THE JOURNAL OF LUCAS BROWN. PART 3

March 27th, 2001

The dancing stops so infrequently.

It waits quietly for a moment for any slight movement for it to pounce on or bounce off of. I try to stay still, lying flat on my back with my arms at my sides and regulating my intake of air until my breath is as shallow as possible.

Still, it doesn’t work. So I have to get up, try to walk through the dizzying cacophony it spills as it surrounds me with what feels like malicious intent, it wants to corrode my senses, to make my mind collapse in on itself.

I can’t help but think there is a connection between this phenomenon and the latest development that has occurred within the confines of this room.

It sounds impossible, but I am quite sure that the package I was delivered has grown.

On the desk where I placed it right after signing my name and inheriting its existence it waited for me to glance upon it again. It looks bigger, not by much, but it definitely is larger.

There is no return address on the package and the characters that make up what is supposed to be my name are barely legible, faint as if the pen was running low on ink and scrawled as if the hand that parted with them was unable to guide it steadily.

I will keep an eye on it.


March 28th, 2001

My experiment begins now.

I have to answer the call of certain necessities, namely going to the bathroom. I tiptoe as silently as possible, making sure the door is left open after every visit as to not awaken the groaning call of the rusted hinges. The toilet itself is becoming full with my waste, I refuse to deal with what I know will come with the noise of using the flush. My standards of living have been violated by this faceless intruder. No, that doesn’t make sense. I can’t rightly say it is faceless, or bodyless or that is does indeed have a face or a body or even a shape. I can’t fathom a word at this moment for what it feels like, I just know that it is there.

After my last visit to the bathroom I glanced over at the package again. This time, its shift in size was undeniable, it had expanded at least 3 inches since I lay quietly observing its behavior from my bed.

Back to my experiment.

I have chosen to prove to myself that the package is in fact growing, that my eyes are not to blame for this inexplicable metamorphosis. I have placed it in one of the drawers in my wardrobe. The ordeal this caused was awful but necessary if I am to prove this point. I closed my eyes and forced myself to follow through with it. I am sure I nearly lost consciousness, but I managed to open my eyes and do what I intended to. When I entered it, the package took up approximately half of the drawer. I will check in intervals of 2 hours for changes.

The clock next to my bed tells me it is 4 am. Sleep is out of the question, there must be a purpose or discoverable reason to this.

I need to know what it is.