I think I died 17 years ago.

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height


I think I died 17 years ago. Specifically I think I died on 9/11 2001. No, not in the hell that was the terrorist attacks, but from somthing not entirely unrelated.

See I was born in Gander Newfoundland, yes that Gander, from the play. Even though people call the town "heroes" or whatever, as a child at the time 9/11 wasn't about terror attacks. It was about extended summer. See, Gander allowed thousands and thousands of people who's flights were cancelled to stay in our town. Our schools were closed to house people, our homes were openned to take people, our churches and community center were packed with rows and rows of beds. Our small town of 10 000 more than doubled overnight.

But me, I was turning 9. My birthday was 9/10, so when school was closed the next day, it felt like God himself gave me a birthday present. At that point, we were given summer again, and there was only one thing to do, gather up my friends and go play.

Now when I was young, we would always play at the "Old Town Site", an abandoned military town that sat next to the airport, right next to the runway. It was from there that the town sprung up. But for us, it was a vast expanse of woods to run around in, safe because of the heightened airport security, and the "Turkey Farm" (it wasn't a turkey farm, but rather a military base of the top secret variety, but those are stories for another day), with the occasional ruined building to explore.

It's in one of those buildings that I think I died.

In Gander there is one ghost story that everybody knows, and that is: If you see a white rabbit out of season at the old town site, don't turn around.

As the story goes, back when the old town site was still inhabited, a woman was murdered. The reason changes with each telling, sometimes she cheated, sometimes she was a daughter, sometimes she was a witch, but what everyone agrees on is how she died. She was dismembered, both arms, and both legs, had her eyes carved out, and the whole lot of her body dumped in the town well. The next day when people found her, the well was surrounded by snow white rabbits even though it was out of season.

So if you see a snow white rabbit out of season, then she's right behind you.

Well while we were playing Man-hunt (hide and seek crossed with football), I decided to hide in one of the buildings. Flinn's house this one was called, because on the ground floor there was an underground cellar that you could crawl into, and our town vagabond Tracy Flinn, would often stay there in winter. However it was summer, and that meant it would be empty.

So I crawled in, and though it was dark, it was perfect for hiding. I hunkered down and waited, for how long who knows, time is so different back then, before cell phones and in the restlessness of childhood. Until eventually a snow white rabbit hopped down the crawl space and stopped directly in front of me.

My blood froze, and my heart rate skyrocketed, and suddenly I could feel eyes burning into me from behind. I can't say if it was panic from the stories setting in, or an actual phenomena, but I knew I couldn't stay there. I had to leave. I knew she was right behind me.

Slowly I crawled out from the cellar into the light, and slowly I exited the house. I began to slowly walk home, but I had that feeling behind me. That creeping feeling of dread. That barely supressed terror that makes you want to vomit and incapable of it all at once.

I tried to ignore it. I walked for several minutes, or hours for all I know. I could feel it. I remember hearing footsteps but I'm sure at the time there were none. I remember hearing faint dripping but I'm certain there was none. It was useless in the end though, I had to look. I couldn't head home without checking. And I regret that to this day.

She was behind me.

She stood, nonsensically on missing legs, arms that weren't there outstretched towards me. Empty eye sockets bleeding, staring directly at me. Yellowed teeth behind black and cracked lips sneered hatefully. Her naked, grey bloated body was waterlogged and bruised, and the smell that came out of nowhere was overpowering. But it wasn't the smell of rot, it was something else. Something unlike anything I had ever come across before, but now know to be stagnant water. Most of all I remember she could see me, she was staring directly at me, her eye holes burning into the back of my retna. And she hated me

So I ran. I sprinted. Faster than I had ever ran, farther than I could even run. I sprinted down the road by the runway, down past the recycling plant, past the graveyard, past where they were building a new walmart, all the way to my home. There I shut myself in my room and waited, catatonic.

It wasn't until recently that I realized all the weirdness that followed. My friends that day never came looking for me, and when we next spoke they were distant and strange. Eventually they all drifted from me. My parents checked in less, and I spent much of my time alone. My grades slipped. I developed paranoia and the feeling of being watched. I chalked it up traumatic experiences and being a loner, so I just went on in a haze.

But that whole sprint lasted nearly 40 minutes, and I wasn't even winded. More than that I always loved company, being a loner was new and different. I ate when I was supposed to and slept when I was supposed to, but I can honestly say I was never hungry or tired, just living on autopilot.

Last week I tried not eating to see if it was all in my head, to see if I was simply misremembering. I haven't felt a hunger pang since. I tried the same with sleep, and I'm still awake. I spent a whole night at the gym and never tired, or shed any sweat no matter what I did.

Now here I am, not sure if I'm alive or dead. I exist. I can talk to people. I work. But I can't connect to anyone. Food and Sleep are apparently optional. I have no relationships. I don't remember anybody and I don't think they remember me.

So I'm trying here, online, somewhere I will be believed.

You who read this, do you know me?

Worst of all is the realization that since that day 17 years ago, I have never looked over my shoulder. And I can't.

I know she's still here.

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net