So... Something very strange has been happening. Let me explain
My girlfriend died on the 7th of August, 2012. She was involved in a three car collision
driving home from work when someone ran a red light. She passed away within minutes
on the scene. We had been dating for five years at that
point. She wasn’t big on the idea of marriage (it felt archaic, she said, gave her a weird
vibe), but if she had been, I would have married her within three months of our relationship.
She was so vibrant; the kind of girl that would choose dare every time. She was happiest
when camping, but a total technophile too. She always smelled like cinnamon.
That being said, she wasn’t perfect. She always said something along the lines of,
“If I kark it first, don’t just say good things about me. I’ve never liked that.
If you don’t pay me out, you’re doing me a disservice. I’ve got so many flaws,
and that’s just part of me.” So, this is for you Em: the music she said she liked
and the music that she actually liked were very different. Her idea of affection was
a side-hug. She had really long toes, like a chimpanzee.
I know that’s tangential, but I don’t feel right discussing her without you having
an idea of what she was like.
Now, onto the meat. Em had been dead for approaching thirteen months when she first messaged me.
September 4, 2013. This is when it began.
Hello Who is this?
It's really weird receiving messages from Emily's account
Okay, well, in the future please send me messages from your account even if you wanna discuss
her page hello
Susan? You're on Emily's account
Ok so, to explain; I had left Emily’s Facebook account activated so I could send her the
occasional message, post on her wall, go through her albums. You know, stuff like that. It
felt too final (and too un-Emily) to memorialise it. I ‘share’ access with her mother Susah.
Which really means, her mother has her login and password and has spent a total of approximately
three minutes on the website (or on a computer, total). After a little confusion, I just assumed
it was her.
November 16th, 2013.
Hello let's hit up the trail this Sunday
Who the fuck is this? the wheels on the bus....
Please tell me who you are
I had received confirmation from Susan that she hadn’t logged in to Em’s Facebook
since the week of her death. Em knew a lot of people, so I instantly assumed this was
one of her more tech savvy ‘friends’ fucking with me in the worst way possible.
I noticed pretty much immediately that whoever was chatting with me was recycling old messages
from Em and my’s shared chat history.
The ‘the wheels on the bus' comment was from when we were discussing songs to play
on a road trip that never eventuated. ‘hello’ happened a million times.
Around February 2014, Emily started tagging herself in my photos. I would get notifications
for them, but the tag would generally always be removed by the time I got to it. The first
time I actually caught one, it felt like someone had punched me in the gut. ‘She’ would
tag herself in spaces where it was plausible for her to be, or where she would usually
hang out. I’ve got screenshots of two (one from April and June; these are the only ones
I’ve caught, so they’re a little out of the timeline I’m trying to write out):
Around this period of time, I stopped being able to sleep. I was way too angry to sleep.
She would tag herself in random photos every couple of weeks. The friends who noticed and
said something thought it was a fucked up bug; I found out recently that there have
been friends who have noticed and didn’t say anything. Some of them have removed me
from their Facebook friends list.
At this point, some of you may be wondering why I didn’t just kill my Facebook profile.
I wish I had. I did for a little while. On days when I can’t get out there, though,
it’s nice having my friends available to chat. It’s nice visiting Em’s page when
the little green circle isn’t next to her name. I was already socially reclusive when
Em was alive; her death turned me into something pretty close to a hermit, and Facebook and
MMOs were (are) my only real social outlets.
On March 15th, I sent what I assumed was Em's hacker a message.
Why are you doing this? Why do you keep tagging her?
On March 25th, I received an ‘answer’. Hello
Hello Hello
Hello This is actually devastating
I don't know why you enjoy doing this Omg cinnamon scented candles!
Go to hell Why are you doing this?
It wasn’t until I was going over these logs a few months later that I noticed she was
recycling my own words as well.
My response seems kind of lacklustre here. I was intentionally providing him/her with
emotional ‘bait’. Saying things like "this is actually devastating, etc, to keep them
interested in their game; I was working off the assumption that the kind of person to
do this would be the kind of person that would thrive on the distress of others. I was posting
in tech forums, looking for ways to track this person, contacting Facebook. I needed
to keep them around so I could gather ‘evidence’.
Before anyone asks, yes, I had changed the password and all security info countless times.
On the 16th of April. I receive this. We should make our own jam
JFC Samantha Nah, different
No chance of passing No chance of passing
How many? Garage side door
side i
no chance of passing This seems like word salad. Like all of our
conversations so far, it’s recycled from previous messages she’s sent.
29th of April. baked beans on toast
i dunno. I just said "yo ask Nathan' Nathan'
Nathan' Nathan
I don't know what's happening I don't know how you're still doing this
please stop
please stop i dont know what's happening
Nathan I don't know what's happening
I hadn’t discovered any leads. Facebook had told me the locations her page had been
accessed from, but since her death, they’re all places I can account for (my home, my
work, her mom’s house, etc). My response here wasn’t bait. ‘yo ask Nathan’ was
an inside-joke way too lame worth explaining, but seeing ‘her’ say it again just absolutely
fucking crippled me. My reaction in real life was much less pretty. I’m not expecting
my bond back.
Her last few messages had started to scare me, but I wouldn’t admit it at this point.
8th of May. I really don't have words for this.
I I
-12 -15
My jumpers in the dryer and it's really cold out
really cold out cold
cold nathan
please stop i
cold fre eezing
i don't know what's happening ‘FRE EZIN G’ is the first original word
that she’s (?) made. This has given me nightmares that have only started to kick in recently.
I keep dreaming that she’s in an ice cold car, frozen blue and grey, and I’m standing
outside in the warmth screaming at her to open the door. She doesn’t even realise
I’m there. Sometimes her legs are outside with me.
24th of May. I'm really drunk
I miss you whoever's on this acount, I don't give a fuck
I keep coming from work and expecting to see you at the computer
Shouldn't I be used to that by now? Just let me walk
I wasn’t actually drunk. She wasn’t an affectionate girl, and it always embarrassed
her to exchange ‘I love you’s, cuddle, talk about how much we meant to each other.
She was more comfortable with it when I was boozed up. I got fake-drunk a lot.
Her reply is what prompted me to finally memorialise her page, thinking it might help curb this
behaviour. It might seem innocuous compared to her previous message - it’s pasted from
an old conversation where I was trying to convince her to let me drive her home from
a friend’s.
In the collision, the dashboard had crushed her. She was severed in a diagonal line from
her right hip to midway down her left thigh. One of her legs was found tucked under the
backseat.
Going back in time. 7th of August, 2012. This, alongside a couple of voicemail messages,
is the last time I talked to her under the assumption that she was alive
Hey, you on your way home? Emily
When you see this message please ring me straight away
i rang and they said you left at 4 i'm starting to panic
i feel sick in my stomach. please please ring me
Emily Emily
Answer your phone These are logs from the day she died. She
was usually home from work by 4.30. You’ll see why I’m showing you these soon.
Yesterday. 1st of July, 2014. Hey, you on your way home?
Emily When you see this message please ring me
straight away please stop
i rang and they said you left at 5 im starting to panic
please stop cold
Emily Emily
answer your phone i don't know what's happening
cold FREEZING
I memorialised her page a couple of days after I received the message about walking. Until
today, she’d been quiet; she wasn’t even tagging herself in my photos.
I don’t know what to do anymore. Do I kill her memorial page? What if it is her? I want
to puke. I don’t know what’s happening.