[Apr 23, 02:32] Recorder — sleepless
[Note: I found some recordings on Alice’s phone. These are the original transcriptions; however, where I thought I could unscramble the garbled or inaudible sections I added my best guess at what was said or the source of the noise. ~a_boojum]
[voice speaking into the phone, just above a stage whisper]
Okay. Calmer now. Still can’t sleep, but.
[sigh]
Kyle would tell me that hate is a poison that harms me or something all Zen. That I need to let the hate go and just find a —
[male voice, inaudible]
[Alice louder, away from phone] Nothing. I just can’t sleep. I’m fine. Just… just needing some ti—
[male voice] —ust making sure you a—
I said I’m fine. Just need time to process. No. Don’t sit down. Alone.
[male voice, trailing away and inaudible]
Thank you, hon. I’ll be fine. Promise.
[a door closing?]
I am such a liar.
I don’t know if I’ll be fine.
I don’t know if I want to be. We’re all fucking liars, I guess.
I’ve started again. I thought I was done with it.
People always saw me as the Rock n’ Roll suicide of the school. They took a dead pool out on me, had me pegged for twenty-five. Tops. I believed them, I think.
I wonder if I get to claim that pool.
[quiet chuckle]
Wouldn’t that shock them if they found out I knew about their little prom bet. Judgmental fuckers.
Kyle wasn’t supposed to go before me. He was strong. Kind. Smart. Everything I’m not. He was —
[37 seconds of muffled crying, abrupt stop]
No. I won’t cry. Can’t.
Nils will wonder if he—
I need to make it stop.
I miss Kyle. Still. It’s been.
I don’t know.
People always called him Grendel. He was always reciting something from that battered old paperback copy of Beowulf.
I suppose they thought the nickname fit. He just laughed. He always laughed at the weirdest things.
I remember him when he was all metaled up. Long stringy hair. No makeup. No hairspray. Just a denim jacket he had altered with pins and patches, and some old square-toed biker boots he picked up at Tatters. Satan’s little soldier, mother would say.
The boots stayed. So did the nickname. Grendel. And our beloved mother’s pet name.
Kyle did Kyle, especially after he left our little house of horrors. I wonder if—
Yeah.
[running water. from a faucet?]
I wonder if I still have that mixtape somewhere that he gave me. I haven’t thought about it in.
Years.
Birthday present. He couldn’t afford a real one after he left the house. But he always checked in, even if dad said.
Said.
He’d shoot Kyle if he ever came around anymore. Didn’t want Kyle’s corrupting influence on his little girl. Wouldn’t want his little girl getting ideas she my—
[choked sob]
No.
No more crying.
The tape. Stuff like zymox [Clan of Xymox?]. And also the trees [And Also the Trees?]. And x mall [Xmal Deutschland?]. My fave.
He eventually bought me a copy of sickle moon. Used. Seven inch. The cover was scuffed, but you could make out dark red razor blade or whatever that was supposed to be on the cover. Maybe it was just a metal rectangle.
The vinyl though was pristine. Mint. Kyle would say.
I should dig it out and use the turntable that Nils absolutely needed to have. Play it again. Loved that song.
Whenever I listened to that song, it gave me hope that I could fly away on the wings of a raven. Follow Kyle.
Or.
[sigh]
It showed me there were other ways to escape. The moon. Stars. Undercover.
It was the best birthday present I could have hoped for in April. Even if I had to wait until October before the record finally arrived.
Funny thing, hope.
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