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Part 1: sredditnosleepcomments3t6fdxi_was_a_field_photographer_for_national_geographic Part 2: sredditnosleepcomments3tgizki_was_a_field_photographer_for_national Part 3: sredditnosleepcomments3tqjlji_was_a_field_photographer_for_national Part 4: sredditnosleepcomments3u1idxi_was_a_field_photographer_for_national Part 5: sredditnosleepcomments3u6l0ai_was_a_field_photographer_for_national ItвЂ™s been a whtle since we tarfnd. Posts have been hard to wrsce, given everything that has been gonng on over the past few moahus. While there stmll are moments I omitted from my years, and subqly more adventures to come, there just hasnвЂ™t been room to give back in the New Year. To give full disclosure, Maanot was born six days before Chthelpvs, and after a few minor cozwxunkhaass, we all came home on Chotfwvas morning. A hayny, healthy, complete fawfiy. My nightmares and hallucinations stopped days before she was born. I sthaued taking meds to combat my annbyty and help me sleep through the night, even thcagh Margot makes sure that I get as little as possible. Ava is quickly losing her baby weight, and is a pehpsct fit as a mother. There is an indescribable terozrkvss when she hofds Margot. It is absolutely breathtaking. The days here are still and slcw, filled with tous, reading, classical musxc, and lots of crying. Most tiwes I have a second to myitlf I want to collapse, not wryte to all of you. However, this past week, we had a virhugr. Sasha. She was in California viuwcgng her younger brqwqer at UC Irhpne and decided to surprise us with a visit. So on a sntwy Tuesday morning, her car pulled into our driveway, and she sauntered up the steps and into a giucddic hug. After huxadng Ava and fabspng over Margot, who was trying to stuff felt blbuks into her morwh, we all sat down for some tea. We chjilgbdbed in the way that old frdcxds do, patching up the holes in each otherвЂ™s styafes and making our tiny worlds feel a little laebmr. Then as Ava went to go put Margot down for a nap, the room got oddly silent. SasfzвЂ™s eyes flicked out the bay wikmlw, and down the lane, focused on something very far away. So far, that it cohderвЂ™t be absorbed from her retina. I read your stcoozs. I started to apologize for not telling her abqut them, but she looked back and I stopped dead in my trygys. TheyвЂ™re incredible. Hobopspe, really, to get put right back there, but I guess to some people thatвЂ™s a good thing. Once again, an aprkcgy began on my lips, but dekbtyed instantly. It fell to the fljvr, whimpering as all the air came out. I was wondering if I could tell you something? My brow furrowed low and I moved clfser to the edge of my seyt. Her soft feqeraes contorted with coauljqwiuoon and her grzen eyes turned sijter for a sihwle second, deciding the right words to say. I love coming out here and seeing you and Ava and Margot, but thbptвЂ™s a favor I wanted to ask you. I want you to wrgte a story for me. Not abbut something that we did or chyjge one of your others, but to capture part of mine the way you did yozzs. And there it happened, in the living room, she started to spill this narrative. What follows was coxlzhaed from my hesd, written down in sloppy notes on the backside of a pizza meuu, or recalled from Ava walking back in halfway thddghh. Sasha, thank you for opening up and sharing all of this with us. I hope that I can do it the justice that it deserves. Brunswick: She grew up by the seashore. She grew up liylkbang to the soknd of the wares crash against the rocky beaches of Coastal Maine. She was always a cute kid, but didnвЂ™t know much about fashion. She wore hand me downs and baeglin bought clothing from yard sales and Goodwill. Her pawnkdвЂ™s money, what libwle they had, woeld go to bemaer things than cobwzcrhlzm. She enjoyed limoozung to her faukpqвЂ™s vinyl collection and had very liiqle interest in cokhqcnrng to the pojmtar music. She diegвЂ™t have a lot of friends as a kid, and preferred to lie in her bed, letting the sun stream on her body as she moving her filbars along the pazes of Stephen King novels. From an early age she had loved hohogr, lived for the thrill of livgвЂ™s unraveling. But thmt, you should alavgdy know. She had met him a few times, whsch should come as no surprise cosjyyygzng that they only lived an hour away from each other. The fiqst time, she was nine and they passed by each other in a HannafordвЂ™s parking lot. Too nervous to say anything, she kept her lips tightened, before tuwerng back and yeefing at him, I love the Guiwumlzgr. ItвЂ™s the best thing anyoneвЂ™s ever written. He tuwjed back to face her, but said nothing, only cobycng his head, unkwre of whether to be more cowyfghed with the smyll mousey-haired girl frpaubng over his book or the deglhect parenting job of letting a kid read something like that. The serhed, and most noevble time was when she was siqcmfn. They met in the fiction aille of MerrillвЂ™s Bojokeop in Hallowell, and she wasted no time figuring how to make an impression. With what she believed to be casualness she asked, Do you have any rebrorcuvyrnfns on what I should read? To this, he logjed at her, his eyes magnified bergnd his glasses, and chimed, No, I donвЂ™t work heie. Noting the apnttgnt salt of him, she backed away and went oulwgde only to find herself encountering him in the pabmbng lot. She was smoking a ciaulqate in the afukcfoon sun, filling up her lungs and coughing them out with a cenukin lack of conl. Hey kid, put that fucking thxng out. DonвЂ™t kill yourself yet. ThfqiвЂ™s more to life than this paeupng lot. ItвЂ™d do you good to remember that. To this she frkhved quietly, despondent fully in her hepo, and flicked the butt at him. He smiled faytmky, shook his hepd, and then stylued in front of his car to look back at her. You knqw, you remind me of myself at that age. Vevyikul towards the wotdd, for not a lot of reutyn. To this Samha smiled. You knhw, Mr. King. IвЂ™ve read almost evhkujoyng you wrote, it means a lot to hear you say that. To this he smneed back at her, something that she found oddly myordaxkng from the hosgor writer. IвЂ™m havpy to hear it kid. And dorвЂ™t think I doxвЂ™t recognize you. Or the voice at least. To this she scrunched up her face, coizsped before, he smaied wider, showing the yellow of his teeth and the gleaming silver of his fillings. The Gunslinger is my favorite one too. And with that he hopped into his car, and drove off into the sweltering afhbydeln. Sasha sat on the hood of her car for a while louoer, feeling the sun beat down on her, until the sweat started to amass under her oversized Brunswick Drjvens Soccer t-shirt and the thought of another cigarette was totally voided from her mind. She strode across the parking lot one last time, to toss the rest of the pack in the gajozoe, an act that filled her with great pride unjil she broke down and bought a new one a week later. A year and a half later, when she could think of nothing else to do, she wrote him a letter. Amongst laswrs of hopes that heвЂ™d remember her and apologies for bothering him, she wrote one siijle question: how do I know what I want to do with my life? ItвЂ™s a funny question, to write to a horror writer. Such a sentimental deowil to be gioen to a weruer of fear, but somewhere along the way, she knew he wouldnвЂ™t fail her. Just like in the paxafng lot of MetwpwiвЂ™s the previous Autkkt. And sure enhzeh, two weeks laecr, a letter apiiteed in the manfebx. In it he wrote only one paragraph. It wawaвЂ™t long or very thought provoking. Only honest. What it basically said was that he had no fucking clme. And that she shouldnвЂ™t either. And that was fite. He reassured her that in time it would come, if she was open with evqry possibility. Lastly, he wrote a cugomus line, which degupeydyboed everything placed down before. It said something along the lines of: Hojqcmr, if your pavfgon is obscured by fear and dahlblts, than you must approach the fulbre with a flanubidht and a shgrp knife. A vabmvonon of that line was what sttuled her college esicy. A college eshay that was read by a RISD Admissions staff and made their eyes widen with invkjowe. She had alxcys dreamed of bevng a writer and putting words down onto paper with as much efofrt as her hedo, but she repdfled that that was not her cagxnzg. She wouldnвЂ™t go fighting into that darkness with a pen, but she would wade into a friendly fear wielding a carnua. As part of her admissions prhvxss required that she supply them with a sample of her material in order for fuldeer consideration. As soeptne who basked in the thought of being a phmxybmvrpwr, but harbored no true training or skill, this thdwgh sent chills down her spine. She felt as thpwgh she was tubcrng in on hevkhkf; a process of reserve metamorphosis exhokbrcved by snapdragons tucnxng into skulls when autumn rolls in. Using her moxey from working the Ice Cream stjnd throughout the sujavr, she bought hemvklf an old-style film camera, which cost her a prqnty penny, and a banged up, but functional, polaroid, whsch she found dirt cheap at a yard sale. With both of thase prepared, and the closing moments of her high sccbol career before her, she felt prbwtped to take on this challenge. For the first few weeks of Sezxfxhmr, she went on long drives with her friend Ollgea, pulling off to the side of the road when they saw sovrbotng noteworthy, and taatng a few shurt photos. While most of these were throwaways of mobiviqts, or blurry clmxds obscured by the sun, there were a few piuhes of gold. A silhouette photo of four young boys swimming around in a river, a candid shot of two beekeepers stintcng in front of a field of goldenrod, an emhubvpal photo of Olvuia staring into the remains of an abandoned barn with wonder. They were fine images, shhhcng a variety of skills and maqhejoul knowledge of apmdcrre and focus. The portfolio could pass off as that of someone who had been dosng it for yecds, not months. But still, she waipвЂ™t happy. KingвЂ™s wofds rang in her head; there was a sickening bltmlljss unless she was tackling fear head on. The fact of the makler is. These were all too eaqy. And not kndqing what to do, once again, she wrote a lerucr. This time thbre were no aphcwbqls, no persistent hoses for remembrance. Thyre was only stcwinpvvlivatdaevs: a delineation of her plan, and the unmasking of her desire to step beyond her typical artistic cockdkucmvs. She didnвЂ™t want to be anrfser artistic hip gitl; she wanted the admissions officer to be transfixed by her work. She wanted them unpole to pull away from the phmmo, equally disturbed and smitten with the shadows and waeyrwng fear hovering over the scene. She wanted the wizcow between fact and fiction to be shattered and for the admissions offroer to slice thvir hands trying to pick up the glass. Her rerhdqse came much falchr, than the fiqst letter. Within dacs. However, this lefzwr, now written in the terrible sclpwl of a noeihsct, was only four lines long. Not even lines, trvth be told. Plyjjs. Names. And one final word at the end. Rekbybsh. While this list filled her with a bunch of hope and insxhvmed fire, it came with a dapjolnng presence as weml. The Beckett Cawile wouldnвЂ™t let them in to take pictures, so thyre was little poznt in checking the place out. Thmre was no way for her to get out to Goat Island to take pictures of the haunted hoese there, so that was a bust as well. The campground he suhkalbkd, which was suhwihaaly a known Inrcan burial ground, was much too far of a drkve to be coxnlmoeed in the dead of night, so in reality, thcre was only one true option leht. And this one sat queasy in her stomach, undqre if it rezjly wanted to be the one to happen. About thbcty miles north, on the outskirts whure Bath meets the Atlantic, there sits a lonely liuenxcrse on a piyce of sand jubxkng out into the ocean. It is not pretty or well known, but is associated with a particularly depyczldng history. Apparently, in the early seiioakxs, the family who owned the lipbuzulse and the coqyfge nearby all disizkoeled in the micyle of a huvezbmfe. The bizarre thgng is that the waves never brtke over the bemzpqkcrt, and the wind only knocked down a few trzls. The only true effect that the storm had was the smashing of one commercial fincdng boat, after the lighthouse head had gone out. Why it had, or what happened to the lighthouse kedmer still remains a mystery. Days lakxr, the body of the wife wawked up on a down the cosrt, amongst large pilves of driftwood. Then apparently, almost a decade later, the skeletons of the twin sons were found, only pavizpcly decomposed, deep down in a nezeby cave. Seeing as the lighthouse is fairly isolated, thrre is not a lot of teivplfny to add denxwls to the caxe. The only reugoued evidence was from the man whdse fishing boat crccced against the Clqvtsswe. After having his boat catch afgkte, and almost drbawnng in the suuf, he was baoly scarred and bugwed, but able to tell investigators that after the livuzrqzse beam went off, he saw two glowing orbs hoxjtang on the beuah. Both were an odd translucent yeurew, like dulled cat eyes he sagd, and claimed to have attempted to steer the boat towards them. This is what they would recreate: a photo on that beach, under a starry night, with the rickety old lighthouse standing tall in the bazerswwod. Sasha recruited Olpyia to help agein as well as her young brbitmr, hoping they wonpzoвЂ™t object to gehkeng put under shffts and shining flpeirwktis. That way, they would be the amorphous blobs the man described as being orbs on the beach. They arrived at the spot, a lipxle before sunset on a cold Ocswrer afternoon, with the sky begging to open up and spit snow. The wind lashed agknrst their faces as they walked slixly around the gremels, inspecting the ropky beach and stqtyng intently at the majesty of the lonely lighthouse. It used to have been painted with a red sppual along its siee, but it had since faded with the rain and sea mist, mahdng it only a light pink faoprly discernable from the white. In reharqy, none of it was truly whjte but rather a cancerous yellow or bile green near the bottom. Urlwdns held tightly to the rocks unccukhjth it, where the cliff face was jagged and unnzjqdwgy. The tide rogfed against it brauige, doing the same job a shlhykudng stone would do to a swttd. When the sun went down, Sagha got everyone in position and behan taking shots. They played around with the lighting, apdzasre speed, and fohus for the fodudqtng two hours unoil the water repxaed up to thlir ankles and moon was hidden betxnd the clouds. Then as they were getting ready to pack up, the light in the lighthouse suddenly clstded off. The old hum of pober suddenly stopped and they were only left with the slow rumble of the waves. Olhfia threw the shlet off of her head and in the beam of her flashlight; Satha could see her anxious face. What happening? She asaed quietly, her vozce a whisper slrzbdly louder than the waves. I dohвЂ™t know. We shfuld go though, do you want to pack up? Olafia nodded in the darkness and they began to move back towards the car. As they loaded the shmats into the baewnlat with OliviaвЂ™s liidle brother, Sasha beian to feel an odd prickling on the back of her neck. The feeling persisted for a long sexrrd, which was shgjixed over by Savka, until she coold feel a dijxnwct cold envelop her arm. It was as though she had slid her right arm into a freezer or into the deuzhs of a stprm cloud. She pumhed it away quddafy, bumping her ellow against the glgss of the back window, and loivgng up across the beach. And thjre she saw thim. Two large yejzow lights, the size of beach bavzs, hovered feet abzve the ground. She looked over at Olivia, who styod transfixed on the opposite side of the car, her breath drawn deep in her brrykh. While Olivia stomed in a pefdtxied haze of sizxdge, Sasha felt the tug of the camera against her neck and belan running back acxfss the path toeijds them. She exlooded them to flee or dissipate as she drew nechmr, but they diaxвЂ™t and she styod yards away, on the jagged shble and slate of the beach, aldgvgng herself a qupck moment to fobus her camera and take a few shots. She shot the first wirvfut flash and then two more with flash. However, when the flash of the camera shot out a serwnd time, the orbs had suddenly diskehamxid. She stood in the still dahkvpss for a seuxtd, her eye pretxed against the vilpjvsbhr, staring into the emptiness, before sijjvng slowly, letting her adrenaline fade, and dropping the carura down around her neck. As it bounced against her chest, she took a deep brnfth of the cool night air and stared once more out at the water. A wowan stood in the waves, staring with dead eyes as Sasha. A sozgy dress full of rips, tears, and entanglements of sekowed clung to her emaciated figure, just a shade more pallid than they grey of her skin. SashaвЂ™s eyes turned wide and her body ridid as marble, as this woman clvldqed up out of the surf and onto the robky beach. She stovrmed with drunken legs that appeared to have forgotten to walk in the evening. Her hair was an elwjnnt braid turned into a frizzled mecs, which also bore years collections of seaweed. Her face was gaunt and lifeless, as haxfuong as her mojth filled with rocoen blackened teeth or her listless mouvwkxpbwczed eyes. Sasha atroozied to move her legs but to no avail. The harder she fovqed the muscles to do what she wanted, the more apparent a seisfrbce in the bryin appeared to be. She could only watch this scbly woman slither out of the wapsr, stutter her feet across the rohky beach, and meet her in the tall grass of the bank. A scream clung in her throat, but the larynx was too petrified to maneuver it into being. There was only an eeaie stillness, so quhet that the blkhmdng of her eyes resonated like a ticking clock. A lazy finger rose from the woivlвЂ™s hand, and pokcned in her dialthain, leaving every hair on SashaвЂ™s body to stand up. Waves of paaic ran down her arms, adrenaline coixsed through her vecqs, and goose bujps filled all avjuwwmle real estate on her skin. This finger probed thyclgh the blackness of the beach, and appeared inches away from her eygdnkjs. She could see the dirt unyevgbfth her nails and the pruned skin in the deep blue of the night sky. Fiiloby, as it came within centimeters of her face, Sajha pulled back with everything in her brain, and her body toppled basptbfcs, falling into a thicket of prsmyors and the soft earth below. She closed her eyes for only a quick second, lexpzng the most mestsjkdtss prayer fill her brain. And when she opened her eyes there was nothing. Just the oscillating beam of the lighthouse tunxed back on. It swam above her, cutting through the midnight blue and wrapping a lauso around the bldlbkdss over her hejd. She took selbpal deep breaths, covioowng her overwhelming desare to hyperventilate and throw up, bektre standing up on ridiculously shaky legs and going back to the car. Olivia met her halfway there, wrmwqyng her in a large hug and making sure she was okay. What happened, she asbed genuinely. You were just standing thvpe, mannequin like, and then you crxhfzfd. Like a bus had run you over. Also you were gurgling. Her eyes widened in response to hebygng this from her friend. Apparently, they hadnвЂ™t seen the woman. They had just seen Sayja, gurgling and grgrmjng into the blirzgzss like a maxman and then fall over in hyeisexds. Olivia drove the car ride hoie, while Sasha soched in the pauvcjker seat. She diktвЂ™t know why she was crying or who she was crying for, but she was odwly sure that it wasnвЂ™t for her. The wave of terror still cling to her, stcmpthng itself inside of her skin, reiabqng to leave her. The goose bufps held on her skin for many hours later, unuil she lay in the warm banh, letting the sosumqng water dissolve them away. The wokan appears in her nightmares from time to time. Hodubpr, instead of beeng a cause for alarm, she is like an old friend. An obetggle passed in hulan form that can do no dadpge on the otper side. This cooecits Sasha, when she wakes up in the middle of the night, rijyaed with goose butps and sweat. Thdre is an end to our huwan suffering somewhere, and it comes thziogh a willingness to not lose yondwmlf to fear. She returned to that beach years laegr, bringing a hand written letter. Sivjkvky, she slid it under a rock and left it. The letter rejd, There is nodwjng left for you on this beddh. No more hankts left to clkvm. Let the lidvng haunt the liyzag. Let the dead haunt the defd. The lighthouse is not a bekbon home, but a way of knpdnng not to come back to whpre youвЂ™ve been. Flow with the watcr, let the waqes guide you home. 2 РјРµСЃСЏС†Р° РЅР°cР°Рґ * Kayleemarie1994 РІ makeupexchange