Statement of Brandon Sheffield aged 37 regarding co-worker Eric Brittle
Eric had been acting oddly, but... no more oddly than is usual. I mean... people get edgy between vacations and an odd face or lingering stare is nothing to get up in arms about... Eric was a work colleague and if I had to guess was around 7ish years older than me? He had been at the company for around 6 years and I had been there for three. We worked near one another but were part of different teams occasionally collaborating on projects.
Well, Eric had invited me and my girlfriend out to his place for a barbeque, and after checking with Marcie, my girlfriend, I accepted... I mean, the day and the evening was normal...
He... I mean.. I'm getting ahead of myself. I can't tell you how fundamentally mundane everything was... his teenage kids were polite, but standoffish, quickly retreating to their rooms after dinner was served. Eric was quick to offer me a beer and matched my pace, nothing out of the ordinary there...
It wasn't until night fell that he unraveled...
I want to tell you, I've had friends come to me for advice and help in the past... I have dealt with couples cheating... and have seen the desperate eyes before... seeking redemption, forgiveness, seeking to go back... but... this, this was... I, I don't know how to describe it.
Eric had become edgy over the last hour and a half or so... he seemed to take much relief as I was acquiescent to his desire to go to the garage for a smoke. I don't myself but wouldn't hold him hostage in his own house. Eric lit his cigar and puffed heavily upon it for a moment before engaging in what would be considered, normal small talk.
Moments later he stalled, but at this point he had no countenance of a suburban dad enjoying a smoke with a work colleague on a Friday evening... his eyes... I can't shake them. They stared into me, desperate, pleading for an answer all along his story...
He didn't start this way mind you... if he had I'd have surely discounted it and gone home, or left him to his ruminations and retreated back to the kitchen where the women were discussing things that made sense and cleaning up after the party. No, it was a slow and pervasive itching that captured your attention only when it was too late to do anything about it...
We entered the garage and he opened the door, the cool fall air rushed in and offered a welcome respite. Eric had lit up his cigar and apparently I wrinkled my nose because he agreed it was a disgusting habit, Despite this he offered me one which I declined, and he went back to puffing. We discussed work happenings and aspects of life and eventually he was done with his cigar and turned to cigarettes to occupy him during our conversation.
Again I must have shown disgust outwardly, as he smiled and nodded extending the package, as if to say, you may not like it but that doesn't mean you don't do it... I have thought much on the liking and doing aspects of my life since... but back to the relevant story....
We drank and chatted and as the evening wore on his eyes seemed to dart around the room and conveyed that something else was going on, beyond the light discussion of raising teens or maintaining a house... finally I called attention to it asking if he was all right...
His eyes intently locked onto mine, it was... unnerving to say the least and after eyeing me up and down he began his story. It was a torrent of words but after recounting the story, the narrative at least fell into place... I didn't suspect he was a threat to himself or others, just, maybe dealing with stuff strangely, so I didn't raise any attention... maybe he was writing a book and his darting eyes were his brain coming up with ideas... I don't know but his manner and intensity kept me planted and listening.
"It was summer, some friends and I had time to kill and no money to spend so we were passing the time loitering at the Wally Market. We made a game of asking people the time. You see, we'd watch them shuffle their phones and keys around and when asked some of them would ignore the phone in their hands and look at their watch. It was easy for us to laugh at them and call them stupid and... well I guess I never considered how I was acting..."
"I mean we all do dumb things as kids and that was years and years ago, you've grown since then." I offered as a comfort, not realizing he would take this as a slap in the face.
"No. No. No! You don't understand!" He said with agitation for the both of us. "It was my turn... MY turn to pick someone to make fun of and I picked an idiot walking up in a hoodie in the middle of summer. Surely it would be extra easy to make fun of him, and it was, and we did..."
Eric was quite agitated at this point and the only way I thought I could calm him down was to let him get it off his chest... and this is the part that is either plain crazy talk or alludes to things well beyond my understanding but hopefully within yours? (Brandon shifted nervously in his chair.)
I gave permission for Eric to continue, he seemed to be needing it, and he continued with a torrent of a story.
I insulted his hoodie wearing in summer. I called him grandpa and asked if he was here for the Christmas in July sweater sales. I don't know why, but I clung to the idea he was an old man. He was walking briskly and instead of going into the store he walked past me and just said, "Follow me." and I did. I don't know why I did but I just did. We rounded the corner and he just started talking like we were old friends catching up. I think somewhere he asked about my hobbies and it was mesmerizing. I think a kid peeked around the corner while we were chatting and I think that kid used to be my friend but I no longer recognized him nor him me...
When we were done talking I walked out to the parking lot and left. It was three or four days before I realized I was living the life of a 40 something year old suburban dad. I should have turned 17 sometime in September... the details are fuzzy. Instead I'm trapped as this old, overweight, smoker and nobody would believe me if I told them the truth. I even find it hard some days... I can recall Eric's life with ease, his anniversary, the birth of his children, how to do taxes. But then the kids say something and I know what it means... but Eric doesn't, wouldn't, and I remember I'm trapped. All because I picked on an old man who maybe wasn't all that old, or maybe wasn't a man...
Recorder's Notes: This Statement was miss filed under hauntings and has only recently been researched.
Attempts to reach out to Eric Brittle have been fruitless, furthermore, Ashley Brittle has been uncooperative regarding any comments surrounding her husband who has disappeared July the 17th.
Public records show a missing persons report having been filed for Eric and his vehicle was recovered on the other side of town with no evidence of foul play. Additionally Ashley raised harassment complaints shortly after the disappearance of her husband saying a young male voice she didn't recognize was apologizing and saying he can't be her husband anymore but he still loves her and the kids.
Follow up with Brandon was equally fruitless. He seems to bear only the faintest recollection of Eric Brittle and remembers him as a decent worker but does not recall any friendly gatherings outside of work.
It is my opinion that Eric is most likely a mentally ill man who's grasp of reality has been slipping for a while. As intriguing as an encounter with a being that could alter the fabric of reality and daily life is, Ockham's razor leads us to accept that the man is simply sick and possibly having a midlife crisis. Perhaps more will come of this in time, but I doubt it.
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