Haunting

Everywhere I went today...he was there. Like an incessant itch that won't go away. Woke up with the intention of collecting rumors about mersayochan but ended up spending the whole day trying to shake the feeling that he was breathing down my neck. My black angel constantly invades my thoughts with his silent stare.

I remember when he first came. He was silver then. I can't forget it; I've probably written about it a hundred times. He just stood there, threatening only by way of his strangeness, a sense of unknown. I remember the first time his silent thoughts filtered through my head; silencing me. I wish I had spoken of him to my father. I was afraid then, and now my chance is gone.

Oh NINYLOCHAN, why did this calamity come upon my village? Was not my father exemplary, a great seer? Did he not speak your name in tongue and paper before the villagers? Yet you allowed this great chaos to overcome him; and all the people. Where is this fabled mersayochan? Who is he to save that which has perished?

nidylochan has surely visited me.

I did learn one thing today. I spoke with a grandmother who explained to me the wild stories of her youth. She claimed to have seen the change before. The change! She said it was like a gray mist, enveloping the object. Something, she proudly informed me, you could only see with a darting sideways glance at precisely the right moment.

She also recalled for me a hero's tale from her youth. The tale described the wanderings of the man who found the very birthplace of chaos, a mountain enveloped in the change. The hero of the tale apparently describes the mountain as being covered in perpetual fog, like a clinging gray mist. She used it as proof for her first story. Ha!

I must write all these things down; I realize more and more how much my mind forgets. Already yesterday is forgotten and tomorrow is on the tip of my tongue. Sometimes it is easy to forget, when remembering means reliving pain.

-Creos