Look at me, you can tell, by the way I move and do my hair. Do you think that it's me, or it's not me? I don't even care. I'm alive, I don't smell, I'm the cleanest I have ever been. I feel big, I feel tall, I feel dry…dry…
Colden lay facedown on the bed in the crummy hotel room he'd rented under a fake name. The Used blared through his ear buds as his mood darkened further and further.
Just look at me, look at me now. I'm a fake, I'm a fake, I'm a fake, I'm a fake…
He rolled over on his side to look at the clock radio on the wicker bed side table. 2:30 am.
"Well, now is a good a time as any." Slowly he picked himself off the bed, turning on the small lamp next to the clock radio. He walked over to his backpack and pulled out a video camera and mini tripod. Setting them up to face the bed, he hit the record button and sat down.
"Uh, hey. This is Colden Mitchell. But you already know that." He looked down at his fumbling hands, collecting his thoughts. "I'm the man who assaulted Leah McAllister. You already know that as well."
What the hell do you think you're doing?
"I'm making this video to tell you that this whole thing is far from being over. In fact, it's just the beginning."
A sly smile spread across his face. "I'd love to tell you every juicy detail, but that's not the main purpose here, kids. I thought I'd let you in on the mind of a wanted man."
His eyes grew dark and the smile disappeared from his face. "Let me tell you something. My mind is probably the most disturbing thing you could ever imagine. Sometimes, I even terrify myself."
He stood from the bed, pacing in front of the camera. "Have you ever been trapped in a dark, windowless prison cell? You try and try all you want to break down the bars, but you never break free. Now imagine that an inmate much bigger, scarier, stronger, and more powerful than you becomes your cell-mate. He hovers over you day and night, whispering dark and evil things in your ear. You try to resist him, but he's just too powerful to overcome. He slowly breaks you down, day by day, month by month, year by year, until you come to a point where you are no longer your own person…you have become him and he has become you."
Colden paused and looked straight into the camera.
"Welcome to my mind." The sly smile returned. "Only one other person has seen this side of me, and for that I should have killed her. I almost did. This time," he got close to the camera. "She won't be so lucky."
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Leah and the gang had a blast on the last day in Hollywood; they watched movies and ate junk food in their hotel rooms, they played an epic game of hide and seek in the lobby, ding-dong-ditched every room on their floor, took pictures with random people in the indoor pool, and made fantastic memories.
It was the end of the day, and everyone was carrying their suitcases and bags out to the tour bus, not looking forward to the 4 and a half hour bus ride to their next stop on the tour; Las Vegas. They were only staying there one night. The tour itself wasn't huge. They were only playing thirty cities till the end of July. But they loved it just the same.
All packed up and ready to go, the gang piled into the huge bus, crashing dead tired onto their bunks.
The others soon fell asleep as the bus rolled along, but Leah found herself still wide awake, curled up on her side under the covers. Thoughts of Colden flooded her mind, keeping it too busy to sleep.
Sighing quite audibly, she rolled over onto her back, resting one arm on her stomach and the other across her forehead. I just can't seem to get away from him, can I?
She could feel her body tense up as she recalled bits and pieces of the latest assault.
Colden grabbed her by the neck and slammed her up against the wall, knocking down a painting.
Clawing at his hands around her neck, Leah gasped for the air her lungs were being denied. She tried to speak, but Colden threw her onto the couch.
"You should have loved me when you had the chance, Leah. Now you'll suffer just like I did!"
Leah snapped her eyes open and gasped for air, bolting upright and smacking her head on the top of the bunk. "Schiesse!" she laid back down, gingerly feeling the bump now forming in the top of her head.
Bill's head popped down from above her. "Leah! Are you okay?" he questioned, glancing at the clock on his phone. "It's almost three in the morning! What the heck are you doing?"
"I just couldn't fall asleep," Leah sighed, a slight smile creeping onto her face. "What are you doing up?"
"Well," Bill yawned. "You kind of jolted me out of my slumber with that headshot to the bottom of my bunk." He smiled. "Did you have a bad dream or something?"
Leah swallowed. "No, I was just thinking too much about…someone…" She rolled her eyes, disgusted with the whole situation.
"You know, I think—" Bill sentence was cut off by the vibration of Leah's phone under her pillow.
Curiously, Leah retrieved it and flipped it open. "One new video message? Who the hell would be sending me stuff at three in the morning?"
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