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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic


Nothing is ever as it seems.

Submitted: October 10, 2017

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Submitted: October 10, 2017

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Wake up.

Hop in the shower, take a piss, brush teeth.

Get dressed.

Grab wallet, keys, pills, phone.

Get in the car, and start driving.

 

Some days, the routine became too much. Some days I longed for something of substance, meaning, I grasped at every idea and dream I could come up with. Some days I laughed, some I cried, but I ended each of them the same.

 

Today, I decided to drive down some back roads. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Often times when I was feeling lonely or depressed I would go on long drives. I could space out. Wind in my face, the sun on my skin, the smells and sounds of nature. I took a familiar access road, and headed down my path.

 

When I came to the clearing in the roadway, something seemed odd. I had an overwhelming sense of dread wash over me. I froze. I felt like I was punched in the stomach.

 

I stopped the car.

I opened the door.

I ran out and fell on my hands while I started to vomit.

Blood started dripping out of my nose.

 

That’s when I heard my name.

 

I tilted my head up to see a figure standing in the clearing. A black hood was tied around their face. The body was flesh colored, but didn’t have any defining features.

 

Maybe they were naked?

Why are they here?

What is going on?

 

They call my name again.

I stand up, and wipe the blood, spit, and bile from my mouth and start walking towards the field.

 

Every part of me is screaming stop, but I can’t. There’s a force dragging me. This isn’t up to me anymore.

 

I keep walking, too paralyzed with fear to try and get away.

 

As I approached the stranger in the black hood, I noticed that they were naked, but didn’t have anything you would expect of a typical human being. No genitalia. No anything. I reached out.

 

The figure held out its hand, and motioned me to stop. I looked down and it was standing in a pit filled with tar. It oozed and bubbled. We stood there for what seemed like an eternity.

It put its hand down.

 

What are you? Who are you? I took a step closer.

 

Mistake.

 

The figure pulled out a baseball bat from the pit, black, dripping in molten tar.

It struck my head.

 

The side of my head exploded, but instead of blood and skull fragments, out came glitter, bursts of light, sparks of color, and smoke.

 

My body hit the ground.

My mouth full of blood and loose teeth.

My hair caked with dirt and tar.

My eyes stained with tears, glossy, dilated.

 

Unable to move, the figure spoke;

 

“You can’t hide here any longer”.

It reached for its face and started to remove the mask.

 

I wake up.

 

I sit up.

I don’t remember going to sleep, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

I get out of bed, the floor to the apartment is cold.

It’s wet.

I walk into the bathroom and the tub is overflowing.

I look in the mirror.

My face is covered in bandages.

They’re caked in blood, and the skin peeking through was black with bruises.

My lips were swollen and my teeth were shattered.

Is this my face?

What happened?

Tears start falling, and they won't stop.

I don’t even recognize myself.

 

The tub is still overflowing, but I don’t care.

I climb in, maybe a hot bath could help calm my nerves?

 

Mistake.

 

I start to sink.

I’m being pulled under.
Something has wrapped its arms around me.
Is it trying to drown me?

 

I try to fight, violently thrashing and trying to climb out, each reach towards freedom was another failed escape. I’m losing my strength, I’m hyperventilating. I’m going to die here.

My head finally slips under.

 

Silence.

 

I open my eyes, and I’ve been transported to an underwater kingdom, and I am now a mermaid?

 

This is strange, but I’ll go with it.

 

I swim into the town, and I met with townspeople cowering in fear.

 

What’s wrong?

 

My voice just comes out as air bubbles.

 

They looked at me and pointed to a palace.

Black tar was starting to seep out of its doors.


I ask them what is this place, but they can’t understand.

Here comes the force again.
It’s calling my name.
I start swimming towards it.

 

Every part of me is screaming stop, but I can’t. It isn’t up to me anymore, so I keep swimming, too paralyzed with fear to try and get away.

 

I swim into the throne room.

 

The figure is there.

The black hood, the flesh colored plastic body.

It holds out it’s hand and tells me to stop.

 

Why is this happening to me?

Who are you?

Why are you doing this?

 

The figure lowered it’s hand and started walking towards me.

With every step it spoke

“I won’t be satisfied until I’ve taken everything. You belong to me.”

 

It wrapped it’s hands around my throat.

 

“Isn’t this how you wanted to go?”

 

I was human again.

I was human and my lungs are about to explode.

I gasp.

Water rushes in.

The figure releases its grip on my neck, and punches me in the chest.

My body goes backwards and I start to fall into an abyss.

As things go dark, I can see the figure watching.

It’s taking off its mask.

 

I wake up.

 

I don’t know if this is real anymore. I feel my face. My teeth are all accounted for.
No bruises, no scrapes, no bumps.
Finally.

I climb out of bed.
I wish this wasn’t how my mornings started, but it’s become routine.

 

I turn the shower on, and steam fills my tiny bathroom. The mirror fogs, and the steam wraps itself around me like a gentle hug.

I climb in the shower. It’s almost too hot to bare, almost. I stand with my head under the running water, letting it cascade down my body. I get dizzy. Time to get out. My body is hot to the touch, and is stained red from the hot water. It’s the only way I can feel clean anymore.

Dry off.

 

Brush teeth. Spit blood.
Throw wet hair into a hat.
Get dressed.

Some days I leave the house, but most days I don’t.
I’m alone, which is something I’ve come to take comfort in, but it’s also made me agoraphobic and afraid of the outside world. Some days I stare out the window, wondering what it’s like to live life without having to look over your shoulder. I wonder what it’s like to have a family, to have friends. To have anyone.

 

My stomach sinks.
It’s too painful to think about.

I used to have people who loved me, but I guess all good things come to an end. It’s hard to keep people in your life when you’re incapable of forming human connection and long lasting relationships. It’s hard to keep people in your life when you’re a disappointment and let everyone around you down. I’m better off this way in the end, but sometimes I do get lonely.

I light up a bowl and decide to try and forget about these feelings.
I’m unstable, but drugs keep me leveled.

A flood of relaxation waves over my body. I feel like I’m falling into a sky full of clouds.

 

Some days the high was better than others. Some days I can distract my thoughts, and some days I entertain them.

I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is coming, my stomach feels like it’s going to explode. My body starts convulsing. When the panic takes over I lose all control.

It’s like being a pilot in a ship heading straight for the bottom of the sea. Unable to control the situation, feeling powerless, and feeling like you’re about to die.

My stomach bursts open.

What the fuck is going on.

My stomach burst open, it’s full of black tar, glitter, and maggots.
Is this really happening to me?

I try to shove everything back in. I start crying. Black, thick tears fall to the floor.
Okay, what the fuck is going on?

There’s a knock at the door.
Help?
Did someone come to check on me?

I crawl to the door.
I don’t feel any pain, but my chest is tight. How am I alive?

The floor is cold, and quickly filling up with parts of me that used to be inside.

I reach up to open the door, but before I can open it, something kicks it in.
The door hits me in the face and knocks out a few teeth. My nose is broken. My face is swollen.

I look up, and it’s here.
The same figure from my dreams?
I’m I still asleep or am I hallucinating?

What the fuck is going on?

I go to scream, but my blood soaked mouth just gurgles.

“You thought you got away, didn’t you? You think you can have a normal life for a little while? So blissfully unaware of the darkness that storms inside you. You think you can beat me? You need to think again. I’m more powerful than you can ever hope to be.”

 

Fuck you.

 

“You’re such a stupid child, lets see how far we can push you before you break. Before you give up this pathetic fight you keep trying to win.”

The figure snaps it’s fingers.

I wake up.

 

I’m outside. I’m naked and I’m freezing.
Snow is falling all around me.
I’m going to die out here.

Am I dreaming? Do I care anymore? Did I die in the field? Is this hell?
I stare into the sky, the icy snow stings when it hits my face.

Should I just lay here?
I can’t keep fighting whatever this thing is.
I close my eyes, for what I hope is the final time, but in hell, luck is never on your side.

I feel a sharp pain in my stomach.
It burns like fire, the pain is unbearable.
Please just let me die.

My stomach bursts open in flames.
My body is on fire.
Please let me die.

I opened my eyes, and their it was. The figure was standing over me, with a marshmallow on a stick.

“You’re always so dramatic. You want everyone to feel sorry for you. Everything you do will always be wrong, and you only have yourself to blame. Get up and fight me.”

No.

“I said get up and fight me!”

No.

The figure is angry. The fire grows larger.
Black drops of tar start falling from the sky.

 

The figure started screaming.

“I gave you everything and this is how you repay me? You will pay for this. You think this is over? That you can just lay here and die? You haven’t figured it out yet have you?”

The figure reaches up and starts pulling back it’s mask.

 

I wake up.
I’m in my bed.
It’s 3 a.m. and everything is quiet and still.
My body isn’t broken, my teeth all accounted for. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.
I lay in bed, and I stare into the ceiling until the sun comes up.

I guess this is the real one afterall.
This isn’t something that’s new, this isn’t something that’s rare.
This is everyday life.
When I sleep I’m tormented by this figure.

I climb out of bed, and head towards the bathroom.
I crawl in the shower and lay on the floor.
The water is hot, and it burns my skin, but I don’t care.

An hour passes, the water turns cold.

Climb out. Dry off. Throw hair under a hat. I’ll brush my teeth tomorrow.
I throw on a shirt and some pants, and I try to retrace the steps in my dream.

 

Why does this keep happening?
What does this figure want with me? Why won’t it leave me alone?

I sit in isolation for most of the day, surrounded by my thoughts, surrounded by my fears.
I can’t make sense of anything.
I don’t know what to do, but I know I can not sleep.
If I sleep, the figure will come back.
I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of the pain. I’m tired of living, but what can you do?
I’m not even sure this is real or not anymore.
Who can I trust?

 

I open my eyes.
My therapist welcomes me out of my trance.
He waits for a moment and asks “Tell me what was your relationship like with your mother?”


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