Show MoreI waved to my friends as they disappeared down the street in a hansom cab. I had just spent a pleasant evening with them at the theater. Laughing and making merry. But now I needed to be alone. Throughout the course of the evening, a pressure had been building within my head. At first it had been slight, but by the end of the evening, I was finding it difficult to concentrate. This was not the first time it had happened to me. Over the course of a few months I had started to feel it, as if there was something within me trying to get out. I had gone and seen countless doctors but none of them seemed to think there was anything wrong with me. So I dismissed it. But in the past few weeks, I had felt it more regularly. That was when the…show more content…
But no matter how fast I ran, or where I went, whatever seemed to be chasing me was always there. As I ran the sensation in my head intensified until it became excruciating pain. I rounded a corner and collapsed. The pain too much to bare. I screamed, then blacked out. Either from fear, or pain I am not sure.
The next thing I knew I was lying in my bed, in my apartment. Sunlight streaming through the window. I had no recollection of how I came to be there; images of violence and screams of the innocent still echoing within my head. There was a knock at the door. I called out, but no one answered. The knocking continued, this time more insistent. Light headed and exhausted, I stumble feebly to the door. But by the time I arrived and flung open the door, whomever it had been was gone.. It was only as I was closing the door that I noticed a letter on my doorstep. Making my way to the nearest chair, I sat and began to open the envelope. It was sealed shut with red wax that bore the insignia of my family, whom I knew nothing about. I had been orphaned at a young age, and had never known my parents. This was the first time that I had seen anything sporting the crest of my family, save the ring I constantly wore on my finger, which I had been told belonged to my father. Upon realizing this I frantically tore open the letter and read:
“Although you have not seen me, nor met me, I have been
It was a blazing summer’s day. My surroundings were slowly starting to melt: the trees, the houses, the sky, and the pathway to my garage. It seemed that I was about to dissipate as well, becoming a puddle of glue-like substance left on the ground.
I was walking at crawling speed. My head felt huge and heavy, and each muscle in my body felt sore. My arms and legs were responding to the signals that my brain was sending to them at a slower speed than I thought was possible. It felt like a slow-motion horror movie, only it was happening live. I finally reached the front door and touched the handle with a loose grip. The path that took only a second for my eyes to see took about twenty minutes for my body to cover. But, I was finally at my goal.
I slowly squeezed the handle of the door in a downwards motion, only to realize it had barely moved. I gathered the last reserves of my strength that I had left in my body and pressed the handle again. No success. I pivoted around, leaned against the door,
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