1: Schizophrenia
"The wind blows cold outside. The air is still.
The world is silenced, not a single sound. Listen… you can hear the footsteps.
There is nothing alive. You are not alone.
This place is good. This town is hell."
You stare at the letter for several moments. At first you had simply thrown these letters out, believing them to be nothing more than a prank.
"They will stop in a week, two at the most," you had told yourself.
They continued into the next month.
When you checked the return address… there was none.
Continued into the next two months
You stared out the window long into the night. No one came. A letter did.
Into the next six months
You set up cameras outside your house. There was nothing but static all night.
Into the next year
You became paranoid.
You started collecting the letters.
Once, you took all the letters you had, put them in a box, and took them to a friend. When he opened the box, it was empty.
'You know the letters are evil. You can see it. No one else can. They don't believe you. But you know it.'
"It's not real…" you wispier quietly to yourself.
'You can keep the evil away. The key?'
"I found it… that's all…" you say to no one, staring into space.
'The key found you. It fits every ware. It seals the locks.'
"No it doesn't. It's just a key."
'You know that's not true.'
"It is true. It's all just tricks." You don't relies it, but you've raised you voice now.
'If it's not true, then why do you lock them away?'
"Because I have to!" you're shouting now.
'you have power! You can see the evil!'
"NO! IT'S A LIE! THERE IS NO EVIL!" screaming… at the voice in your head…
'THERE IS! ITS IN THE LETTERS'
"THEY'RE JUST LETTERS!"
'THEY ARE EVIL!'
"NO. THEY'RE. NOT!"
'YOU KNOW THEY ARE, BUT YOU'RE TO SCARED OF THEM TO ADMIT IT!'
"IT'S… I'm… they're… you're… you're right…"
'Wait… the drawer…'
"What?"
'THE DRAWER! THE DRAWER!
Then it hits you; the drawer has been open this whole time. You glance at the letters in the drawer; you can see something… evil seep from them. You quickly toss the new letter in, close the drawer, pull the key from its hiding place, and try to lock the drawer, but it's too late. The darkness has already seeped through the cracks; the power of your key is not enough now. You drop the key and fall to the floor as the darkness extends a shadowy hand towards you, its palm glowing with pain. The yellow bird flew over your head, attacking the darkness, keeping it occupied… for now. You dash down the hall; the stairs to the main floor are made of hatred. You quickly stumble down, doing your best not to fall. You stagger as you reached the bottom. You stumble through the living room. The weeping spirits sit on the couch. The floor is melting. The ceiling dripping blue liquid. You walk into the kitchen, now moving as if incredibly drunk, or severely wounded. Each tile on the floor spins at its own speed. All at the same time. This adds dizziness to the mixture. On your hands and knees now, you crawl to the counter. A weeping spirit screams. The darkness is closing in on you. You lift yourself, knuckles white as you grip the counter. You look up, the ceiling an endless void. You reach for the cupboard. The darkness is in the hall. You pull out a bottle. The darkness walks into the room. You try to pull the top off, your hands shake. The darkness walks towards you. You open the bottle, a bright light shoots from inside. The darkness stops, surprised, then it walks towards you, faster now. You shake the bottle a few times, two glowing circles land in your hand; the power to overcome the darkness. The darkness is running now. You put the circles in your mouth. The darkness reaches out, its glowing hand, nanoseconds from grabbing your wrist. You swallow and squeeze your eyes…
You let out a ragged breath and open your eyes. The world is normal once more.
"Voice tormentin' you again mate?"
You turn to see Jack, your roommate, standing in the doorway to his room, which is connected to the kitchen. Still in he's night clothes, your shouting must have woken him up.
You give an uneasy laugh
"Y-yeah… damn Schizophrenia, never release its coming till' it's too late."
"Y'know, I never seen anything this bad… No offense, but I think you've got a real problem."
"Excuse me?"
"It's just… well, the medication you are taking should counteract the effects… you shouldn't have to take it more than once a day, and yet, you take it at least four times…"
That's jack-ese for; you're a weirdo with a mental illness that's even weirder. But most people wouldn't relies that. Of course, you've had years of practice, renting out your spare room to that British physiologist and all.
"Well everyone's different I guess…" you reply, placing the pill bottle back in its spot in the cupboard.
"Yes… I suppose…"
You grab your backpack as Jack makes himself having already had two waffles (and Poptart), you don't want breakfast. You check your bag to make sure you have everything; papers, notebooks (five to be exact), spare meds, key, pens, phone, video camera, second camera, plenty of spare batteries, and two tripods. Everything you need for your student film. You walk out the door. You head to the parking lot two blocks down. Your neighbor is having a second floor built on her house, the construction trucks didn't all fit in her driveway, so you told her they could use your driveway, which was considerably larger, as well as hers.
Halfway there you pause, you take your backpack off your shoulder. There was something… wrong… you went through it again; papers, notebooks, meds, key, pens… key?
"Didn't I drop the key in my room…" you pull the key out, and examine it… it wasn't very spectacular. A simple old fashioned brass key you had found in your desk. You found it one day when you were pissed… you can't even remember what it was that made you so mad. You pulled the drawer to hard and –SNAP- it popped right off its track and onto the floor. Taped to the back was a key. Carved on the wood just below the key were the words. "The town awaits." This had severely creped you out, though you're not sure why. You put the drawer back in its place. That was a week before the letters started. They couldn't be linked… could they? You put the key back, close your bag and keep walking.
Out of the corner of your eye you see something glowing green move behind you. you don't turn to look, you simply keep walking, faster.
"Perhaps I'll take my meds sooner than usual today…" you say to yourself…
