By: M. R. Vega
† These are the recordings of Joel D. Braunagh. Patient #19-374222. Case #9119 Det. Milton # 617
Date/Time – May 14th, 2009, 8:00 p.m.
Pt. #19-374222 J.D.Braunagh
-+- Evening Joel. Once again, for general purposes, I am Detective Rachel Milton. This is a recording of Joel’s discussions with me, over a divulging of details about the box, the altercation between Michael Braunagh; the brother.
-+- Night three Joel. Are you ready? Can we do this tonight? At least the box, please?
— I already told you I’d tell you, I’ll share everything. It’s going back and tracing the steps that knocks the f*** out of me. Leaving me completely drained and more than frustrated, it’s more than agonizing to separate that frustration with the law and the obvious situation that has me here. But of course, that’s not sensical to any of you, is it? But I already confessed to everything. I did it sorrowfully but willfully, taking the accountability for the loss of all three because it’s my hands that created the situation. It’s bad enough that I don’t get to put them in the ground!
-+- Joel as a matter of fact, its a legal right for you, they’ll let you go to each funeral. But, we need to get this documented; we need to know, like I keep telling you. Deal?
— Well that is a horse of a different f****** color ain’t it? Not that it was our plan to begin with, burying that is. I think we both wanted to become ash, like what we came from. At least, *sigh* it wasn’t set, not yet, we hadn’t even bought plots yet. Sorry, (sucks on teeth), I digress sorry, god I f****** miss her.
‡ Joel grabs at the nape of his neck and rocks back and forth for a moment grimacing at the tile beneath his obnoxious orange gel slides.
-+- I’m sorry Joel. Truly but we do need to know what happened. What was it that happened after Luca died? (I pause for a moment, waiting to see that register, he doesn’t stir, doesn’t blink, or really pay mind), What happened, aside from the magazine collecting Joel, you’re a toy maker, the most you’ve done is what? Wind-em-up toys or pullbacks is that what they call these?
‡ I pull out a small plastic duck with wheels from out of my blazer pocket. I pull it back pressing against the surface of the floor table desk and let go. I do this, position it to tap against his prison shoe, and when it hits it, he looks down, looks at me, sighs heavily nodding his head.
— Yes and no, the person who made the ducks actually, her name is Jessica Stewart, I wasn’t ever really a big fan of her craft but we worked in the same tier level.
— Anyway, no, I did more than just the simple machine type of toy, we had a production line that was similar to magnetic tiles but made sounds, and we were in the process of an interlocking block system that was definitely going to bring us to court with Lego, but I guess it doesn’t matter. (He grimaces again, shakes his head with a face that looks of disgust.) But no I…I did action figures, I did the molding, I did some robotics but on a minute and basic level and no I…I…just happened to stop, I didn’t do anything for a while. You, *sigh*, I don’t know how to put it because I didn’t just lose my boy Rachel, I lost the fire of my life. It wasn’t until after Luca’s death, that had me realize truths to what Celeste and I were. We became a stagnant mass of gelatin together and alone. She loathed me and I the same with her but then cowered back with a loving embrace because we were alone. What with him passing away there was such a resounding loss in the both of us…that my wife and I, we couldn’t, she couldn’t escape. It was more like being shot into space knowing no one would catch us…we were just alone, together, of course.
— But, it’s not the same…it’s not the same. It was never going to be the same and this wasn’t just killing Celeste, it was wreaking havoc on the mental health of our baby girl who now, had nothing.
‡ Joel grabs the small duck, pulls back a distance further than expected and lets go of the toy, leaving the duck sailing toward my feet and under my chair. He gives a meek smile. And continued…
— We were both well aware of Zappy; the little five years old and her curious mind. She had a bit of an inclination of what actually happened though and just knowing that her brother was gone had deeply resonated within her and Celeste and I didn’t come to help build her up. We were too busy inside ourselves. But we did tell her that Luca went for the long sleep, she understood but kept saying he’d come back. That was until the ‘sealing‘ happened.
-+- The sealing? Can you elaborate…you know I’ll have more questions to that Joel, what is that, the sealing?
— Relax, I’m getting to it.
— Promise
‡ Joel smiles, he’s starting to get moderately comfortable.
— But as parents, we tried to…we carried it as best as we could but we stayed silent, we had become those that loved one another indefinitely, but somehow allowed the grief to eviscerate the idea of anything else but loss and the idea of Luca not being here. I lost myself, I was put on suspension with my job and started letting my team down, my activity at work severely lessened where I started running behind with everything. I started losing weight, even went so far to malnourish her due being blind. That’s how negligent and calous we were. But then thankfully Michael came.
-+- Okay, so your brother was involved, your brother was a happy extension of the family and obviously had helped, with what I’m assuming, all of it?
— Yeah exactly, he took me down into the basement and saw the stacks of magazines, copper wires, more metal sheets, bolts, crystal shards, more wire, and metal. Oh, and piled up earth magnets that were likely causing everything above us to go on the fritz and just held me.
‡ Joel let out a heavy sigh and visible tears were falling from his chin. They’d occasionally pool and hang for a moment in his meek goatee and fall soaking the gels wrapped around his feet
— I let everything out, I melted in his arms and lost the ability to stand, and I think Michael knew, he knew how far gone Celeste and I had gone with just the entirety of our loss. So him showing up when he did, well it was bound to happen, I’m grateful it did, but at the same time, sorry that it did and I don’t get to tell him that.
-+- How long did he stay with you?
— A couple months until he thought he was seeing that we were getting back on our feet, he did help me keep my job, but he had also had some issue with what I was trying to make in the basement.
-+- The box, okay so Michael had nothing to do with the box?
— No, not a f****** chance, no, he thought what I was trying to do was idiotic, and thought I was being more than a fool, I don’t know, obviously he wasn’t wrong, look at where we’re at. What I’m f****** wearing, these are god damn jellies on my feet. This is ridiculous, I get it, and I know why, I’m just venting for a moment.
-+- That’s okay, I get it. Honest. -+- Not wanting to be somewhere when it’s needed but if the opportunity arose, you’d be gone…trust me, Joel I get it.
— Yeah, okay Rachel, okay. Anyhow, back to Michael, he was seeing that we were okay but there was something off…something dauntingly trepidatious, especially for Celeste. Sadly neither of us saw…‡ Joel inhales sharply through clenched teeth…I don’t know how we missed it. She must be a hell of a thespian.
— Anyhow Michael was seeing that she couldn’t handle the second floor hallway on her way to the Master bedroom, it went right by Luca’s open door and it wrecked her every f****** day, every moment that called for going anywhere near, which was always. She had become frail, nearly a different woman, her eyes sunken in, her cheeks shallow and pale, eyes near glossed and she looked more than haggard. Celeste was becoming a broke form of what she once was and all we thought was something so simple. How do we close the room off?
— Brick and mortar was the answer and we started the next day, for a brief moment it looked like a scene from The Cask of Amontillado, brick and mortar, brick and mortar. We had the door and a good three feet in sealed up and off and drywalled over that leaving us an extended hallway as though it had always been there.
-+- And did this help?
— Mmm, for a bit Detective, maybe a month, maybe two, enough that I finished the box.
To be continued…
Dream Dark Stories 