We’re surrounded by trees. We walked for an hour to come here, it was my idea. No, it wasn’t my idea. I was just the one to say it. I’ve been here before, I know what happens here. I was the one who thought it was a good spot.

It’s quiet here, far from roads, off the trails. Surrounded by trees so we’re hidden at a glance, but sparse enough we can see someone coming. The leaves here are wet from a small stream so it’s easy to be quiet. But we can hear what’s coming.

We can see what’s here.

She’s screaming now, “Please! Stop! Please, Lorelai, stop, please! Please! Make it stop!”

I feel sick, but I can’t move. My eyes are stuck on her as she crumbles to the ground. I can’t hear anything but her screams.

No, I don’t hear her screaming, I just hear static. I can tell what she’s saying though, I always know what they’re saying.

He’s punishing me, I was bad. I didn’t do what I was supposed to. I forgot, I think. I thought I was normal for a second. I almost was.

She’s not screaming anymore, she’s coughing, seizing. There’s blood coming out of her eyes and ears, it comes out of her throat as she heaves. I can move. But I don’t.

I can hear now, I can hear her coughing and gagging. I want to throw up, but I don’t. I watch and I write what happens.

He stands and watches with me. No, not with me. He watches me more than he watches her.

He wants me to finish.

The forest is quiet again.

This is what she didn’t want you to see that week. It took time to find, but we knew it existed. She is a scrivener afterall. We will continue surveillance as normal. Alice’s family will grieve in peace. Raise your wards, maintain your vigils, and never forget lux mendacium.

3/11/25