Silent Hero

March 30th, 2024 (a.k.a. the stupidest day of my life)

Dear Diary,

What. The. Hell. This place is so weird. I know Dahlia wants us to 'reconnect' in time for mom's birthday (or something) but why did she have to choose a silent retreat? And if it had to be a silent retreat, why did it have to be such a weird one? The point is for us to start talking again--how can we do that if we're not allowed to talk? I've been here one afternoon, and here's just some of the stuff I've noticed:

1) The owners are named Justin and Justine. Yes, they're married. Childhood sweethearts, if you want to know. If you didn't, too bad--I didn't, but they told me anyway. I'm pretty sure they've had their smiles permanently sewn into their faces, and if either of them call me 'sweetie' one more time, I will hurl.

2) Apparently, yoga is a tool of Satan. That's what half the posters on every wall scream at you, loudly reassuring us in writing (but not words, for obvious reasons) that this is a yoga-free retreat! What a relief.

3) The other half of the posters insist that this is a secular venue where all faiths and cultures are welcome, so I don't think J & J actually know what yoga is.

4) When the 'silent' part began, they hit a gong and then we had to meditate on the perfection of nature while not moving a muscle. For three hours.

5) Worst of all, I have to keep a diary while I'm here. I do hope Justin and Justine read it.

Gail Martins, unwilling participant

___

March 31st, 2024 (how has it only been a day?!?)

Dear Diary,

Justin and Justine do NOT find it amusing if you start to do yoga poses during the after-breakfast meditation circle. One of the other guests, Harriet, found it absolutely hilarious. I swore they were going to kick her out for laughing so loudly. I'm pretty sure Harriet is here solely to make fun of the whole thing. She's older than grandma, but she's more supple than I will ever be. I know, because she joined in my insurrection. I wonder if she'd be interested in adopting a thirty-seven-year-old bartender?

Dahlia was not impressed. If she rolls her eyes any harder they'll fall right out of her head. She's made friends with her own old lady, Annie, who eats apples constantly and loudly enough that I'm surprised she hasn't invoked the ire of the Justin(e)s. Annie adores J & J. I think she does this instead of church. The four of us shared a table at lunch, and the iciness from across the kale platters had me in stitches.

Harriet and I learned to laugh silently today. Everyone else is perfecting the art of silent fuming. I might be starting to have fun.

Oh, one more thing. There's a TV here, an ancient thing, only gets the local news station, and we have to watch it with no sound, but the newscaster looked super shifty, and the pictures had captions with words like "NEW VIRUS?" on them. I can't do another COVID lockdown. Dahlia's the one who learns new skills when left to her own devices (I have eaten my fill of sourdough for the foreseeable future, thanks). I, on the other hand, am incapable of forming 'hobbies'. The closest I got was accidentally setting the couch on fire while testing how many cigarettes I could smoke at once.

Anyway, it will still be better than here.

Gail, etc.

---

Day 3 of Captivity and shit has gotten weird

So. Um. Apparently the diary thing is still mandatory despite everything that has happened. I'll choose to believe that J & J are just trying to reassure us by sticking to an established routine and are absolutely not mini dictators grabbing at power. If I believe hard enough then maybe, like with Tinkerbell, belief will become reality.

We gathered around to guess at what the news report was saying, just like we've done the last two evenings, except tonight the studio was in shambles, the newscaster's jacket was missing and his shirt ripped, and "VIRUS?" was replaced by "ZOMBIES!!" on every image. Pics of disheveled people shuffling through the nearby town. Full on Walking Dead.

Harriet thinks it's nonsense. Her face is so expressive--even though talking is still forbidden, I can clearly tell that she doesn't believe a word of it. I don't know what to think...

Bill, the retreat's token creepy middle-aged white guy, offered to go check out the situation, but J & J responded by locking all the gates 'for our safety' and insisting that the retreat will continue. We were supposed to go home today, but our car keys have gone missing and the codes changed on all the doors that lead outside. I'm playing along for now, but things have gotten weird.

Gail, queen of the Zombies, or something

---

Day 4, or is it 5?

Writing in our diaries continues to be mandatory. I am in the meditation circle right now being watched as I scribble. Everyone is too afraid to look up in case J & J interpret it as questioning them. I know I'm too afraid. This morning, Harriet spoke up. She said we all needed to stop being silly, unlock the gates, and get out there to see what's happening.

J & J threw her out. They made us all watch as they opened the main gate and pushed her through, without any of her things, a little old lady with no money or means of transport.

Justine wrote "SPEAKING = ZOMBIE FOOD" on the gate in red lipstick. Justin has a gun now. He patrols the grounds ceaselessly.

Their smiles are gone. I don't think they were ever really there to begin with.

Gail

---

April 3rd, 2024 and I can't do this anymore

Dahlia broke the rules today. When she thought Justine wasn't looking, she tore a page out of her diary and handed it to me. 'We need to get out' it said.

No shit.

Justin caught her. He was hovering behind a curtain, spying. His eyes are wild, now, and Justine's smile is back and is NOT an improvement. It looks more like a death grimace.

Dahlia's gone. They didn't make us watch them push her thought the gate, but I hope that's what they did. I would have heard a gunshot, I'm sure of it, this place is so damn quiet, oh god, I hope she's ok...

---

April 4th, 2024

Ok. Dahlia's gone. Harriet's gone. They could both be dead, but all that matters is that they're not here so why am I?

Ok me. Hear me out, me. Justin hasn't slept since this started. Look at him. And you know how to handle a gun. Get it away from him, shoot him if you have to...

No. I need one of them to give me the codes to get out. So, threaten to shoot him. Better yet, threaten to shoot Justine--he adores her, even if she for the most part seems indifferent to him.

Even if the zombies are real, I'd rather deal with them than this...

Ok. I'm doing it.

---

April 18th, 2024

Well, would you look at what the police gave me when they returned my possessions.

Stupid diary.

But it's probably therapeutic, or some shit. And if I write it down, I can just hand this dumb book to the next asshole who asks me what the hell happened, so...

My plan didn't exactly work. I got the gun, yes, but that damn Justine is stronger than she looks and she stole the gun back and shot me. Rude. I'm fine, obviously. Arm is still in a sling, but it's getting better.

The important thing is that Annie and Bill and some of the others took courage from my example and pounced on Justine. We'd all gotten good at moving silently--she didn't hear it coming. Once we had Justine, it turned out that Justin was the easy one to subdue. We stuffed them in a closet, found the codes on a post-it in Justin's office, and got the hell out of there.

We didn't say a word to each other, not a single syllable, until we got to town. For some reason, we walked. I don't know why. Our cars were all still there, and we found the keys when we found the codes. I think we were still in Walking Dead mode. Maybe we thought the engines would attract the zombies.

It took us nearly an hour to walk into town and when we got there...everything was fine. People were going about their business in the dreary, slow-paced way of small towns everywhere. The only thing that was out of place were the cop cars lined up along the street. One of the cops, in full riot gear, was backing away from Harriet and Dahlia, who had, it seemed, teamed up to get us help. They were yelling at him to get on with it because Justin had a gun and the retreat was basically a cult.

When I heard their voices, I found my own. I shouted something, I'm not sure it was a word, but when Dahlia saw me her face changed, like a million pounds of worry had dropped off in a single moment, and then she ran to me. She hugged me. I'm not sure we've ever hugged before, but I was weirdly fine with it.

Dahlia seemed annoyed about my blood getting on her clothes, but only for a moment. She let it go.

She never lets anything go.

I guess the retreat did mend our relationship. Why does Dahlia always get to be right?

Anyway, the rest is in the papers. The zombie thing was an April Fools hoax, and if I hadn't been so disconnected from the real world I would have guessed that in an instant. Harriet did. The local news station ran the fake story, then cut the town's power for, like, 10 seconds. Then they switched it back on again, and everyone had a good laugh (except for the eleven people suing the station for emotional trauma, I guess). The electrical mess that powers the retreat venue is SO OLD it didn't come back when everything else did, and, well, we all lost our minds a little.

Justin and Justine are in jail. I don't know what will happen to them, although I expect to testify.

Fun.

A documentarian of some kind is stopping by to talk about a potential Netflix thing, so I should probably find some pants or something. They're thinking of calling it Silent Hero which is SUCH BS, but also I'm totally into it.

Maybe I'll even read extracts from this stupid diary.

Gail Martins, THE Silent Hero