Bogleech.com's 2013 Horror Write-off:
"Transcript for Interview Number 24"
Submitted by Brian ShadensackThesis: I believe that there is a common occurrence of mental diseases among the homeless population of Chicago, Illinois. Through a collection of interviews given to the homeless I plan to prove this common thread of mental illness. For location of interviews and times please see appendix A.
Transcript of Interview Number 24
Interviewer: Owen Scott
Interviewee: Beau Little
Interviewee appeared to be older than she claims to be. Beau claimed to be 35, appeared to be early 50s with skin damage. Subject had scarring on her body both from injury and sun damage. Subject had a full set of teeth though they are an odd brownish color. Subject’s hair had started to fall out. Subject appears to be roughly four feet ten inches and is rather malnourished. This may be due to her refusal to enter of any man made or otherwise structure. I was able to contact interviewee through her cell phone, given to her through a local charity. Due to her problem they are willing to charge it for her also.
Note: Interviewee refused to come inside for interview, interview happened in alley behind apartment where interviewee “lived”)
Scott: Do you prefer Beau or Miss Little?
Little: Beau is fine. Do you prefer Scott?
Scott: I prefer Scott.
Little: Good, I don’t know your last name.
Scott: Actually Scott is my last name.
Little: Really? What’s your first?
Little: Ew, I’ll stick with Scott.
Scott: Alright, Beau ready to start the interview?
Scott: Alright Beau, can you explain situation to me?
Little: Well I’ve been unable to enter a house for about two years.
Scott: By “unable to enter” you mean?
Little: Unable to enter. Cannot enter, impossible to enter a house.
Scott: Define house.
Little: I guess I’m using house to just mean anything with four walls and a roof.
Scott: So by house you mean...
Little: A building.
Scott: Just a building?
Little: I guess not. It’s, it’s just so hard to define, you know. Oh I can’t get in a car, even if it’s a convertible. So there goes my definition of building right. A convertible doesn’t have a roof right. I can’t go into a demolished building without a roof. Hell I can’t even get medical attention unless they come to me. What I’m saying is that a building is a good catch all; it’s more akin to not being able to enter a place with an entrance.
Scott: So when you say entrance, you mean like a door?
Little: I wish. Like I can’t even define it. I can enter this alley just fine, though you think opening made by the two buildings would qualify as an entrance. But here I am, I can go to a drive through if they accept walk threw’s. But I can’t get into a public park unless I hop the fence. I can’t go into a building period. No cars. Open air tent? I can go in, though like that’s just four entrances right? It doesn’t make a god damn lick of sense. I mean like; why can’t I go inside. I can enter the entrance, but it won’t let me inside I, I just want a warm bed and a running shower and to look outside at the rain instead of being in the rain and and and…
Scott: You alright Beau? Do you need some time to compose yourself? Do you need anything?
Little: No, no I’m fine. I agreed to give this interview, I need to get my story out there, maybe see if there’s anyone else out there like this.
Scott: So you haven’t been inside for two years. But your teeth seem fine, care to explain that.
Little: *Note: at this point Miss Little Proceeds to remove her teeth* There dentures. I lost my teeth when I was four in a traffic accident. Had to get my whole jaw rebuilt *Miss Little proceeds to put her dentures back in*
Scott: Oh, well…how do you manage to survive out here?
Little: It’s not easy. You would think food would be the hardest part, but once you get over eating out of the trash it’s not that hard. I…I once killed a dog because it had a piece of a hot dog in its mouth…I…I ate the dog too.
Little: I…we ate the dog.
Little: Some other homeless and I. It was so cold. Have you ever been outside during the winters around here? They are horrific. So cold…so cold…..
Little: Inside is warm…why can’t I go inside…why…
Beau: *Note: Miss Beau was completely unaware of her surrounding at this point* Why…why…why…I just want to go inside…inside…warmth…bed…running water…why….why…
Beau: WHAT? …Where am I…?
Scott: You’re outside, at your home, you were telling me about the dog?
Little: Oh yes. We ate the dog.
Little: It was me, Pete, John, and Sean. Pete started the fire to cook the poor mongrel, John was just there, and Sean…oh poor Sean…
Scott: What happened?
Little: Then nothing, Sean was a butcher before the disease got him…
Scott: Sorry to interrupt, but disease?
Little: Oh it’s just a bit of fancy speak that the homeless use. I don’t know where it started but it’s just what we call homelessness. So anyways, Sean always had his knives and a cleaver on him…
Scott: He had a cleaver?
Little: Yeah, damned it we knew where he got it from, but he never was without them. But he just goes ahead and skins the mongrel and guts it. Hell he even filets it. Queerest thing I’ve ever seen, but I’ll tell you, it was the best meal any of us had in a long while.
Scott: What happened to Sean?
Little: Well a few days I was just walking him to a food bank, when we were attacked by a mugger. I don’t know what a mugger was trying to get out of too homeless people, but I’ll be damned if he wasn’t out for something. So anyways the mugger attacks me, and Sean just takes that cleaver of his and swings for the mugger’s chest. Misses, hits the mugger square in the stomach, and the Mugger looks down, see’s a little bit of intestine peaking out, freaks, and just stabs Sean in the neck a few times. Real quick like. Like a man possessed. And…and...Sean…Sean…bleeds out…
Scott: My god…
Little: And there I am, trying to hold this man who just saved me, who’s easily twice my size up, and he’s bleeding to death on top of me. So with all my strength I don’t let him crush me under his bulk I manage to put him down, against the cold brick of the building in the alley where the mugger jumped us. And…and…I…I can’t go…can’t go…inside to…to get…to get help. And…and…he just dies in that alley…homeless…at least he wasn’t alone.
Scott: You stayed with him?
Little: At…at…least until…until…he died. Do…do you want…want to see the alley?
Scott: Yes, I would like that.
*Beau leads me to an alley about 15 minutes walk from where we are. She refuses to get into my car. The walk seems to calm her, while she does have tears in her eyes she also seems to walk with a purpose. In between a bowling alley and a closed restaurant is a dumpster across from which is where a small cross is scratched into the wall. Underneath the cross there appears to be some old blood stains and possible bile stains (which I assume to be from the mugger).*
Scott: So this is the alley?
Little: Yes…you can see where he died…and that’s where I tried to go inside to get help, and couldn’t.
Little: I…I really tried…you know…it’s not fair…
Scott: Why are you afraid to go inside Beau?
Little: I’m not afraid, I can’t. There’s a difference between can’t and won’t.
Scott: Are you willing to try…
Scott: Please, for me, for Sean…
Little: For…for Sean?
Little: Ok but don’t get mad when I can’t…
Scott: No one will get mad.
Little: Promise me.
Little: Promise me.
Scott: Alright, I promise I won’t get mad when you can’t enter the building.
Little: Ok, but you have to watch me try.
Scott: I will.
Little: Ok…alright Beau you can do this.
*Miss Little takes a few minutes to garner courage and begins to walk towards the bowling alley. She looks back at me; I nod; she noticeably swallows in what I can assume is fear or frustration; opens the door, stalls for a second, enters the building…*
*…and instantaneously appears to walk out the exit door of the bowling alley.*
Little: You promised not to get mad…
Scott: I’m not mad, I…I’m confused, what just happened?
Little: Told you, I cannot enter a house.
Scott: But, but, but…Let’s try something. I’m going into the bowling alley and we’ll try again.
Little: Won’t matter…
*I enter the bowling alley, standing about ten feet behind the entrance, and Miss Little approaches, only to again enter and instantaneously appear to walk out the exit door.*
Scott: Wait, wait….let me try something…
*I exit the building and proceed to approach Beau, counting my lucky stars that no one in the alley has seemed to notice us.*
Little: Hey what are you…
*I proceed to pick up Miss Little, and approach the door, nudging it open with my feet. The second I enter the building Miss Little disappears from my arm and appears outside the exit door on her back.*
Little: Oof…a little help…
Scott: Oh, of course…*I proceed to help Miss Little up.*
Little: What part of unable to enter do you not understand?
Scott: I’m so terribly sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?
Little: Well money of course doesn’t really help me all that much, but if you want to buy me a space heater and some batteries to power it with I would greatly appreciate it.
Scott: Of course…of course…I also gave my phone number to the charity where you got your phone from, feel free to contact me if you need food or something.
Little: I already have charities that help me with that, but if times are tough I will.
Scott: Good, I would like that.
Little: You know you seem awfully calm about somebody who just witnessed what happened.
Scott: Well Beau, I really wish I could say that this was the oddest thing I’ve run into giving these interviews.