Paranoia
By Chessrook44
She's watching me.
I know she is. I can hear them. See them. She sees me. I cannot escape. I cannot destroy them. I am trapped.
Perhaps I should explain.
It all started a few months ago.
No, that's wrong. It started in first grade.
I was young, of course, and it was that first day that I met HER.
Madison Taylor.
She and I spoke, and soon became friends. Only a year later did IT appear. I will never forget that day.
"Hello, Sakura!"
"Good morning, Madison." I noticed the bag she held. "What's in the bag?"
She simply smiled and took out a video camera. In an instant, she had whipped off the cap and started recording. "It's a video camera!" she said, recording me. "I want to record everything you do, Sakura!"
That was all. No explanation why. But we were good friends, so I let her continue.
15 years it continued.
15 years she recorded me. She recorded everything she saw. When I was trying to talk with someone, she was there. When I confessed my love to my boyfriend, she was there. When he and I first kissed, she was there.
And whenever I asked why she did it, her answer was always the same. "I want to record everything you do, Sakura!"
It was only a month ago when I realized what she meant. I was in bed, her words echoing throughout my mind. Suddenly, my eyes flew open and I sat up in bed. She wanted to record everything. That could only mean one thing.
She could be watching me now. With all the technological advancements nowadays, she could have put tiny cameras everywhere. She was watching me.
I ran downstairs and grabbed a bucket of black paint. I ran up, and painted all the walls. I got some paint on some of my things, but I didn't care. I went back to sleep, satisfied at completing my task.
I ran into her the next day. We spoke, but she acted as if she didn't know what I had done. Unless she had put in more!
That night, I put on a fresh coat.
I got the same reaction the next day. For days, this continued until I realized. She had put cameras all over the house! I had to buy two more cans of paint to cover the walls.
Still nothing. Every day I painted the house, knowing that she had put in new ones during the night. One night, I stayed up, hoping to catch her in the act.
She didn't come.
I rejoiced and saw her the next day. But she acted as if nothing had happened! I realized the problem. I saw the bag next to her and knew what it held.
That night, I snuck into her house and destroyed the camera.
I went to see her the next day. She acted saddened, but was glad she had a spare.
For days I continued to destroy her cameras. But she kept getting new ones.
Finally, I snapped.
Two days ago. Was it only two? I grabbed her bag and smashed it. I did anything that could destroy the fiendish crystal eye within as she watched. But that was not all. "Cameras." I said, realizing that she had placed them everywhere. I destroyed everything I saw that held one of her soul-stealing machines. I even ripped off all her clothes, which I knew held hundreds of them, all the time screaming, "Cameras! Stop watching me! Ah! There!" and destroying more of the invisible devices.
Two men came up to me. I felt a pain in my rear and lost consciousness.
I am here now, in this white room, wrapped in this white cloth.
She has been here. There are cameras on the walls. The ceiling. The door. The floor. My jacket. Under my skin. Everywhere.
I will not eat the food. She has put cameras within, just so she could record my insides. The same with the water.
I have tried to destroy the cameras, but the room is padded. My blows are simply absorbed, the glaring crystal surviving my attempts.
She is still watching.
She's watching me.
I know she is. I can hear them. See them. She sees me. I cannot escape. I cannot destroy them. I am trapped.
Perhaps I should explain.
It all started a few months ago.
No, that's wrong. It started in first grade.
I was young, of course, and it was that first day that I met HER.
Madison Taylor.
She and I spoke, and soon became friends. Only a year later did IT appear. I will never forget that day.
"Hello, Sakura!"
"Good morning, Madison." I noticed the bag she held. "What's in the bag?"
She simply smiled and took out a video camera. In an instant, she had whipped off the cap and started recording. "It's a video camera!" she said, recording me. "I want to record everything you do, Sakura!"
That was all. No explanation why. But we were good friends, so I let her continue.
15 years it continued.
15 years she recorded me. She recorded everything she saw. When I was trying to talk with someone, she was there. When I confessed my love to my boyfriend, she was there. When he and I first kissed, she was there.
And whenever I asked why she did it, her answer was always the same. "I want to record everything you do, Sakura!"
It was only a month ago when I realized what she meant. I was in bed, her words echoing throughout my mind. Suddenly, my eyes flew open and I sat up in bed. She wanted to record everything. That could only mean one thing.
She could be watching me now. With all the technological advancements nowadays, she could have put tiny cameras everywhere. She was watching me.
I ran downstairs and grabbed a bucket of black paint. I ran up, and painted all the walls. I got some paint on some of my things, but I didn't care. I went back to sleep, satisfied at completing my task.
I ran into her the next day. We spoke, but she acted as if she didn't know what I had done. Unless she had put in more!
That night, I put on a fresh coat.
I got the same reaction the next day. For days, this continued until I realized. She had put cameras all over the house! I had to buy two more cans of paint to cover the walls.
Still nothing. Every day I painted the house, knowing that she had put in new ones during the night. One night, I stayed up, hoping to catch her in the act.
She didn't come.
I rejoiced and saw her the next day. But she acted as if nothing had happened! I realized the problem. I saw the bag next to her and knew what it held.
That night, I snuck into her house and destroyed the camera.
I went to see her the next day. She acted saddened, but was glad she had a spare.
For days I continued to destroy her cameras. But she kept getting new ones.
Finally, I snapped.
Two days ago. Was it only two? I grabbed her bag and smashed it. I did anything that could destroy the fiendish crystal eye within as she watched. But that was not all. "Cameras." I said, realizing that she had placed them everywhere. I destroyed everything I saw that held one of her soul-stealing machines. I even ripped off all her clothes, which I knew held hundreds of them, all the time screaming, "Cameras! Stop watching me! Ah! There!" and destroying more of the invisible devices.
Two men came up to me. I felt a pain in my rear and lost consciousness.
I am here now, in this white room, wrapped in this white cloth.
She has been here. There are cameras on the walls. The ceiling. The door. The floor. My jacket. Under my skin. Everywhere.
I will not eat the food. She has put cameras within, just so she could record my insides. The same with the water.
I have tried to destroy the cameras, but the room is padded. My blows are simply absorbed, the glaring crystal surviving my attempts.
She is still watching.