the five fingered mouth

The clock moves ever more slowly down a winding path of loss. I sit there and wonder the pain and suffering I went through. Nothing can cure me. My brown hair tells me to stop. My green eyes are too blind to see. My gray shirt begs to be free from the tight grasp. My blue jeans does the same as the gray shirt. My white skin is the thing. 

The room of the dark consumes me. The white covered bed. The window that looks over the city. My lamp in the middle of two beds. The brown closet door opens. A voice speaks in a ever so simple mind. Go in the closet and stay in there. I feel rather uneasy after that. It's like a childhood nightmare growing. I stay in the closet. All I can hear is that clock. Ticking. My heartbeat is thumping louder and louder every beat. My body twitches time to time in that closet. I hear a scream of pain. A man screaming. It came from my left hand.

I hit my head against the dry wall while my right hand is grabbing the left hand. My own body is against me. My left hand is evil. I got out of the closet with my left hand sticking out of in front of me. I have dealt with this before when I was just a kid. You think you're so clever, Mike. I swear my hand just talked to me. This isn't Alien Hand Syndrome. This is like.... Talking Hand Syndrome.

My left hand curls up very tightly. I groaned in pain. My hand starts to cramp. The pain. The pain is so bad. I cry for it to stop. You forgot about me, Mike. Don't you remember that night? 

"What night?" I say in utter confusion.

That night you were attacked.

"I was never attacked. I just remember you attacking me when I was a child," I wanted it to stop.

The hand punches me in the stomach. So much air left me. I feel soulless. What does my left hand want? I want you to remember the day you forgot about me. THE DAY I CAME TO YOU AND YOU LEFT ME IN YOURSELF. I left something inside of me? That is not right at all. I have a very sick feeling in my stomach. My skin moves inside of me. I fall down and faint. 

~~~~

Waking up is probably hurting the most. My left arm hurts, but it didn't feel normal. Feels very wet. I look down almost wanting to throw up. My left arm is black and smooth with shadow like, sharp, and very long fingernails. My skin lays there bloody. Something inside has created that. How does it feel to see me now?

"Who the hell are you?" I cry out.

I am you.

"No, you're not. YOU'RE A PARASITE TO ME," My right fist clenches the air tightly.

You know. You shouldn't have drank that water.

"WHAT WATER? THERE IS SO MUCH WATER AROUND THE EARTH!!" I get more angry.

You were right about me being a parasite. I can do so much more.

"What.... What.... What. Do you mean?" I pause and say in a rush.

My right leg moves upwards. I scream in pain. I am not prepared for this type of agony. 

Do you want to see something else?

I am forced to say yes.

I want you to infect seven people tonight in this hotel. All you have to do is scratch them with your black hand.

I walk out of my room all robot like. Something is controlling my brain. 

I am a neurax worm. I can control your physical and mental state. I am you. You are me. I like you. Time to spread the first mental issue. We will call this, The Red Snow. 

Time to hurry up, Mike. This is the first mental health issue to be actually spreadable.