to her having to fly out
to California to attend her uncle's funeral.
A roast was tonight's meal, specially cooked by my
mother. Another small thing I remember from my
childhood somehow: my mother's cooking, giving a
true meaning to the old saying "Just like Mom used
to make". I wish Amanda could cook like that. At the
dinner table, Aunt Janice told me some humorous
stories of my childhood and events at the house,
mainly from holidays and other family gatherings.
Sadly, I couldn't remember anything from these
events, but they were humorous and entertaining to
hear.
After dinner, Aunt Janice had to leave so I kissed her
on the cheek and she left. She still looked good
despite her growing age, now being well into her
early 70's. It put a smile on my face to see her, which
gave me a remembrance of my pleasant teenage years
living at her home in Pittsburgh. She now lives close
to my parents' house since her husband, my uncle
George, passed a few years ago.
At around 11 PM, my parents went off to bed and told
me I could stay up and do whatever I wanted as long
as I kept the noise down. I decided to go into my old
bedroom and watch some television for a bit until I
got tired, so I did just that, flicking through the
channels to find practically nothing entertaining. I
ended up just having a look around my old room.
I opened up the closet and found the typical objects
you'd find in a young boy's closet: action figures,
Lego, coloring books, all the good, fun stuff. What
caught my eye was a brown cardboard box in the
back of the closet, obscured by a pile of child's
clothing. I dug through the clothing and took the
dusty box out, opening it up to reveal several VHS
tapes, about six of them, all labeled with numbers
that were crudely drawn on with crayon, in the
handwriting of a small child.
At the bottom of the box I found a folded piece of
paper that was torn from a notebook. I took the paper
and unfolded it to find, written again in crayon, "The
Adventures of Bilbo and Axel". I recognized the
names as being those of my imaginary friend and his
pet snake. I found this extremely interesting and
possibly could help me remember my childhood.
Luckily in my room there was a VCR hooked up to the
TV, that hadn't been used in probably ten years.
Digging through the tapes, I dug out the one labeled
"#1", and put it into the VCR. The VCR spit out the
tape a few times, but after the third or fourth time it
finally popped in and started to play. There was just
some static mess for about thirty seconds until finally
it came on: a very young me standing in the middle of
the same room I was in, which was in exactly the
same condition. I was just sitting, with my head in
my hands, in the middle of the room, facing the wall
and muttering incomprehensible blabber.
I figured I was playing hide-and-go-seek or
something of that sort, so I didn't think of it as
strange at first. After about two minutes of the
blabbering, I began to get concerned since the
younger version of me got a tad bit louder, but it was
still incomprehensible and almost like gibberish. The
sound completely cut out and the quality started to
get really choppy, and the colors started to distort,
and I could hear faint whispering playing over the
tape.
I put the volume a bit louder so I could make out this
whispery sound, but suddenly an ear-shattering
shriek came from the tape and the static turned to
extremely loud white noise. I shot up and ran over
the VCR to eject the tape, but of course the VCR ate
the tape, completely destroying it. I looked in the box
to get the second tape, and found it conveniently on
the top of the pile, the "#2" written on it with red
crayon.
This tape began like the last. When it finally came in,
there was absolutely no sound at all. It seemed to be
a continuation of the last, but I was now faced in the
other direction, actually looking at the camera, and
my head was no longer in the shoulders. My eyes had
deep black rings around them, and I looked
exhausted, scared, and extremely tired. The
whispering came in again, but louder and more clearer
than before. I could faintly make out, to my horror, a
name being said in the whispers: "Patrick". My name.
The tape ejected fast out of the VCR on its own,
behind it a string of magnetic tape shooting out and
twisting and snapping. I won't deny the fact that I
was nearly pissing my pants at this point. I didn't feel
like this house was normal at all. That these walls
literally could talk, and that I had locked my
childhood away in my mind for a reason. Was this
also the cause of my teenage bipolar disorder?
I grabbed the box of tapes and ran outside to my car,
not even saying goodbye to my sleeping parents, and
drove off. I was tired, but I had to get out of that
house. I drove off to Aunt Janice's house and told her
everything, showing her the box of tapes. Her smiling
face turned into a blank stare, looking almost
frightened, and nervous. She told me to sit down and
relax, and she sat next to me, holding my hand in
hers, and told me the truth behind it all: the tapes
were actually a psychiatrist's test of my actions due
to a demonic possession that occurred in my
childhood. An exorcism was performed which nearly
killed me, and when the demon left my body I had
experienced amnesia, and thus was the reason why I
was sent to live with Aunt Janice in the first place.
I ended up returning back to Manhattan, and by the
next Autumn, Amanda and I were married. I didn't
invite or tell any of my family members about the
wedding and I haven't seen my parents or Aunt
Janice since that night on December 22, 2009. I still
have the remaining tapes with me, but am still too
scared to watch them all. All that I do know is that a
demon is still lurking within the walls of that house.