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That's Where the Tape Ended

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Kantavieras

That's where the tape ended.

That's where the tape ended was the beginning of a novel I was working on, also the only line I had for my first day writing out of college. It was all about a childhood friend back on the farm in a place that is no more.

Enton it was called, before the territory became apart of its bordering land of Finland. But I left that place, I wish I had never known it had existed.

Let me explain... I don't remember how it started, but it was my earliest memory; I'm playing in a field at dusk with my best and only friend as a young boy, 'Kantavieras' was his name. We're running around until I fall into a pit that was going to be a well.

I was scared being in the small area of the dark, dusty pit. Kantavier wanted to get help, but it would be night in minutes, leaving me in a horrible situation- alone in complete darkness at that age. It must have been pretty deep, because we couldn't hear each other straight because of the echo.

Kravavier kept a tape recorder with him (his father gave him to record messages to better know his son upon return from the war-but that's irrelevant).

He would record a message, then throw it down to me and vice versa. It made me feel less alone. The tape was near full, so we would rewind and record over our conversations periodically. I eventually rewinded the tape a little too far, and that's when things got strange...

I heard him say things. disturbing things. I managed to repress the worst parts, but I could have myself on the floor weeping in terror at this very moment just thinking of the the horrors of which he'd speak. So I'll build a basic mental picture for you instead, think of a moment of utter silence, coupled with complete darkness. Then image inconsistent whispering that would at times come from a far, to moments later stewing right into your ear... they terrify you.

You want the voices to just say what they have to say loud and clear and stop, but they send quite chilling sounds. It was much worse than that, but I don't have a few days and a thesaurus to accurately depict what I heard from that child that night.

He would go on and on, every statement more unnerving than the last. As he would explain in detail these actions and feelings I heard a grin in his voice. It made me sick, though sitting on a clump of dirt, It was the contents of that tape that made me feel disgusting.


He must have known I had been listening to his tape, because I heard him utter "Olen nyt kanssasi," which means "I am with you." He then closed the hole up and left. I felt his presence wash over me.

It started in my toes, they suddenly felt cold. It traveled up my legs, I felt the hair needle up as it ran to my abdominals, ending at the tip of my head leaving me with his sayings seemingly echoing in the confined space of that pit.

It was that day morning father found me slowly shaking in the fetal position when he dug me out, he asked to see my tape recorder, I told him I must have broken it. He asked if Kantavieras would stay away for a while, I responded . Although my father left me that night, my Kantavieras was finally with me.

After all, it's not healthy for a little boys to have imaginary friends.

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