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I sit here, alone, in this little white room, with no windows, no doors, just white walls, white floor, white ceiling, white lights. Even my clothes are white.

They put me in here because they think I'm crazy. I'm not crazy, I just see things no one else sees... they don't believe me. They say the monsters aren't real. But they're wrong. They can't see... what's right in front of them.

I saw one of them, once, standing behind a little girl... in one swift motion, he ripped her head off... the blood was everywhere... running between the feet of the people on the bus. Then I blinked, and he was gone. The next day, she was dead, murdered in her sleep... I woke up with blood on my fingernails that morning...

That was the day that they started using words like "insane" and "unstable", that's when they sent me away... they didn't believe me. They didn't believe that I see the monsters for a reason, that they told me to kill her...

They don't understand. They don't understand</i> what plagues me night after night in my dreams, the horrors I see... They were amused when I told them, told them that I saw their innards being eaten and their corpses being skinned alive. They didn't believe me...

Some of them even called me a monster, for killing her... You think you wouldn't sate the bloodthirsty urges forced upon you, if it, for even one night, would stop the night terrors from cursing you? You think you are that strong? I never said I was a strong man, just one trying to get through life... but they didn't believe me. They thought since I was tall, and big, that nothing scared me, the way children believed their parents feared nothing... wrong.

Tonight is the night, the monsters told me, the night that they would finally reign once more. But they don't know that. I told them, but they passed it off as an insane rambling from an insane man. I'm not crazy, at least, not yet. I don't know what I'll do, when I see them all dead... will I laugh, or will I cry? Maybe I won't have time, maybe they'll just kill me, too, even if I am their Prophet. Maybe it's for the best.

But, I hold out hope, that one of them believed me, and that we'll be saved, and they'll realize...

I'm not crazy.
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Submitted on
August 7, 2009
File Size
2.5 KB
Mature Content