"Marcus doesn't live here anymore."
"Marcus please, no wait!"
"Shut up and bleed you mother..."
I wake up screaming.
"Well, that wasn't so bad." I think. That's as close to a good night sleep I've gotten in a while. Usually, I wake up when I'm looking him in the eyes... Looking at this monster. Looking at my father.
I've grown to hate sleep. It's the same every night. But the less I sleep, the more I see him in the real world. I'm screwed either way.
Of course even with sleep I still see him. In dark corners. On tv. Sometimes the doctors turn into him. He's everywhere. He's everything.
I'm not safe no matter what I do.
It's emotionally exhausting. Constantly reliving every moment of that horrible day. Being on guard all the time, not knowing if this is the day he'll find me. Somehow I feel like that's that part of this game. To wear me down until I can save myself like before.
It's definitely working.
I can't keep this up. It's too difficult... the rest of the family tried their best, but there's just no hope. I'm beyond their help.
So I came up with another plan.
I've pulled myself together well enough to fool my doctors into letting me go. I checked myself out of the institution and went, of all places, home.
I remember that monster used to carry a gun for safety at the house. I feel eerily calm returning home, not scared in the least. I get what I came for, and I start to leave, but something tells me to stay. It just... I don't know, it seems appropriate.
It's raining now. For a second I think maybe the world is crying for me. It's comforting, to say the least
I sit in HIS old chair. I remember the way he'd used to let me sit on his lap while I ate some ice cream from his truck. He'd always do things like that, even knowing his boss would be pissed with the free merchandise and deduct his pay. I miss that man. I miss him the same way I miss my mom and my brothers. But this new man, this man that haunts me... that's not him.
I shake these thoughts and contemplate what I'm about to do. Now that the time has come, I'm scared. A part of me doesn't wanna die.I know that this won't end till one of us is dead. And I refuse to give HIM the pleasure of doing the job himself
I grab the gun, ready to shut it all off, to end my torment. Soon, I'll be free!
I hear suicides go to Hell.
Thats funny; Hell sounds pretty damn good right now.