White Noise

Please note: this story was provided by the author and published as is.

Listen to me…

Don’t react… Don’t respond…

Just listen to my voice… And more importantly, listen to the silence…

 

The date is May 11th, 2023. My name is Kevin Green. I was born on July 3rd, 1995, and a year ago… I went missing.

I know some people, especially my family, will want to know where I am, where I’ve been. They’ll want to know what happened and why I ran away. I’m sorry I haven’t reached out sooner, it’s just, I needed to get away. I need to be away. However, I don’t want to leave everyone only with questions, so I’m leaving this tape.

This… this will be a lot to unpack, more than you know, so please, before you do anything, before you go looking, just listen. Stay where you are. Don’t leave. Just listen, and you’ll understand…

I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough, but I am sorry. I know I have everyone worried right now, and I know they would have offered me help, but they can’t… I’ve already found the only help there is and until I’m rid of this thing- unless I’m rid of this thing, I can’t come home.

If it’s not obvious I’m currently living “off the grid” – more like thirty miles from any grid, but yeah. No running water. No electricity. Nothing. I can’t tell you where I am but I’m… I’m fine. I’ve been staying in a log cabin for seven- no, eight months now. Before that I was living out of a tent, which was… rough. I mean, it’s not like I’ve never been camping before, it’s just I’ve never been camping for this long.

As for the cabin, it’s nothing but an old hunting lodge. There’s a cot, a woodburning stove, and… that’s pretty much it. But, it’s enough to keep me warm.

The place belongs to a guy named “Harry”. Of course, that’s not his real name but it’ll do for introductions. Now Harry’s a seasoned hunter but he’s only out here once a year, and when I found the cabin it was off season, meaning he had left it unattended. However, I thought it was abandoned, and so the day he returned we were both a bit alarmed to find a stranger in our “home”.

Luckily Harry’s a nice guy and rather than shooting me, he asked me why I was here. I told him the truth – or most of it at least. I was honest about living in a tent and not knowing the place was his, but as for why I was out here, I lied. I told him I was trying to escape from “the prying eyes of big tech” which seemed to win him over.

I feel bad for lying to him, especially since he let me stay here and especially since he’s given me food. But I think if I told him the truth, he may not have been so kind…

Now listen, before you get any ideas, know that I’m no criminal. Hand to God, the worst thing I’ve ever done was run a red light. However, I am running from something… just not something I did. Of course, there’s almost no way for me to prove that, which is why I’m recording this…

Have you ever heard something that wasn’t there?

It’s called an auditory hallucination and – just bear with me for a moment – it’s a pretty common occurrence. Just about anything could set one off, whether that be stress, fatigue, and yes even psychosis. But you don’t need to be insane to experience something that makes you question your sanity. Hell, I’d say if you’re unsure that’s proof that you’re not insane, right? I mean, afterall, if you can tell something’s not right then at the very least you can guess what is.

But I’m not insane. And I’ll keep saying that until I’m blue in the face, because the reason I’m running is-

There! Did you hear it? No, don’t move! Don’t say anything…

… I think… False alarm…

But see? That’s what I’m talking about. There’s a limit to everything we can see and hear and at some point differentiating what’s there or not devolves into a guessing game.

You know the reason why so many websites make you do a CAPTCHA test? You know, “Prove you’re not a bot and click all the images that show a motorcycle,” that stuff. It’s because the human brain comes prepackaged with some of the best recognition software to date.

No, seriously! As smart as you think they are, computers are dumb. Sure they’re getting better, but the way they view the world is still only through 1’s and 0’s. As for us, we’ve got a whole handful of senses tuned to a million different details – a spectrum of colors, a platter of tastes, an array of sounds – and we’ve been training ourselves to recognize them ever since we were born. We look at a picture of a cat and then a picture of a plane and we know which is which – we see the shape and size and colors and the conclusion comes naturally. A computer looks at those and they see two long lines of binary text.

But what about static? Or what about a blurry image? Maybe you wear glasses – what happens when you take them off? Well, then it becomes harder to see. I mean, duh, of course, but that doesn’t stop us from trying…

Because even when it’s just a blur, even when you’ve reached the limit of your human software, your brain still tries. You might not be aware of it. After all, you’re barely aware of your digestion, breathing, circulation – all the things your mind does for you. But consciously or not, it’s processing everything, even when there’s nothing – your brain reaches beyond its limit and tries to recognize something it understands from something it can’t…

Now, I know I’ve been talking for a while and I still haven’t explained why I ran away, but I had to give some preface for what I’m about to say. And again, all I’m asking is that you listen. Before you assume anything, before you do something dangerous… just listen to everything I have to say… and without moving, without saying a word… listen to the silence…

I’m being followed. Or maybe it’s not like that, maybe I’m following it…

I don’t know what “It” is, but if I’m being honest… I don’t think it’s anything at all…

A- and listen, I know how that sounds but please, let me explain…

When I was a kid, my parents used to run a small cleaning business. It was a side gig mostly, a little extra income to help us get by. We didn’t have that much money so we took what jobs we could. And if those jobs were too hard for one person, well, then we’d all pitch in – me and my siblings included.

Now most of the places we cleaned were either apartments or rental homes but every other weekend we’d all gear up for our one major client. It was a two-story office space – I forget where it was – but it had maybe enough rooms for thirty or fifty people. Huge warehouse too. But since we cleaned it on the weekends and late at night, we were usually there alone.

Anyways, the building was pretty big, and to cover all that ground we’d have to split up. So, while my siblings and mom cleaned one floor, me and dad tackled the other.

It was our routine. And like with any routine it was easy to zone out. I could let my body run through the motions while my brain went somewhere else. Which I mean, what else was I to do? I had an old IPod but my cheap, plastic headphones were hardly good enough to silence a vacuum. And me and my family were so spread apart it’s not like we could talk. So more often than not, I went from empty office to empty office, cleaning and cleaning and nothing else.

Now, I could try and make you think that this office was haunted, or that there was some creepy killer lurking in the halls, but then I’d be lying. Truth is there had never been anything in that building to make me feel nervous. The place was well lit and besides some dated wallpaper, it looked totally normal.

And so, as I was vacuuming the floors, head down and unaware, I wasn’t even surprised when I heard my name.

I turned off the vacuum and replied…

But no one answered… So, obviously, I assumed it was nothing – that I only misheard. I turned the vacuum back on and moved to the next room. And it might have been as the vacuum caught on one of the rugs that I heard it again. My name.

Again, I turned off the vacuum and this time I stepped into the hall. Nothing…

You see, the thing about an auditory hallucination is that it usually sticks somewhere in-between what you hear and what you think you hear. You might call it a mistranslation. Consider a vacuum, when it’s running it’s all one, loud noise, and while you know it’s nothing, our brains are constantly listening, always interpreting.

Ninety-nine percent of the time you only hear noise… but sometimes, it sounds like something else…

It could sound like someone calling your name…

It could be a simple “hey” or “psst,” that turns your head…

It might even sound like someone you know…

But no matter what, no matter who, you must never go looking for it…

I’m lucky I turned off the vacuum. I’m lucky that sound wasn’t on when I went looking for it. Because if it was, I think It would have found me…

When I told my dad about it later, he shook his head. He was on the other side of the building, he told me, it was probably nothing…

And that’s when I learned about white noise, and how our brains sometimes mistake that smooth, empty sound for something else. My dad said it was normal. He said it was nothing to fear. And I believed him.

I mean, I lived with white noise every day. I went to sleep with a fan on high. I drove on a highway to get to work. I made calls with poor reception. So what if I occasionally heard something that wasn’t there? It was just my brain mishearing things.

That’s what I told myself for nearly twenty years. I lived with it. It was like a mole on my back, always there but painless and out of sight. It wasn’t until recently that I realized, it might be something more…

I had never been one to sleepwalk before. Nor have I ever been asleep while trying to climb a ladder, unscrew a vent cover, and crawl inside. And yet, that’s exactly what happened. Because, see, I don’t remember doing any of those things. I know that’s what happened, the same way I know that this morning I must have put on shoes, but do I remember that moment in detail? No. It was all one vague recollection, but one where each time I thought about it, it felt more and more like make believe. Why did I think there was someone in the vent? And why did I try to find them? The whole situation was absurd, too absurd, really. Because when the situation sounds impossible, the leading explanation looks like it too.

“It must have been something I ate,” “I had too much to drink,” or “I should have gotten more sleep.” I had a dozen different excuses primed and ready, barriers to stall me from facing the truth. But even as I was unwilling to accept it, the truth was still there…

I began sleepwalking more, even when I wasn’t sleeping…

Now it’s one thing to inexplicably find yourself standing on top of a ladder, climbing into the ceiling, while chasing after an inaudible voice, but when it happens more than once, your excuses lose their volume.

It wasn’t always the same vent, just how it wasn’t always at night when I caught myself halfway in the dark, cramped, confines of an air duct. I told myself it was something in the air – mold, probably – that was overriding my stable mind. And I clung to it. After all, it was always when the AC kicked on that the “voices” did too.

I complained to my landlords about it. I told them there was a “smell” coming from the vents – there wasn’t, but I knew they were more likely to consider my complaint than if I led with the ladder story. They checked it out, twice, but in both cases nothing but a rickety, old AC was found to be a problem. And that’s because the AC wasn’t the problem.

See, once or twice, I startled from a trance with my fingers on fire. Not literally, but they had been cut. No ladder this time, no vent. But for some reason I had stuck my hand into my bedside fan. And as crazy as it sounds I remember thinking I had to reach through it, and that there was something on the other side. Thankfully, the fan was only plastic, but even plastic can hurt like hell, spinning like a blade.

Was there mold in my apartment? Probably, it was old. But was this mold brainwashing me to conduct spontaneous acts of self harm? Was it speaking to me through the vents, the fan, and even the garbage disposal?

I was cleaning the dishes. I was hand-washing them because the last time I tried to use the dishwasher I unconsciously opened the door and flooded my kitchen. But as I was draining the sink, and as the blender was churning a storm, I thought I heard something…

I leaned in. A whisper was calling me…

There was something there – inside the drain – I just needed to get closer…

I’m lucky, because as I was reaching into the disposal, a fork fell inside. The grinding clatter was enough to wake me from the not-so-sleeping nightmare and turn it off. A few inches more and my hand would have been minced meat.

What was I doing?!  This wasn’t like me, this wasn’t me. I had never wanted to hurt myself, and anyone who knows me would know that too. And yet, I was a hair away from shredding my hand. Why?

I’ll tell you why. It’s this…

… You hear it? It’s right there. It’s easy to ignore if you’re not paying attention, but even if you are, it’s subtle. It’s quiet. It seems like nothing because really all there is is just…

White noise.

In some ways it was obvious, however I was a lot like you – rational. And to the rational mind, what I just said sounds insane! But is it? Have you ever heard something that wasn’t there? Are you insane? Now, I’m willing to bet if you ever misheard something, that “something” didn’t pull your hand down the drain or drag you into the vents, and you know what? Good on you.

That means you weren’t listening.

If you don’t listen, you can’t respond. And if you don’t respond, it can’t get you…

I thought I heard a voice. That’s what I kept thinking. Over and over, every time I was lured towards that… sound. I thought I heard a voice coming from the other side…

But the other side of what?

You see I made the mistake of trying to look for it. When I thought I heard something calling from the vents, I went looking. And it was that easy. It’s the smallest thing, choosing to do nothing, and yet it makes all the difference. Because you tread a thin line – your brain thinks it hears something when you know it’s nothing. But is it? How do you know? Who other than you can really decide?

You don’t go looking for nothing, but you do go looking for something…

My sister works with cancer patients, and she tells me the fight is never over so long as the patient believes they have a chance. I don’t know if it’s as easy as “believing,” but I know the way we act and how we think influences the outcome.

And so, I tried. Nothing else was working – I changed my sleeping schedule, I adjusted my diet, I cut down on drinking and work and every other stressor in my life – all of that, and I still heard the voices. And that’s because none of those things actually and directly confronted the issue… So finally, I tried the one thing I should have tried from the start… I ignored it.

When the fan whirred and whirred and then whispered my name, I reminded myself there’s no one there. When the AC kicked on and I heard something scream, I kept my eyes closed, I didn’t go looking.

I ignored it, and it worked… for a while…

For a while, I retained some control of my life, but it was so easy to slip. It’s hard, hearing something hidden in the background, but once you do, it’s even harder to ignore it. Front and center, it’s like someone chewing their food, clicking a pen, stuttering a word – it’s something you can’t unhear. And so I would slip, I’d turn my head, I’d respond… and that’s all it needed.

If you want to call this thing an “illness” then mine was getting worse. It was getting easier to slip, easier to fall into its trap and lose control. So, I tried harder. I didn’t just ignore it, I distanced myself from it. I stopped sleeping with a fan, I raised the AC so it didn’t kick on, I took my clothes to the dry cleaner and bought a roomba for my floors, all so that I didn’t have to be near that noise…

But it wasn’t enough. There was only so much I could do to ignore it and at some point I had to accept that this thing was trying to kill me.

That moment came little over a year ago, around August to be exact. Most folks will remember this day, because it’s the day I disappeared…

I was driving. Just before that I was apartment hunting. The weather was warmer than a heated blanket and as hard as I tried, I could only go so long in my apartment without the AC. The location didn’t matter, nor did the size – I just needed a place with a better unit, specifically a quieter one.

However, “appliance volume” doesn’t usually appear on an apartment’s resume, so I was going from place to place tinkering with their thermostats. “Just testing to make sure it works!” I said. But after a while of “testing” the tour guide gave me a strange look and ushered me out.

I visited six different apartments, but if you asked me, I couldn’t describe a single one. I might as well have been blind because the whole time I was only focused on what I could hear. Was there a railroad nearby? A highway? How many planes flew overhead? What did the water heater sound like? What about the shower? And how loud was the AC?

While inspecting each apartment for white noise, I did of course hear It. Whatever “It” was whispered and called and screamed for my attention. I fought to stay calm, to not turn around or lose control, and the whole time I was walking on eggshells – one wrong move, the slightest turn, and It would take over.

Every time I’ve fallen for its trap, I‘ve been alone. But what would happen if someone else was there? Would I turn violent? Would they call the cops? Would I hurt someone?

Just finish the tour and leave – That’s all I could think. It was truly a test of mental stamina, but I finished the last tour without incident. I got in my car, threw on my GPS, and at last I breathed in the silence…

And so I headed home. My little excursion had taken the whole day and sent me driving all over town. I had a 40 minute trek back to my apartment but with the radio on and my GPS to guide me, I felt like I could finally relax.

One minute I was driving home, and the next… I was drowning…

My lungs were shouting louder than I could think! My hands were still on the wheel but I was surrounded by water! Everything moved in slow motion yet I could feel the weight of the car dragging me down, down but where?! How?! How do I get out?! I tore at the seatbelt, but for some insane reason it was tied around my waist! Every nerve across my body was screaming at me to move faster, and I tried, I tried to untangle myself but I was stuck! Frantically I searched for something else, anything I could feel. My hands found the lever beside the seat and I pulled, kicked, and pushed until the chair slid back. Finally, there was room for me to wriggle free. The window had been rolled all the way down and so I was able to heave myself out, swimming and swimming until I made it out…

I didn’t know where I was. It was a lake, somewhere, and there was a bridge – the bridge I drove off. But my memory was fuzzy. I’m not sure what it was that set me off – maybe the road, the wind as I was driving, or maybe my radio hit a spot of static for just a moment too long – but the only thing I could remember was that I had to follow it…

I heard the voice as I was driving home, it led me to that bridge, it tied me down, it lowered my windows, and then it sped forward…

I’m not delusional, I wasn’t trying to take my own life – it was, but not me. It tried to drag me down and I escaped. I barely escaped and after I did, all I could think was when would it happen again? What if next time I can’t get out? What if next time it isn’t a lake but oncoming traffic? What if next time someone were sitting beside me?

I wasn’t safe – no one was safe – not while this thing still followed me. I couldn’t ignore it, I couldn’t push it away, and so I had to run…

I’ll save you the details, because they don’t really matter. I found my way home. I gathered my things, and then I headed out. Eventually, I found my way here.

You know, the thing about this old hunting cabin, the one thing I wish it had – more than a fridge or a working toilet – is a fan. God, I miss my fan. The bigger bed, the air conditioning, all of that was fine but man, some days I still have trouble sleeping. You get used to some things, you know? But out here, I finally have what I need… silence…

The city life, hell even rural life, could never offer me that. There’s noise everywhere. It’s all around you: the tractors and trucks and roads and railways, every machine, every device, the microwaves and treadmills and lightbulbs and washers, the televisions and radios and horns and sirens. It’s even on this recording…

… I thought about leaving a letter, I even wrote one out. But when I read it – hell, even I think I’m crazy. Which is why I needed you to hear it – that way you know I’m not insane, that way you don’t think I’m hurting or that there was anything you could have done to prevent this.

I don’t think you can prevent it. No more than any disease. You can wash your hands and get plenty of sleep but sometimes you still catch it… You just can’t feed it.

Don’t react. Don’t respond. Don’t go looking.

If you hear something that isn’t there, then stop listening…

Otherwise… eventually… you won’t hear anything else…

I thought I was safe out here, it felt like that for a while… But sometimes, when I’m around a fire or listening to the breeze… it sounds like someone’s whispering…

The other day I went fishing by the stream and I just started walking… I don’t know where I was going, just walking, following the water…

I was walking for five hours…

I’m leaving this recording and a note for Harry. If I’m not here when he returns… Well, now this recording is with you…

So, thanks I guess, for listening…

Goodbye…