Chapter V

ASHLYNN’S FORUM POST

31 October, 7:20 A.M., titled “If you’re a family in NYC, never move here” in r/NYC –

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! 

It’s finally sunny after a fortnight of overcast gloom. I’d post how it’s a beautiful day, but not when an irate entity terrorizes your humble abode. We can’t stop Its rage, and soon It’ll swallow us whole. None of us slept due to rising waters. 3 hours ago, the water line sat at my vulva. Now it’s past my hips, accelerating the more displeased It is. What a petulant little thing.

Whatever– I needed a shower anyway! Believe me when I say it stinks like diarrhea. On top of this, centipedes, mice, roaches of all sizes, and spiders are swirling around in an unpalatable concoction. Entire nests have found their way into the lazy river. Piles of insects cascade from the ceiling. Some alive; some dead. They’re crawling around my armpits with some unlucky candidates writhing on my deltoids. Meanwhile, a swarm of ants ticklishly circle under and over my breasts. As a result, my nipples are being relentlessly nibbled. I don’t know how to feel, but I’m not complaining. I’ve never felt better. 

Bodily fluids, manure, feminine products, and leftover chicken foot soup brew in this rancid crucible. Menstruation tints the water red as Merlot, where excrement generates the most foul odor like maroon honeymooners assaulting your senses. A purée fit for the toothless. Without hesitation, I’m devouring the mix… tastes like Grandma’s mashed potatoes on Thanksgiving… astonishingly delicious. I can’t suppress my gluttonous frenzy. Recently painted wet walls dissolve into the stream, fusing with each ingredient of this stew. 

Why must it taste so DAMN good?!

I think… I think I just swallowed a fecal pellet, and a flotilla is heading my way. The stool softener containers are swimming like a school of fish. The motion and velocity paint a mesmerizing feast for the eyes during such turmoil. It’s one drop of beauty in the vast, ugly expanse. Through the murky water, Lorelei beckons for my participation. The basement transformed into an extension of the sewer system, and it’s all my fault. It ALWAYS is Ashlynn’s fault! It’s fine, because the pump was a boon to my endeavors. I tried resisting the current, but I, too, joined the maelstrom. How…strangely liberating.

Whatever this “force” is, it influences more than just liquid. Every lightbulb simultaneously

shattered, plunging the home into oblivion. I’m using my flash whilst typing; brandishing my phone with reckless abandon. As always, the only true source of light is the minuscule window. Soon, it’ll serve no purpose other than being a view into the Underworld. We have a whirlpool comparable to Charybdis, and I’d rather be a seafarer dying at the hands of Scylla. I’m okay. I know what must happen. My uncle was supposed to retrieve his belongings at 9 AM, and luckily for him won’t need several car trips, or any for that matter…

Don’t dial 911 or send anyone here. If law enforcement tries to investigate, please use my post as documentation. Well, who am I kidding, you won’t need to. I’ve made a decision– one without a shadow of doubt. 

I locked the heavy-duty industrial doors and barricaded exits with furniture. As for my family, they’re currently seeking asylum in the boiler room. If you’re concerned, don’t be. They’re safe from It. With a single entrance, nothing can harm them. About an hour ago, I alerted Grandma that the boiler was acting awry and required inspection. 

I turned off the heat despite tenant complaints because I’m a good girl. I’m not about to create a sauna. To whomever stumbles upon my thread, a territorial Bombay rescue cat needs a new home. Against his wishes, he’s in a cat carrier with a note attached by the curbside. Please take good care of him. He deserves more than what we were able to provide. I’m sorry, Papito. You’ve done wonders for us, and I’m confident you’ll do the same henceforth.

Water is at my solar plexus. I switched to cellular data. My bedraggled journal floats among our possessions. A moment similar to a compilation of life flashing before your eyes; it feels like an ephemeral, romantic dream…

I envy my older brother, who escaped from this hellhole. He lives a normal life in Jersey, far removed from this lunacy. It’s not like I wanted children anyway, and what good is an oversaturated degree in a job market on the cusp of implosion? I wondered how I’d die. 

Here’s a silver lining: I’ll go out on my terms. I understand why Charlie chose us… because no other bloodline would’ve been as complacent– more naïve than our kin. An old family portrait bobs like a buoy six feet away. A memento of how I’m drowning in the aspirations of those who sought streets paved with gold. Fleeing a dictatorship to another broken, yet insidious system.

Marco, if you have children, then please stay away from the family.

The bile reached my chin. 

I’m about to ingest blood, feces, insects, piss and God knows what else is down here. 

A colony of silverfish seeked refuge amongst my drenched follicles. 

I’m surprised I haven’t been electrocuted yet. Maybe God IS on my side after all.

Perhaps… It wants to merge with us.

I’ve assimilated with the chyme… and embraced the boiling chyle. 

Esther, you’ve been a guiding light through the deep, dark blackness of outer space. May someone just as special bring you joy. Even after my demise, I’ll still love and find you again, and after my return to the stars, my warmth will be forever imprinted in your heart…

I’ll be consumed in a few minutes.

There won’t be air pockets, as the basement will be filled to the brim.

In time, my remains floating into the glass pane will be the only evidence of life in this aquarium– no, museum of dead ambitions and defecation.