Thursday, February 7, 2013

Don't Peek

I don't know who wrote this journal. I found it in one of the old dusty boxes in our basement. Only the first half of the journal contained written text. No dates were ever mentioned.  The second half of the book was filled with scribbles and the words "Don't Peek" seem to appear over and over again within the scribbles. I have re-produced the text here on my blog. Since the text is not dated, I have separated them into numbered entries where I have discerned that they were written on different occasions. If anyone knows anything about the people or places mentioned, please let me know...Thanks.


I was never one to care too much about death of strangers. But my overly enthusiastic friend Metias thinks otherwise. I’ve never met someone so fascinated by unsolved murders, serial killers, and peculiar suicides.

Though I may not share his passion, he has such strong conviction about the subject that I cannot help
but admire his spirit. He fancies himself a detective and in his spare time, attempts to unravel unsolved
police cases. Such is his passion. He then tells me all about it…with a giddy smile across his face. I must
admit, his stories were fun.

Of course, I wouldn’t be writing here if something less than strange happened recently. It all began when Metias returned from his latest escapade. He had gone for vacation to a seaside hotel. But not just any seaside hotel. It used to be an old lighthouse, situated at the top of a hill overlooking the ocean. It held no more than 5 rooms. The view of the sunrise over the big blue ocean on a cloudless day brought tears to the eyes of many a guest…or so says the brochure.

Anyway, Metias didn’t go there for the view. There was something else about the place that
caught his attention. A few months before he left, he told me that he has been following the “Grinning
Suicides” pretty closely. I only vaguely heard of the grinning suicides before this. Three men with no
discernible relation to each other, died within the space of the past 2 years, seemingly by suicide And they share something else in common.

They died with a huge grin on their faces, hence the coined term “Grinning Suicides”. And from the
official report, they all seem to have a penchant for comedy because within their stash of belongings,
police found plenty of videos, books and recordings on jokes, stand-up performances and general
humorous material.

That’s where it should have ended. But Metias was boundlessly fascinated by these suicides and he
could barely contain his excitement when he told me that he found another link between these men.
They had all stayed in the lighthouse hotel at some point in time. The connection sounded very flimsy to
me but it was enough for Metias to go on another truth hunt.

Metias stayed at the lighthouse for merely a week. But he returned a changed man. We met for drinks a
day after his return. I braced myself for the inevitable outburst of excitement and animated gestures as
he tells me his findings. Or so I thought… Metias was uncharacteristically quiet. More shocking still, was
the way he looked. Normally trim and well dressed, he was unshaven and untidy, his face sunken and
pale. He looked like he hasn’t slept in days. He could barely hold a conversation and would not make direct eye contact with me. He actually looked like he was afraid of something. He kept asking me "Is she here?". Of course I tried to probe him on this strange question, but in the end he excused himself and left in a hurry.

Over the coming weeks he became progressively more disconnected and out of sorts, finally confining
himself to his house. I am worried for him.

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