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[for ellen]
Oct. 30th, 2012 07:22 pmI'm being followed.
It's a feeling I haven't been able to shake for weeks. A creeping paranoia that sits on my shoulder like a weight... I hear things. The inexplicable sound of traffic. The percussion of rainfall against asphalt. The soft rush of fabric of a Hand ninja come by to visit. Yet every time I go looking for the source, I'm met with the lush jungle of Tabula Rasa. A wild animal. A crack of thunder overhead.
I feel like I'm going out of my mind. Almost everyone I've grown close to in this place has disappeared over a period of a few weeks, and I'm beginning to worry that they ever existed in the first place. If they weren't just... Delusions of some kind. No more real than the phantoms that've haunted me for the better part of this year. Then I wonder if these aren't just the nightmares that everyone's talking about. If I'm not just another victim...
But I'm not afraid of New York. I'm not afraid of the dangers that come from being at home... Going back wouldn't be a nightmare at all, it'd be a relief, and yet--
There it is again. I stop in my tracks, straining my ears to see if I can't catch the son of a bitch, but I've got bigger problems that need my attention. Because I can't just operate on the notion that none of this real, not without checking on one of the few people who's still left to me...
"Ellen!" I shout, wasting no time to pound on her door. If I'm one of the victims, who knows what'll crawl out of the recesses of my mind tomorrow. I've lost too many lovers to my enemies. "Ellen, it's Matt-- I'm coming in."
It's a feeling I haven't been able to shake for weeks. A creeping paranoia that sits on my shoulder like a weight... I hear things. The inexplicable sound of traffic. The percussion of rainfall against asphalt. The soft rush of fabric of a Hand ninja come by to visit. Yet every time I go looking for the source, I'm met with the lush jungle of Tabula Rasa. A wild animal. A crack of thunder overhead.
I feel like I'm going out of my mind. Almost everyone I've grown close to in this place has disappeared over a period of a few weeks, and I'm beginning to worry that they ever existed in the first place. If they weren't just... Delusions of some kind. No more real than the phantoms that've haunted me for the better part of this year. Then I wonder if these aren't just the nightmares that everyone's talking about. If I'm not just another victim...
But I'm not afraid of New York. I'm not afraid of the dangers that come from being at home... Going back wouldn't be a nightmare at all, it'd be a relief, and yet--
There it is again. I stop in my tracks, straining my ears to see if I can't catch the son of a bitch, but I've got bigger problems that need my attention. Because I can't just operate on the notion that none of this real, not without checking on one of the few people who's still left to me...
"Ellen!" I shout, wasting no time to pound on her door. If I'm one of the victims, who knows what'll crawl out of the recesses of my mind tomorrow. I've lost too many lovers to my enemies. "Ellen, it's Matt-- I'm coming in."