It's done.

I open the file. The Truth. Throughout the text, in the screen of my computer, the ghostly reflection of my eyes can be seen moving rapidly, desperately over the words, the words that claim to be all of the truth I'll need to find out what's happened to Jadusable since this strange course of events began, what this strange haunting has been about. Who is BEN? And how did he drown?

I'll find out.
I have to. Perhaps it is unjustified, but I feel as though I am someone's very last hope.


In the end it is not the content of the file that horrifies me. It is not Jadusable's steady bow to insanity, nor is it his prevailing anxiety, his revolting nightmare, nor the wicked entity that toys with him like a cat with a suffocating mouse, or my occassional discovery of the little things he never told us that seems to make everything so clear that horrifies me.It is the immediately questionable credibility of the truth. That is what horrifies me.
There is something uncharacteristic, eerie and strange and not at all right about his conclusion. No, not conclusion. This is no conclusion. It is only the beginning.

Lastly, thank you for taking the time to open this and open yourselves up to me by hearing my story, despite maybe not beliEving me. You didn't have to do that - really, you shouldn't have. Your support this entire time has kept me going and now I am finally free of this.

Thanks again,

̶̵͎͚̗̙̬ͮ͒͌̕a̯̙̦͙͖̩͉ͨ͒̂̀

Jadusable

I am not a hero. I'm not an accomplished detective and I'm not intelligent, significant, brave, strong, anything. I'm a young girl who got sucked into a scary campfire story gone horribly, horribly wrong. I'm not cut out for this, the real truth.

But I've realized what's happened.

He's here.

I've opened it.

he's here, I can't see him but he's here, somewhere

oh god

my hands shake- where? where would I start? who do I tell? what do I do?

what did Jadusable do? He panicked, he was worried, he disappeared.

what will become of me

what do I do, oh shit, oh god, what do I do…


It is late.

I have decided to get a new computer. I cannot sleep with my laptop in the room, with the possibility that BEN may be lurking on it somewhere, toying with my files, perhaps trying to find a way out. I deleted off of my computer as soon as I could, but I'm sure it was too late. I analyzed the text document for many hours, and even left it open with my back turned while I fed my pet, before I reached the bottom and realized what wicked thing had happened.

Now I am stuck. At least, I am stuck until I get a new computer.

For now, I rest. I was up for hours, trying to convince myself that this couldn't have been real even though I know that it is. I can feel trouble brewing, serious trouble, I sense it in my heart.

A heart I really would be better without. Cowardice won't get me anywhere. It won't stop the entity that took Jadusable and what rests illegitimately in my harddrive; if anything it makes me all the more the palpable target.
I wish I had a new heart. One that was hard and cold and brave – all of the things I am not, and likely could never be.
If only I was something else, someone else, anything, I could open my computer again and destroy BEN in one fell swoop.
If I had those things, surely I could.


Oh God what was that, what was it.
I sit up in bed. My hand raises slowly to my jaws where the teeth within may find comfort in furiously gnawing my fingertips. My heart pounds so hard in my chest that I audibly choke.
There is a light in my bedroom.

I can feel as the pounding of my veins forces blood through my arms though it feels more as though they're being constricted. I feel nauseas, dizzy.
The light source is coming from my desk.
I grab my glasses, don them to my face hurriedly, sticking myself in the eye with the arm of one side, rush to my desk—

oh god the laptop is on. its on, there's a light, my screen is on.
Calm down Audrey! Relax.
It's nothing.
Sometimes the screen boots when an update forces the computer to reboot.

-No, no, it can't be, I turned my computer completely off, this can't be, it just can't be.
I rush through my bedroom, thowing on all of the lights that I can, making sure the room is bright and full and alive.
I let my rabbit out of its cage, just to feel less alone. I consider calling my mother but it's so late, it's two twenty-two in the morning.
I'm petrified of my login.
Petrified. I can't move, I can't type.
My password, I have to enter it. I have to find out what happened. Perhaps this is part of the game, perhaps this is a clue.

No. I can't help but think that this isn't a game.
I can't help but think this is real.
I can sense it.
…I have to open it…for Jadusable, for research, for something, anything. Anything to feel something other than worthlessness.
I begin to enter my password.
-I typed it poorly, my login fails.

I try again.
I fail.
I try again, slowly.
Failure.
I pause. I think, center yourself, girl, control.
One more time, and I fail, and I know at once that something has gone wrong.
I close my laptop. I pick up my rabbit, hold him close. To convince myself, as if it is worth the bother, that I am not alone.
But I feel like I'm in my own purgatory.


It's been an hour.
I try again, but this time, I nervously toy with this stupid game.
I type, B E N into my password field.
Fail. Thank god.

I type D R O W N E D into the password field.
Nothing.

I type Y O U R T U R N into the password field.
I am faced with my desktop.
Tears rush to my eyes.
Please. No.
I don't have the heart for this.