Intro
A collection of photos taken by an unknown figure
Dear Dr. Camila Brown,
I hope this letter finds you well and I hope you can forgive me for intruding on your privacy by not asking you directly if it would be appropriate for me to send you this letter.
But I hope you understand that contacting you to begin with isn’t the easiest, and rightfully so. I’m sure you must have received a large number of quack inquires regarding your expertise.
Nevertheless in the spirit of showing you my hands, a professor of mine Dr.XXXXX ,and self proclaimed former friend of yours, gave me your mailing address and instructions on how to send it to you. He told me to ask you how your “Lemon meringue donuts” Turned out. He said that would be enough for you to know who had referred me. And yes he did do the air quotes around “Lemon meringue”…
Anyways, I hope that was enough to haze me and you can take a look at my letter with a more serious gaze.
What am I looking at?
No honestly what am I looking at, all the photos I leave enclosed in this envelope appear like just black squares. But like, a perfect black. Looking at them for too long hurts my eyes and gives me a migraine for days after. I don’t believe I can adequately describe just how dark these images are. They are just pure black squares, but even the color black cant really describe just how devoid of “information” the images are. But I guess that’s why XXXXX thought this would be interesting enough to justify contacting you.
In closed in the envelope are the negatives from the developed 35mm film roll and set of wet processed prints. Trying to print them using a computer or printer just caused both to shut off and then begin to smoke. (I hate to say I broke a few printers before giving up)
How did I even get these photos?
When I first arrived to Bennington there was the traditional tour of the campus where the admissions team lead us around and showed us points of interest on campus. On our way up to the music building there is a row of houses which were used as living arrangements for faculty. If you look past the beauty of these cottages, behind the lush tree line, and look into its dark maw; you will notice a barn. What once was a vibrant red barn which housed animals and their upkeep for the colleges early beginning, is now nothing more a forgotten memory of the colleges past.
Shortly after our tour was over and once we were allowed to wander to our hearts content, I went to get a closer look. The windows to the barn where hazed over to the point where you couldn’t see in side with even the harshest of sunlight, that which remained of the former paint was nothing more than a suggestion of its once vibrant veneer, and its now miserable attempt at a court yard was overgrown with vines and weeds knee high. Yet its doors where open. In the darkness of its shadow something called to me, called me to walk into its black heart and feel its warmth. Now while I would call myself a person of sound mind and heavy reasoning, I have no better words to say than to admit I was put into a trance. However this was not a trance of fairytale or of mystique, there was no whisps of magic, no sound which inebriated my senses, no hallucinations of a loved one which beckoned me to leave my senses. There was nothing but the resolute need to go inside.
As I was about to enter my phone began to ring, and the spell was broken. A friend of mine had invited me to hang out with them and some other freshman and I left the embrace of the barn. Years pass until I felt its song tug me towards its hearth.
On a November evening I decided to gather a good friend of mine to accompany me, thinking the company of another would somehow quiet the siren. Under the guise of a “haunting” photo shoot we grabbed our cameras and made way towards the barn. In truth nothing was out of place as we went up the hill, no dark omens to detour us from our path. We made our way to the back of the barn and stepped in side.
And what can I say, I was disappointed. Walking in all the alure and mystique which once gripped me like a vice had vanished. Nothing was odd besides the large amount of doors and unending dust. While I may have been let down, my friend was ecstatic at how creepy and secluded it was. What better scenery for dark and chilling photos than everyone’s favorite horror movie backdrop. Letting the years of alure fall off my shoulders, we began taking pictures. Relics from the colleges past littered the floor like an unkept museum.
Finished sifting through the entrance of the barn, we found a latter which led us into its hayloft. Breaching the top of the latter I couldn’t help but notice how quiet it had become. The rushing of wind nor the howling of wolfs could have cut through these walls. Its as if we have entered a place isolated from the rest of reality, devoid of movement.
Going through the clutter we noticed boxes and boxes of old newspapers and fliers centered around the campus. From the opening of Welling, the announcement of allowing male student to attend, to the town shaming the school for allowing students to move in during the pandemic. It wasn’t until we saw its living area that my blood froze in my veins.
Captured in the realization that we had stumbled upon someone’s home, and they where either still here or coming back. I felt something brush up against me, I yelled and turned around, stumbling and falling on my ass in the process. But there was nothing but darkness where I stood. Realization setting in, XXXX pulls me to my feet and we rush our way to the entrance. Not quite appreciating the age of the barn, we jump down the latter and as if on que; it breaks. A large plume of dust engulfs us and I feel a searing pain on the back of my head, my body beats my brain and before I know it, i’m up. I reach around me in the dark for XXXX, finding her and in a few large strides we burst through the entrance and into the cold silent night.
Not wanting to wait for our axe murderer, we ran back to her room and slammed the door behind us. Upon collecting our thoughts and seeing that we weren’t being chased, I realized I was missing my point and shoot. But I was fine trading the camera for our lives. Refusing to believe we had stumbled upon somethings den, we looked at each other and busted out into laughter, brushing off our experience as a product of our imagination. A very “Should have seen the look on your face” kind of moment.
The following morning I went back to the barn to look for my camera, but upon returning the doors had been closed. All the entrances closed and locked from the inside. I sigh and accepting the loss of my camera I go about my day.
Months pass until the beginning of summer break approaches, and wanting a camera to take snapshots of the coming vacation, I make my way back to find my camera. With the alure and fear long gone I make my way to where we had fallen. In stead of finding my camera on the floor, I find it sitting on the window seal, with a few rolls of film placed neatly beside it. Thinking some faculty member must of found it and placed it there, leaving it for its owner to return, I pocket my camera and film leaving the barn for good.
It wasn’t until I developed the roll that i realized the camera and its photos no longer belong to me. Upon developing the photos, and seeing the silky black negatives come out of the chemical bath, I rush to my photography teacher to see if I had developed the film incorrectly. Coming back to the lab I look for my camera but it was no where to be found. The only proof of my findings where the negatives in my hands.
In hindsight I wish I never scanned the photos. I wish I could have assumed they where just poorly developed and had just left them for whatever took my camera to take them from me too. But my curiosity got the best of me, and keen to rid myself of this putrid shackle, I scanned them to see if I could get anything out of them.
If photos are to look into the soul then the following I share with you show something wholly intangible. I hope you can understand them, god knows I cant and maybe that’s for the better.
I hope you can shed some light into what’s going on, any clarity would much appreciated, I need some closure to this. Lately i’ve been seeing these pure black squares pop in and out of my vision, even in my sleep I cant escape them. At first it was out of the corner of my eye, like a dead pixel on a screen, but its getting bigger, closer. And i’m scared of what happens when they reach me, maybe this is all in my head and I need to go back to my therapist, but something just doesn’t feel right.
I was told to write “return to sender” and thats how you will respond to me?
But honestly Ill just leave all my contact information bellow,
My phone number is (XXX)XXX-XXXX
My email is XXXXXX@gmail.com
and my address is XXXX XXXX Texas XXXX XXXXX
or if you plan on visiting Dr.XXXX soon you can leave it with them.
Um enjoy? I dont know this is weird, sorry.
With warm regards,
Thank you for your time.
Return to sender