Sunken section of SCP-5669.
Special Containment Procedures: Advanced research into SCP-5669 have suggested that continuous concealment and disallowment of phenomena to propegate actively causes anomalous activity. Following study and review, containment specialists have implemented a gradual process of abandoning active containment to allow self-neutralization.
Description: SCP-5669 refers to a partially flooded home near rural Montauk, New York. During periods of stormy weather, SCP-5669 sporadically releases anywhere from one to one hundred glass bottles, differing in color, shape and manufacturer, though milk bottles are most commonly found. Each bottle, regardless of factor, contains a tightly rolled note, written on a material resembling tree bark. Messages produced notably decrease during the month of June.
Addendum: Recovered Messages
Since documentation of SCP-5669, an approximate of ██ unique messages have been discovered. Each message is written in the first person, and alternates between long passages, and smaller, fragmented sentences, and occasional selections of poetry. Messages of importance have been collected below, and arranged in approximate chronological order.
To the other single person at the dance:
I hadn't gotten the chance to have caught your name. I saw you on the sidelines at the dancehall last Wednesday night. I was going to ask you for a dance, just because you and I had been the only ones who didn't seem to have had a dancin' partner. Wasn't meant to be a waltz or anythin' of that sort, just a simple little thing to have ended the night.
I was wanting to go and introduce myself properly, but everytime I got close to you, I got too nervous. I didn't even know if you had a dancing partner, but they had been late or somesuch. So there I went, havingto go and turn myself back around. I know it isn't as neighborly to introduce myself this way, but well- it seems this is how it is for right now. My name is Mary-Jean Lucy-Crawford. My sisters joked thay my mother couldn't pick a favorite name out of Mary, Lucy and Jean, and instead simply went with all three. I go by Jean, perhaps because I'm the middle child, and its the middle name. Or, uh, just sounds better then Mary-Lucy. Jury's still out and countin'. I think they're probably right in some aspects. I haven't been able to have a lot of company over, or even really get out onto the town, and meet everyone. Last Wednesday was the only time I could in the past few months.
Can I invite you over, one of these days? Perhaps on the first of March, 'round the afternoon? I'll pop a cake in the oven too. My mother taught me that. Always joked abour bribin' the new neighbours with tea and cake.
Perhaps I'll see you then. -Jean.
To Someone Special.
Wednesday fell into the weekend so fast, I hadn't even noticed until I went out to get the paper, and I found myself plum-struck by the date. I felt so… good and like myself. Not having to hide behind a facade, of what everyone else in Montauk expected me to be. Not that they know me well, but… Just by having a few days with you- It felt good. A rather nice thing to feel. A real good thing. Real good thing. I never really got the chance to tell you this, and again, like last time, here I am expressing something important through a letter. This is the last time. I promise you that. But the thing I wanted to tell you was, that I am happy that you feel like I can be more to you than anyone else in this town.
I'm looking forward to the time when I get to see you again. I know we're not at the point were I can spin sonnets, and throw every word of affection your way, but I feel like I can say that I think you're important to me. Someone real important.
I think I'm falling in love with you.
I think winter is coming early to the coast this year. I can see it in the trees, and the grass, the forests around the cliffs… I really see it in the beach and the ocean though. Just how the waves alternated between crashing across the sand, to… more gentle lapping. The gentle sort of kind that brings forward all the shells and pretty things deep from the sea to the sky. I had hated winter. Hated the cold, hated the death. But now I see the softness and stillness. I-
I see you in winter. I see you in the stillness of ocean and the breeze surrounding the cliff. I'm working my way to kissing you- for real. There'll be heavy snow tomorrow evening. Sort of a blizzard across the sea, and it'll be cold, dark and quiet. The kind of weather you told me you loved. I know I sound like any old love song on the radio today, but you had made me fall in love with wintertime. Perhaps because I met you then, and when I look out into the sea, I see you and I dancing by the cliffside.
I think at this time, I can say that I love you. And everyday, I think it'll grow longer and longer. Every new winter day.
i love you
I wrote a poem, because I love you. I'll set it to music, the next time you're over. Bring the cello, and I'll play along with the piano, and sing for you.
My love with hair of a smoldering fire
thoughts of spring and evening wind
who I will hold with ginger fingers
and bring close to my heavy
chest, with words of light, and heavy ash in my belly
My love who comforted my soul
When skies were gone
And who will hold my embrace
As but the ocean
As the clouds
My love with everything and everyone
Kiss the stars when they shine bright
Above a cold moon
Kept warm by my darling and embrace
To say words because I love you.
I had a wonderful dream last night, about you and I. We were together, mending flowers by the garden. My garden doesn't grow. I was told the soil is too acidic, along with all the saltwater flooding the garden plots. It hasn't stopped me from trying, mind you.
The day again when you were over, I swear that my saplings and tulips began to grow, and with wild roots reaching underneath the house. I like to think that you were the one who made it all happen, as if you by my side mended the old garden and the house. My darling, I don't want to be melodramatic, nor a beggar for pity, but you have mended a hole in my heart. My heart is whole because of you. I want you by my side by the garden, by the old house, and to be able to hold my hand every night, and to kiss you good morning every dawn.
It'll be soon be a time where we can be together without having to remain hidden, but like a great flower in my garden or a wave crashing across the ocean coast. Come visit me soon. I miss you.
Your love, Jean.
Addendum No. 1: Dr. Brown's Message
Lead SCP-5669 researcher Josephine Brown reported finding the following message found in a bottle, that washed in the beach near her home in Montauk, NY. Before her work in the Foundation's historical department, Brown was a noted archivist of lesbian history and literature. Historical review has shown that the following image has not been publicly shared until appearing to Dr. Josephine Brown.
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Thank you for remembering and seeing us. As time goes on, we won't need to be remembered this way. People will know. With love, Jean and Nelly Crawford.