Faceless

(Day Four, "Followed")

I apologize for leaving you.

I'm being followed, and sometimes they find me.

Who's they, you might ask?

They are who I've killed.

Mere shadows darting along, formless, expressionless.

They follow me everywhere.

Sometimes I can hear their voices.

Mostly they just tell me how I failed them.

They're right, I think.

I did fail them.

I almost need them echoing their words to remember why I'm doing this.

What am I even doing?

Revenging them?

Where am I going?

They're telling me to go.

"You'll know when you get there," they promise.

Will I, though?

(a pause.)

They visit me almost daily now, especially when I'm thinking about giving up.

It messes with the recorder and fuzzes up the audio.

It probably doesn't help I dropped it in water.

But that sure was clean water.

I can never find clean water.

I'm lucky I haven't been poisoned.

Oh, that reminds me.

I saw a grim today.

You know what grims are, right? Those dog shadows that show something bad is going to happen.

I think I'm going to die soon.

That has to be it.

I feel a sense in the air these days, a real weighted feeling.

It's terribly foreboding.

It mixes with the voices following me.

It's like a storm, all this mixed together, creating my death.

I must hurry with everything else to say.

I don't...

(sniff.)

I don't have too much left.

Two apologies.

Maybe a goodbye, to you.

Not much left....

Not much left...

(end of recording.)