[RECORD_RECOVERED — ORIGIN: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX — TIMESTAMP: 04.15.2013]
[TRANSCRIPTION — FIDELITY: PARTIAL — SOME SEGMENTS UNRECOVERABLE]
[TAPE BEGINS]
My name is XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. I taught high school English for XX years in XXXXXXXXXXXXX, California. I was decent at it. Better than decent for a while, I suppose. I even won a few awards, even Teacher of the Year once. By most measures, I lived a good, ordinary life. I was an ordinary man.
Something changed at age 41. I saw things I probably shouldn't have. They found me. I still don't know why. If you follow me long enough, you might see them too.
I know I'm repeating myself, but I need to tell you this plainly: if you've wandered this far into this little speck of nowhere, there are things here you might not want to know.
Does that make sense?
Do you remember those 3D Magic Eye pictures from the mall in the 90s? The ones where you had to unfocus your eyes to see the hidden image? Maybe you don't. Maybe I'm rambling. I do that now. Let me… let me try again.
You came through the gates with eyes unfocused. You accepted the agreements. You landed here, and you are welcome here.
I owe you the truth though, the real truth as it was shown to me. It isn't the whole truth, but it's more than you'd expect. I'll get to it. I will. Just… not yet. It's not time.
I'm retired now. I have time to sit with impossible things. I don't have to worry about what people think, or whether they'll call me crazy. I can tell you what I saw and what I know, and then circle back and explain it the best I can.
Can I tell you a true story?
On April 15, 2013—the day of the Boston Marathon bombing—something happened to me that I have never been able to explain. I was 41. Like I said, my life had been normal until then. Ordinary reality, ordinary days. But on that day, I dissolved. Or disappeared. Or… something. I don't know the right word. I only know I have never been the same since.
What I saw split my life in two. There was a Before and an After, as clean as any break. That date—April 15, 2013—is the fault line.
You made it here, but I don't want you in the rooms with no doors. I won't carry that millstone. Just—please—tread carefully. Notice the small things, not only here but out there, in the "real" world you think you know. You're already at the gate. You've already stepped through.
Be careful as you enter, kiddo. I like you. I really do.
My mind jumps around now. That's what happens. But if you hang on—if you unlock every key and code, here and out there—you might understand why I'm telling you this.
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