Silenced by Parasites
A Silent Hill and The Cat Lady Crossover Fiction
Chapter 1
Just do it, I told myself, no one will miss you. I stood in front of the bathroom sink, staring at the pills in my hand. The longer I stood there, I could feel more and more pain pumping through my body, all the regret and fear and guilt from all these years. I could feel it tensing my muscles and filling my eyes with tears. You have nothing to lose. All the pain will go away. But even though I knew the pain would end, I could not help but feel as though maybe there was some reason for me to stay. Did I really need to do this?
Yes.
I squeezed my eyes shut as another burst of tears flooded down my face. Without another thought, I shoved the pills in my mouth, sobbing. At this point it was like I lost control of my body. No thought, no fear, just popping pills, a few at a time until the bottle was completely empty. By the time I was finished, I could already feel the dizziness swirling around in my head. I walked slowly into the living room, keeping my eyes on my feet to ensure that I didn't trip over anything.
About five feet away from the little table that I was heading to, I looked up finally and was greeted by the gaze of Teacup, one of the cats who served as my only company. He looked at me sadly, as if he knew, and in front of him, on the table, was a pen and a piece of paper.
A suicide note – that's what I needed to do before I lost consciousness, not that I owed it to anyone.
I sat down in front of the paper and sort of meditated for a moment. I knew for sure now – I was ready to leave. I took a deep breath in, exhaled back out, and picked up the pen.
My name is Susan Ashworth.
I felt the need to address who I was. After all, everyone else in the apartment just referred to me as the crazy cat lady from flat four, and there was no one else who could identify my body.
I live alone in this old two-bedroom flat. I rarely go outside. Some would say it's a lonely life and I guess that's true, but I don't like people's company. Not lately, anyway.
Any of the neighbors could have told you this, but what I didn't mention is that, deep down, I guess I really would have liked to have at least one friend, someone who could understand what I was going through. What I didn't like was being around the people like Bryan, the angry bald man that lived upstairs, the people that society could do without. Besides this, I was always so nervous around people that I couldn't make any friends anyway, so there was no use.
I only trust my cats these days and I will miss them dearly. But they will understand, like they always have.
In my head, it sounded very sincere and just the right thing to say, but reading it made me sound like I really was a crazy cat lady. I felt a twinge of frustration at thinking about what people might think of her when reading this, but then I shook my head and continued writing, beginning to feel very sleepy.
Teacup stays with me 'til the end. He watches me, as if he knew…Because earlier tonight, I swallowed a whole bunch of pills. They're legal, of course – prescribed by my doctor for my sleeping problems – but I've taken thirty-four of them, all I could find in the cupboard, and now the room around me spins in a blurry tango as my heart slows down.
I suddenly began to realize just how big of a number that thirty-four was in that moment. One pill would make me sleep for a night. How long would thirty-four times that last? It suddenly occurred to me –
Any second now, I will be dead.
And then also much to my surprise –
I feel calm. I'm ready for it.
Of course anyone would feel calm with that much sleep medication, but it just seemed right at the time.
I've only got one thing to say now. Thanks for nothing. Goodbye.
I put the pen down then leaned my head back, waiting for the pills to take full effect. My eyes closed slowly and the next thing –
Blackness.
…
Suddenly, I began gasping for air. I smelled blood, and it was dark. Panic rose in me as I found that I was being suffocated by something, trapped by some strange fleshy thing. The idea both frightened and repulsed me, and I began convulsing. I had to get out. I wanted to scream. I tried so hard to open my mouth but there was not even enough room to do that.
Like some kind of animal, I began clawing wildly at the walls that confined me. I could feel a wet, mushy substance all over my body, and I didn't even have to think about what it was – I knew. It was troubling to think about, so I didn't. At last there was a hole big enough for me to get my hands out. I tore at the skin, trying to push thoughts of pain and gore out of my mind. Once the hole was big enough, I contorted my body to wriggle free.
Exhausted and gasping for air, I laid on the concrete floor for a moment. What had I just done? Finally, I stood up and turned to face my former flesh prison. My eyes widened and my knees weakened at the sight in front of me – the corpse of a woman whose torso had been ripped open-
My corpse.
