Invisible Strings

I remember what happened that day. It came to me like a jolt in my brain. Every detail of that day. I know, why I woke up with dried eyes. I know, why my psychiatrist was here. He called me, very early in the day. He sounded worried and in a hurry. It felt weird, my psychiatrist calling me for a session in my house.

He arrived at my house an hour after the phone call. He brought this fine whiskey. We sat at my kitchen table. I asked him "What is going on?". He pour two glasses. One for me, of course. He looked frantic. He said, "I needed to come. I remember." I keep quiet, he continued talking. It felt more like a confession. "Everything feels connected. Like an invisible string. Every time, I.. No. We have our sessions. It feels on repeat. Sometimes, we are meeting for the first time. Other times, we knew each other and I recommended you to another doctor. I even have it wrote down, but the next day. Everything resets, we forget  the session. Our session"

He drank his entire glass, then pour himself another one. I was taking small sips. It was very early. He looked around and continue on. " This time, it bleed into me. Memories. Years of resetting. It bleed from my subconscious. Yesterday, I felted like two different persons. The outsider looking in and the guy present not knowing and playing his part.  Candle Cove. You know, how many times we had that discussion?" He looked at me , waiting for an answer. I didn't know how to answer. He smiled and looking down at his glass. He drank the entire thing again. I'm almost finish with mine. He pours mine  and then himself again.

"I knew it. They have gotten to you again. I will tell you then. About 100 times. Sometimes, we change what we say. But the outcome is still the same. We been having similar sessions, without any progress." The light that was coming from my windows darken a bit, I stood up and turn on the lights. I sat back down.  "You know what's funny. I played along in some versions. Like a puppet." He finished his drink, yet again. He pours another one for himself. He looked scared. Not wanting to say the other bit. I believe, he was drinking to get the courage to talk.

"I have met the young man. I know, what they are. I know, why they have followed us. We. You know, you and me, we are the children of the cove. The children of that thing. It's weird, I find it pleasant. The same as you have mentioned before. We were more than us. I know, we were. We have to be."

I drank my whiskey.  I was shocked. I quickly ask, who is the young man? He answered, "He is one of many. The ones that aren't chosen to spread the seed. The ones who represent it. Think of them as mixture of prophet and soldier. They represent the many and the one." I didn't understand. I went blank. I looked around the kitchen. Everything got dark. I could hear it. The soothing sounds. I saw the doctor's face turned pale. I felted that cold fear in my body. We both knew, what was to come.

update #1

Someone wrote on my notes. I believe it's the young man, bastard. He doodles around my notes and wrote a message behind the paper. " Stop fooling around and try harder remembering. You could do it, our little tin ex-soldier." He is mocking me. Why does he want me to remember? What is the importance of his message? Why didn't he just write it down? I know why, it would be practical for him. 

News

I feel like I'm wasting my time watching the news. Is all tragedy these days, what happened to the cool old inspiring news. Don't get me wrong, they are some like the Olympics. But the bad outweighs the good. I know, it sounds pessimistic. That's what happens when you watch the news or any politician campaign. Greedy bastards. I know sometimes good can come up from the dirt.

For example, the other day there was a report about a kid who survive an encounter with an ominous serial killer. He describes the event on how the killer was standing there, analyzing, savoring its prey on front of the little boy's bedside. How the killer viciously jump on top of him, how the kid punched and kick the killer to prevent the almost inevitable until his dad arrived. The killer jump away from the kid and lunges into his dad. Only slightly cutting the man's shoulder, until the siren arrives. The killer made a run for it, disappearing after that, without a trace.

I know, it sounds like a bad example. But thanks to this incident, we now know the killer's description. Connecting him with various unsolved mysteries. Now, the authorities have a name for him. They are calling him, the grinning man, based on his (supposedly) Glasgow smile. Hopefully, they will captured that monster. It would be horrible, if he comes into my house. That would just be God's way of saying a very macabre joke. I have other things to deal with, but it comes to show how this world is slowly decaying. I know, inspiring words and kind of missed my own point.

If only I could stop distracting myself and tried to remember. I feel my subconscious is just stalling. At least, I been writing on a piece of paper my remembrance of that day. The only thing that was new about it, was that all of a sudden, it got dark.  It got pitch black in the morning. Memories can be a bitch, it doesn't add up. The more I think about it, the more my life doesn't make sense.

Clock

I was staring at my kitchen clock. Thinking about the other day and the message the young man said to me. Trying to remember, why I woke up with dried eyes on this table. Funny, how I find it soothing  to listen to the ticking sound of a clock. Watching how time slowly moves, but feeling that everything moves fast. We always perceive time moving forwards, always eating up the past and transitioning into the future. The present only existing in moments, quickly becoming the past. Then, it hit me. I remember who it was that visited me the other day. It was Brandon Morris, my psychiatrist. It's very peculiar that he visited me so early in the morning and especially the day after our session. Actually, the more I think about our last session. I found it weird that he knew about Candle Cove, also how he was treating me that day. The more I think about it, the more it feels like déjà vu. How can that be? It still doesn't explained, why was I crying? I need to remember our conversation. Why did he visited me?

Static

No more drinking all day. Last night, was something. Hell, yesterday was just absurd. If I recall correctly, I talked to the scientist from my dream, Doctor M, in my TV's screen. He was talking about some waves that produces a beacon. In my drunken state, I started laughing. I thought, he said bacon. He lashed at me. "Stop wasting time and listen.", he yelled at me. I notice multiple shadow of  black tentacle slowly surrounding the side of the TV screen and slowly moving toward the center. Consuming it, like a weird octopus. The doctor seem a bit angry at me. Screaming, "time is up. Listen carefully. Candle Cove is man-made. I should know. You and some others who can watch the show, acts as a beacon that was supposed ...." The doctor disappeared, as if he drowned in the static.

..uh

What the hell happened?  I need to go to sleep. Stupid TV, making my head hurt. I really need to analyze what the hell happened. Doesn't matter. Don't watch reality TV. Is the worst invention mankind have ever created. That's the shit we need to use as WMD. It causes more death than a bomb. What the hell. I need to recollect. That moment in static was mind blowing.

.....title something

  Watching TV, half-awake. Laying on this lovely sofa, flipping the channels. Watching the crap that we call TV. Having my laptop on my side writing random stuff on it. You know folks, the only cure for a early hangover. Is dot drink some more. Yee-haw. Flipping channels. Now and days, you can put anything of TV. You are a wife, who is from Jerseay. You get a show, you win the prize. I lose, they win.

How about this,  TV../? How about a show; about a man, who served his Country. Who quit to find life. outside the realms pf that hole, that we call existence. When the man got out, a decade later. He tries to find his childhood show. Then remembers crap of his last day at corps or confusing memories/dream into a big blender.  Dyslexia of the mind and stuff. Up and down.

Yeah, that show would be great. Crazy bastard Johnny Variety Hour. Featuring John Motherfucking Peters. Also starring Black trenchy young fucker pants. Look at how they will fight. Yeaah.   Fuck TV. Oh, great. It's all static now. Oh, no. Ominous. Everyone have a shot on me. I going to fight the dead air of static.

I woke up in my dining table. My eyes feel dried, as if I was crying. I remember drinking whiskey with someone in my house. My head hurts. Sleeping in the middle of the day, to wake up in the early evening. This is going to be a fantastic night. Having insomnia for the entire night. Watching crappy TV shows until my eyes are finally heavy. Fucking hate drinking early in the day. It makes me feel like shit later in the day.

Psychiatrist Visit

I just got back from the psychiatrist. It went well. I explained to him about the young man. How he was in my dreams and my memories. He told me, I maybe suffering of PTSD or Posttraumatic stress disorder. He asks if I have been feeling anxious recently. I told him, not really. I went on describing my last dream, the one were I was married. How it felt so real.

Of course, he said the mind can play tricks on people, but he found it interesting. I ask why. He said if I remember the incident. Ask which one? He went on telling me, of my last day at the military. How I lost every single member of my squad. I didn't remember that event. He found it amusing and went to say that, maybe that young man is an apparition of guilt. The guilt of that event.

Did my mind block that event? I remember a lot of childhood, my adolescences and my military career. How can I have forgotten such a tragic event? I had remember it before, since the shrink knew about it. But I'm in a blank. He prescribed anti-anxiety pills and to check with him in two weeks. Out of my curiosity, I ask if he knew about Candle Cove. He was a bit shocked. He said, he does. We started talking about how Pirate Percy always ended up in trouble because of his childish greed. How Poppy, the second in command always needed to rescue him.

We talk how terrifying the Skin Taker was. We talked how he wanted to be the most powerful being in the cove. By eating others, he would take the essence becoming stronger. We laugh, how that show was so scary now, than we were children. He then said about how some of his neighborhood friend went and play hide and seek with their imaginary friend.

I was in shock. I quickly ask if they played on the cove. The forest near the waves. He told me, yes.
He went on to describe the same imaginary friend, as I did. Did we play with him together? Now, that I think about it. He looked familiar to me. We needed to stop, since it was taking his work time. He of course, didn't charge for extra time. I finally found another who knew about the show.

He gave me his number, to have a drink and talked about the show. He said, he was going a bit crazy, not knowing if the show was real or not. I said, will do. So far, the young man hasn't appeared since my last dream. Regardless, I need to remember what he told me. If he is a figment of my subconscious, I may find peace in mind.

A Lucid Dream

I had a dream, last night. I was in those woods, listening to the sound of waves and children laughter. I saw a man, not the same as the young man, nor the other people that accompany him. This one was dress as a scientist. I couldn't pick up how he looked like, but I could tell he wasn't with them. I was trying to understand what he was trying to tell me. Not that he was speaking with a different language, but as if he was far away. He was a bit erratic. All I could hear from him was that his name is Doctor M-something and he was sorry.

He looked concerned and looking around. Maybe, those soothing sounds was muting his voice. Now, that i remember, the trees didn't looked like normal trees. I believe it's normal for a dream. I could make out the doctor trying to scream, only making out the word "Legion". Then, as if I was push away. I fell into another dream. This one was about a woman and a little girl, I felt familiar. As if I see them before, the girl spoke. She said "Dad." I looked upon her face, she was my daughter.

It couldn't be. I wasn't married, nor did I had a child. Did I? No. I'm certain. My dream wife gave me a plate of my favorite food. Skirt steak with mashed potatoes. I tasted, I could feel that delicious meat in my mouth. It felt like was reliving a memory. Then I heard a "No", it was the voice of that man. The young man. I looked around. I saw him behind me, he smiled. Then, I woke up in a cold sweat.

What was the meaning of this? I need to go to a psychiatrist soon. I keep seeing that young man. Is he in my head? Who was that doctor guy?  What is Legion? I hope I'm not possess by the Devil.

My Imaginary Friend and My Boogeyman

When I was seven or eight , after I watched the show. I used to hang out with my friends. We used to play hide and seek. We all had this imaginary friend, he always finds us. If I were to described him, I would say he was tall and thin. His face is indistinguishable. Is not that he was faceless? Well, sometimes he did. I know, he sounds scary. He was nice. It talked to us. He was just pleasant.
Sometimes, we go to those woods. To Candle Cove. Where we could have played forever. I found it funny now. How weird those that sounds?

That man I saw on that bar again, I saw him again today. He smiled at me. Then it hit me, I have seen him before. When I was a kid, he haven't aged for thirty years. He always was there. He always smiled, he always wore that black jacket. He wasn't alone. He was always surrounded by the other people. Some wore hoods, others masks, but they were most of the time on the Cove. My imaginary friend protects us from them. Did he? Now that I remember, they always followed or preceded whenever I met my imaginary friend.  Was it real?

Each encounter with my friend, always ended with that man coming closer to me and laughing. Then, I would wake up. He did say something to me. I need to remember. That man is back.

A Drink

During our off time, if you can call that. We could go to the town and just enjoy our freedom. We had this "local" bar, that must of us hang out. It was fun, if you can ignored the stares. We had the victory drinks, the best in my opinion. This time it was for saving them from an event I don't remember. They said my eyes were different, as they picture a perfect soldier. Soulless, but dedicated. The perfect follower. I laugh and said in the heed of the moment anything can happened. We drank, we laugh, we talked about our past sexual relationships, we talked about what was waiting for us. That feeling of thinking to see you loved ones again.

Not knowing what we are doing, only wishing the same as us. To hold each other, to joke, to play our family games. Those little moments are precious, when we don't have to worried about our CO. Everything was normal. Someone bought me a drink. This man. This young man who maybe from the village. I walk toward him. He was wearing black boots and this black long trench looking jacket. It was 100 something degrees. He wasn't sweating. He smiled. I thanks him for the drink.

He didn't respond. He was staring at the radio. I was weird it out, as young people would say. I tried to listen to it. It was a familiar jingle. The young man was winkling his finger in the beat of the jingle. I remember it, oh so well. It couldn't be. It was the opening song of Candle Cove. The man saw my remembrance of it. He started laughing and he grab my arm. He told me "Is it lovely? Your call has been answer. Stupid doctor, your kids still respond to us."

 I tried to talk back, I tried to move away. I'm a soldier, why I'm scared. He doesn't look that strong, but I felt weak. I couldn't move, I was his slave. He looked straight into me, he start laughing.  He then said "Too soon." I was thinking why hasn't my comrade hasn't help me. The guy let me go. He then walked away, I looked at him when he was nearing the exit. I saw a forest, he disappeared. I blinked, in the darkness of my blink I saw my imaginary friend again. I open my eyes. I looked back at the radio, it was broken. It looked broken for ages. I came back to my comrades, I ask if they saw the young man. They said, they haven't seen no one. They thought I needed some space to recollect. That man I met today, this wasn't the last time I would see him. Hell, I believed this wasn't our first meeting.

Desert Dream

During one of my mission in the Middle East, we were deployed on this town. That town, if you could call it that. Looking at those families, the children looking at us. Scared, at looking at us. We were  there to defend them, but they didn't know. It hurts when you don't know their language, their culture, anything about them. Only that we were there to do our job.

 Whoever is reading this, this wasn't the recent conflict on the Middle East. It was just normal procedure, a normal mundane day. Until a shot was heard, we took cover. Me and one of my partners went inside one of the houses. A house with a family of four. The parents screams, my partner who spoke a little of their language tried to calm them down. I turn around and I saw their children looking at the TV.  Lo and behold, it was my favorite show as a kid. Candle Cove. I was mesmerized.

Nostalgia got the better of me. My partner who heard gunfire, tried to get my attention. I couldn't. I needed to get inside. I was a child again. I went toward the kids, who they were entranced the same as I was. The voices of their parents, the guns and my partner were muted. It was one of my favorite episode. When Janice needed to find the muse of the cove, but Horace Horrible wanted for the Skin Taker. After that, I black out. All I heard was the soothing sounds of children's laughter and those woods.

Only one figure stood there with me. My imaginary friend. I woke up. I was back at the base. My team congratulating me on saving their asses, as they kindly put it. I didn't want to say, I didn't remember, so I accepted it. Then we went out for a drink, but I feel I have talked too much. Post it some other time.

Introduction

Hi, my name is John Peters. I used to serve with the military. I'm using this blog to find out about my childhood show called Candle Cove and keep it as a journal. I have read around it never actually existed. I don't believe it. I remember it. That laughingstock crew, they were so animated. Better than the other puppet shows. This only serve as my two cents, I will post my experiences on with that show. How it has affected me.