Wednesday, October 25, 2023
Dear Reader,
Moonlight. Slivery beams that cascade down through the trees to illuminate the world from the nighttime darkness. A little light in a hopeless moment. That is how I want you to imagine us. We want to be the moonlight in your life, if we aren’t already.
In case you are feeling confused, I’d like to clarify that you’ve found it, so good job. Whether you are a returning audience or brand new, you found the book with this letter folded up neatly on page 954. By the end of this letter, I’ll give you the code that will allow you to access the door, but I’d like to take a moment to explain things first.
I’m so glad you were able to find this. Because while we are the moonlight, you are the sunlight. Your sun rays beam down to give light, providing warmth in the process. We wouldn’t have moonlight without the sunlight and you are always consistent. You’re there every day, no matter the weather conditions. You’re not spacey like us. There’s no new sun and you still give light through the clouds. You inspire us to be our best even if we find it difficult because of our darkness.
I know that seems dramatic, but you are one of the good ones. You’re one of the people that inspired The Whitworth Drive Project from the beginning. And don’t have your doubts. You didn’t find this on accident. If you’re reading this, it is 100% intentional. Not to sound too paranoid, but we have to be safe and selective with who we give the code to enter the door because inside that door you will find our stories. And we can’t have just anyone reading them especially now that we’re being hunted.
Before I confuse you more, I must explain The Whitworth Drive Group, since you might be a new reader. It was first described to me by my friend Brixton as “this cool group of 334 people who left their diaries off an abandoned road for people to read.” Their idea had been to leave a mark on the world. One that also had the potential to help people. A dying member of The Whitworth Drive Group had first pitched the idea. For many years before the idea was pitched, The Whitworth Drive Group shared their diaries with each other. It began as teenage shenanigans, but developed into something they all relied on and enjoyed. Satine, the dying member, had suggested leaving their diaries at The Road for others to read. She thought reading about their lives would encourage others with their own struggles. It was meant to be therapeutic and helpful, but I’m certain they knew the relationships, drama, and different perspectives of the same situation would keep readers coming back.
After a long debate, they decided to go forth with Satine’s idea in June 2014. The plan was to leave their diaries from when they began writing thru December 2010, which was the month before Moongua, Georgia experienced a huge blizzard that trapped all 334 Whitworth Drive Members among 5 houses for a week and a half. It was significant because it was the first time they were all together. It was January 2020 before they left the second part of their diaries, which included their stories from January 2011-December 2019. And you are currently on the path to the third location: a locked room within the market at Southern Peach Farm.
I know you’re probably excited to get back to reading your favorite members’ diaries, if you are a returning reader, but please bare with me because a lot has changed since you last read. And I mean a lot. For instance, I know it’s probably obvious, but I am not one of the original 334 Whitworth Drive members. It is, however, a tradition that these random excerpts between diaries remain anonymous, so I won’t tell you my name. I will explain things though.
I’ll never forget the first time Brixton took me to The Road. Him and our other friend Klaus had found it summer 2016 and they immediately became obsessed with The Whitworth Drive Group. I listened to them talk about it because I love to hear people talk about things they love. It brings this comfort I can’t find anywhere else. But reading 334 different people’s diaries didn’t appeal to me until July 2019.
It was summer vacation and I’d gone over to Brixton’s to have a gaming night. Pulling allnighters with my friends has always been some of my best memories. I’d brought over junk food and energy drinks and I knew Brixton would probably have some cigarettes even though he claimed that he “didn’t need them” and “could quit at anytime.” We were an hour into our night when a bad thunderstorm rolled up. It only lasted for 2 hours, but it caused a power outage. We tried to nap while we waited for the power to come back, which was difficult because we were wired from the energy drinks. When it became clear that Brixton’s neighborhood wasn’t a priority for getting power back, we decided to go on a walk. Brixton’s parents had already fallen asleep, so we snuck out. The storm had cleared out, so it felt cool outside for the summertime in Georgia. Brixton suggested going to The Road, and I agreed because it beat being in a stuffy room. Plus, I’d never gone before.
The Road was about a mile long off Chester Road and had a dead end. It had a slight incline to the middle and declined all the way to the cul-de-sac. At the top of the slope off the road in the woods sat an oak tree Brixton told me was called Sophie’s Tree, which is where Brixton took me first. Underneath Sophie’s Tree sat totes covered in tarps which contained The Whitworth Drive Group’s first part of their diaries. I was mesmerized. I can’t really describe how I felt walking The Road to Sophie’s Tree. It reminded me of that familiar feeling you get when you share an experience you had that seemed isolating when it occurred just to learn that many went through similar things. You know, that feeling when you suddenly don’t feel so alone. I used my phone flashlight to read The Prologue, The Order List, and the first few months in Cara’s diary. We went back to Brixton’s because we began to crash, and I really didn’t think about it again until early March 2020.
It was March 7, 2020 to be exact, so right before the pandemic really hit the United States. I was on my bed scrolling on my phone in the evening when a thud on my window made me jump. I tossed my phone on my bed, still playing the video I’d been watching. I pulled back my curtain to find Brixton and Klaus standing there. I pulled my window open and since we’d removed my screen some time ago, Brixton hoisted himself up onto the sill.
“Get dressed. We’re on a mission.” I looked at Klaus for answers and he didn’t disappoint.
“We need you to come with us. We’re going to spy on Trace.” Trace was Klaus’s uncle. Klaus had been left in Trace’s custody when Klaus’s parents moved out of the country. Trace was also one of the 334 Whitworth Drive Members.
“Why are we spying on Trace?” I asked.
“Well, he’s been acting dodgy and Brixton just finished reading the second part of his favorite members’ diaries.” Klaus explained. I stared blankly, since his words meant essentially nothing to me.
“We want to see if they actually brought that hotel.” Brixton attempted to clarify.
“What hotel?” I asked.
“The Grey Pond Hotel.” Brixton answered. I stared into his icy blue eyes. The Grey Pond Hotel. That rung a bell. My dad had told me about it. The Grey Pond Hotel opened in the 1950s. It was an enormous multi-story building with around a thousand guest rooms inside. It sat on thousands of acres with many different attractions inside and on the property. It was at its’ peak in the 1970s and 1980s, but a lot of tragedy surrounded The Grey Pond Hotel. Suicides. Murders. Disappearances. Robberies. Explosions. Curses. Ghost stories. The list goes on. All that darkness made the hotel infamous and gave it a bad reputation. Its’ business began to decline until it eventually closed its’ doors in 2009. To my knowledge, it was an empty building, but I’d never gone to it. I didn’t even know the address or location aside from it was in Moongua.
“Who brought it?” I asked.
“The Whitworth Drive Group. It was in all of the diaries I read. That they planned to buy it.” Brixton explained.
“So, just ask Trace.” I suggested to Klaus.
“What part of dodgy don’t you understand?”
“So he just won’t tell you?” I asked. Klaus nodded. “Then, what’s the plan?”
“Well, Ness got us an address from that Hadley girl in her grade, so we’re gonna try to go there and see what’s up.” Klaus answered. Nessa was another one of my close friends. The only girl in my core group. Her real name was Vanessa, but she’d get mad if you called her that. I turned back to silence my phone and grab my hoodie.
“Well, let’s go.” I said and we set out.
It was a 20 minute walk from my house to Holly Jolly Forest, an agrotourism farm with Fall and Winter attractions like a corn maze and Christmas tree farm. When Brixton and Klaus had looked up Hadley’s address, it was down the road from Holly Jolly Forest. Hadley’s family had owned Grey Pond Hotel, so naturally, they’d also built a house near it to live in. Nessa had swiped Hadley’s address from her midterm report card. And since we couldn’t find an address anywhere online for The Grey Pond Hotel, that address had to suffice. We walked for an additional 20 minutes or so after Holly Jolly’s property line before finding Hadley’s mailbox.
“So where is this enormous hotel?” I asked.
“It’s probably down the road more. I doubt they’d build their house right on top of it. That seems…unsafe.” Klaus answered. So we continued walking. I began to feel thirsty and almost suggested turning back when Klaus spoke again. “Hey, look.” The sun was almost completely set by this point, so I turned on my phone’s flashlight to see what he was talking about. In front of us was an apparent clearing and gravel road. As far as I could see the road kept on. No building in sight. No mailbox or address indicator either. If I hadn’t been looking, I probably would have overlooked it.
“Do you think?” Brixton asked.
“Only one way to find out.” I replied as I took a step closer. Brixton and Klaus followed. According to the step count on my watch, we walked for 2 miles down this road. Time went by quickly because we joked around. Our conversation eventually fell to silence. As I kept walking, a wave of nausea washed over me. It felt like last summer when I’d drank way too much tequila while skating with friends, but a little worse. I stopped walking since my head was spinning. I felt like the ground was shifting underneath me.
“God, I feel so achy!” Brixton announced from up ahead as Klaus complained about chest pains.
“Look!” I exclaimed because upon looking up to check on them, I’d noticed the bright lights in the distance.
“Wow,” Brixton sighed. It was completely dark around us aside from our phone flashlights, but clearly a huge building was in our line of vision. I struggled to catch up to Brixton and Klaus because of that nauseous feeling. “So, they are here.” Brixton observed.
“Well, someone’s here. We won’t know who until we get closer.” Klaus corrected.
“We can’t just walk up there can w—” Brixton abruptly cut off.
“What?” I asked, since Brixton and Klaus just stared at each other wide-eyed.
“RUN!” Klaus yelled, grabbing Brixton’s arm and dragging him behind him. I followed closely behind even though I had no clue what we were running from. I didn’t ask until we made it back to the main road and they quit running.
“What happened?” I asked, almost out of breath.
“You didn’t hear that?” Klaus asked.
“No.”
“Some lady meowed at us!” Brixton explained.
“Meowed?” I asked, realizing that I no longer felt nauseous. They nodded, dead serious, so I tried not to laugh. We went back to our houses afterwards, and Brixton and Klaus were so creeped out that they didn’t suggest going back.
It was the end of March 2020 before I thought about The Whitworth Drive Group and The Grey Pond Hotel again. The country was in lockdown due to the pandemic and I felt like I was going crazy. I caught up on all the things around the house that I wanted to and I had a serious case of cabin fever. So I texted Nessa and another friend Cooper to meet me at a disclosed location where we went to skate sometimes.
Cooper was skating while Nessa sat to the side brushing her hair when I arrived.
“What’s up?” Cooper asked.
“Yeah, you seemed stressed.” Nessa agreed. I’d mentioned The Grey Pond Hotel and the visit Klaus, Brixton, and I took there to Cooper and Nessa. They’d laughed with me at the thought that what scared Klaus and Brixton off was apparently someone meowing at them, so I didn’t have to offer a long explanation.
“I want to go back to The Grey Pond Hotel.” Cooper and Nessa exchanged a glance.
“Why exactly?” Nessa asked.
“Honestly? I’m so bored and come on, we should help Klaus figure this out if we can. Plus, things have been so weird since…” I trailed off, but I knew they both knew I was thinking about Steven, our friend who committed suicide December 2019. I didn’t want to say his name because it would just hurt Nessa and enrage Cooper.
“Sure. Let’s do it.” Cooper agreed. We followed a similar path to the one I’d take with Brixton and Klaus. It was so much fun because it felt like forever since I’d hung out with friends. It was dark by the time we started out on the unmarked gravel road. Around 2 miles in, it hit again. Nausea. I slowed up. Nessa and Cooper froze with me.
“God splitting headache.” Nessa said, putting her head in her hands.
“My chest feels tight.” Cooper complained, putting his hands over his heart. I looked up to see lights again. I took a step, but the world spun. I couldn’t understand why this spot seemed to make everyone sick, and while I was trying to work through that mystery in my head, I heard it: A woman seemly meowing in my ear in a monotone voice. It made every hair on my neck stand up and sent a chill through me. I screamed, as did Cooper and Nessa. No one had to tell anyone to run this time. We kept running until we all made it to my house and dove in my window. Once to safety, we laughed. Fear kind of always turns funny when you’re no longer in danger.
“I’m never going back there again!” I concluded, as Nessa and Cooper agreed. Of course, that ended out being a lie, but it was over a year before I’d go back down that gravel road.
About a year after my two attempts at going to The Grey Pond Hotel, Brixton and Klaus began acting really shady. They kept ditching not only Cooper, Nessa, and me, but our other core friends too. When Cooper, Nessa, or I walked up on their conversation, they’d abruptly stop talking. This weird behavior from them didn’t go unnoticed by Cooper, Nessa, and me. We began speculating when they weren’t around and ultimately became like them by quickly changing the subject when they approached us, which for the record didn’t occur often.
One afternoon, Cooper, Nessa, and I were walking to my car after school. Cooper and I took turns driving us all to and from school. On this day, it was my turn. We were talking about our plans, but all got quiet when we noticed Brixton, Klaus, and two other kids from school: Nora and Lucky get into a car with a girl I didn’t know. The girl quickly drove away once they were all in the car, but I noticed a fox on her back windshield.
“Great, so they’re ditching us for golden boy Lucky.” Nessa mumbled. Lucky and Brixton had been friends since fourth grade or something, which I thought was probably the only reason they were friends because they had essentially nothing in common. I didn’t know Lucky personally, so it really wasn’t fair for me to dislike him, but the straight A Catholic boy athlete persona he put forth bothered the shit out of me.
“You guys, we knew they were friends.” Cooper pointed out.
“It’s weird though.” I commented.
“Their friendship?” Cooper asked.
“No, the way they seemed to be running out of here.” I replied. Cooper and Nessa didn’t have much to add, so I dropped it that day.
We saw Brixton and Klaus sneak off with that same group 2 more times before we started to be really bothered by it. On a Friday afternoon when Cooper had detention and Nessa and I left the building, we saw Brixton, Klaus, Lucky, and Nora get into the same car.
“Run!” Nessa exclaimed. We rushed to my car and managed to follow them out of the school’s parking lot thanks to the traffic director who always let more cars out of the student parking lot than the carline for parents. We tailed them for an hour. They went through the Moongua Square twice, but we lost them there the second time. Nessa became determined to uncover their secret. She tailed them with our other 6 guy friends including Cooper at different times. She lost them every time except for the time Cooper and her followed them to Holly Jolly Forest, but we all agreed there was no way that was their destination every time, especially since this was during the Spring, which meant they were closed. It became something the remaining 7 of my close friends discussed an obsessive amount.
It was Sunday, May 2, 2021 before we learned Brixton and Klaus’s secret. I met Cooper, Nessa, and the rest of the guys excluding Brixton and Klaus at one of our disclosed locations. Cooper and I were skating and smoking pot, which was probably a bad combo, but made everything so much funnier. I was practicing my 360 inward heelflip when Cooper dropped the bombshell on us. Nessa sat off the curb in the grass painting her nails. She always had her nails done.
“I learned who the driver was.” Cooper began. He didn’t have to elaborate. Thanks to Nessa, all of us were fairly invested in Brixton and Klaus’s drama. “Her name is Meghan Rector and she’s one of those Whitworth Drive members.” I had still been practicing, but Cooper’s words caught me off guard and I came crashing down beside Nessa. I heard the crunch as I hit. Nessa yelled my name and I realized I’d fallen on top of the handheld mirror she had to check her makeup and shattered it.
“Shit!” I exclaimed. “I’m sorry.” I apologized. As I began to pick up the shards, something under them caught my eye, and I reached down to pick it up: a four-leaf clover. “Hey, look!” I exclaimed, temporarily forgetting Cooper’s announcement.
“Broken mirror. That’s seven years of bad luck.” One of the guys pointed out.
“But look!” I repeated, holding up my four-leaf clover.
“Seven years good luck, so I guess it cancels out the bad luck.” Another friend suggested.
“I thought finding a four-leaf clover was just good luck. I didn’t think there was a time limit on it.” Cooper said. I don’t know why his words affected me so much. I stared at the mirror shards and four-leaf clover in my hands. What were the odds that I’d break a mirror and find a four-leaf clover at the same time? How long did the luck from a four-leaf clover even last? Did it help with bad luck? I wasn’t even sure I believed in such superstitions, but the coincidence of finding a four-leaf clover and breaking a mirror only seconds apart from each other seemed like some worldly message I couldn’t understand. I also think in some destiny way that is why Brixton and Klaus approached not only a minute later.
“You guys neglected to tell us you were hanging out.” Brixton joked. The only one who seemed to find his words funny was Klaus.
“Like you would have showed up.” One of the guys shot back. I thought Brixton and Klaus would take offense to that implication, but they both wore sympathetic expressions.
“Yeah, we actually wanted to talk to you guys about that.” Brixton responded.
“About what?” I wondered.
“Why we’ve been so…spacey.” Klaus clarified.
“Let me guess. It has something to do with Lucky, Nora, and,” Nessa looked at Cooper to finish her thought.
“Meghan Rector,” he supplied.
“Well, yes and no,” Brixton said. He made eye contact with Klaus. Then, sighed. It honestly looked like he was deciding the best way to break terrible news. “Do you guys remember The Whitworth Drive Group?” he asked. We all gave him a “duh” face, but answered yes or nodded. “Well, Klaus and I joined it.”
“Joined it?” I asked. They nodded. “I didn’t think that was a group you could join.” I pointed out.
“It wasn’t until…” Brixton trailed off. His black hair was messy and helped display his obvious stressed state.
“The investigation,” Klaus said.
“The what now?” I asked.
“The Whitworth Drive Group is looking into a lot of sketchy stuff that all seems to connect in weird ways. They started asking questions and stopped getting answers when their group was pegged for snooping, which caused a standstill in their research that they couldn’t afford, so they reached out and added people to help.” Klaus explained. The remaining 7 of us stared at Klaus until I spoke all of our thoughts.
“Wait, what?”
Klaus sighed. “It’s really difficult to explain, but we have binders filled with things The Whitworth Drive members have written up on it that you can read if—” Klaus added but paused.
“If what?” Cooper demanded.
“Well, they want all of you to join. You’d get your own room at The Grey Pond Hotel and—” but Nessa cut Klaus off.
“So that’s where you’ve been sneaking off to?” They nodded.
“Wait, why do they want us exactly?” I asked, staring at the four-leaf clover in my hand.
“Honestly, I think they want you guys because you’re our friends, but I promise it’s so worth it. You get a place to stay for such a small price and you get to be part of something. Like something big.” Brixton words weren’t funny, but I giggled anyway. And we all agreed.
Just for the record, this happened before everything got extremely weird, so no one really knew what they were getting into. It was before the rescues. Before the fake deaths. Before the drugs. And cults. And Moon Luck. And species. And powers. But most importantly before we were being hunted.
Brixton and Klaus took the remaining 7 of our core friends with them to The Grey Pond Hotel that evening. I rode in Cooper’s car in the back while Nessa rode shotgun. The nausea hit where I’d remembered on the way. I almost begged Cooper to turn back, since the pain was excruciating, but my own curiosity of The Grey Pond Hotel and the entirety of The Whitworth Drive Group kept me in check. I wasn’t even sure how many members they had anymore.
I’ll be honest, my first impression of The Whitworth Drive Group and The Grey Pond Hotel is a blur. I seriously thought I was going to barf when I got out of Cooper’s car, but an original member named Marina gave us the signature welcome mocktail she’d concocted called Moonsip and I felt my stomach settle to normal. I was still high, but I no longer felt like my lunch was about to reappear. We mingled with people we knew before our attention was called to Taylor Burstler, an original member who was the driving force behind their investigation. Taylor had a microphone so everyone could hear her. We’d all later be given one to use on walks, but I only remember Taylor having one on that night.
I’m not going to explain that walk and all the news The Whitworth Drive Group shared with us on that night mainly because I’m soon going to give you access to read everyone’s diary and it will all be there, but also because I don’t want this to get any longer than it has to be. Just know that I was in the 7th group added to The Whitworth Drive Group out of 30 groups, which brought the grand total of Whitworth Drive members to 954.
954 people is so many, but what is amazing to me is that I know all of them and they are all distinctly different. I think that is one of my favorite things about humanity: people share interests and experiences, but no two people are the same and everyone has their own unique perspective of the world. You obviously don’t have to read all of our diaries. If someone gets on your nerves, you can skip over them. It’s your choice completely, but we wanted to give you the option to read as many of our stories as you want. And just so you know, there is a list on the back of the door of the order to read our diaries, but again, it’s just a suggestion. Please don’t attempt to remove anything from the room. It’s for our safety and all of our locations are being watched anyway. I know you probably wouldn’t try, but I had to reiterate it.
I would also like to tell you that there will be anonymous breaks like this one throughout the order for you to read. I know by the time all of our diaries are left and the scavenger hunt for them is over that all 954 members will have written one, but at this time, the end is unknown.
I have to include a warning too. Please don’t try to locate The Grey Pond Hotel. I know curiosity will be there, but it will be dangerous to approach it and it’s hidden now anyway.
I don’t know what our diaries will mean to you, but I sincerely hope they add something to your life or give you positivity in dark times, a little moonlight, if you know what I mean. You are so loved, Sunlight. And as always, good luck!
Love,
An Anonymous Whitworth Drive Member
Door Code: 149385141115