She sent the woods to me in an envelope, an envelope I wished I never opened.
I've been getting anonymous letters for 3 months now. And I cannot say in words how much my life has been demolished by them.
Say, stranger, are you going to read her let...
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The Game's On
Dear Maia,
It's too loud outside Maria. The tulips in the garden keep screaming at me. I can see their green leaves pointing upwards right at my window. I haven't been opening them for a while, it's cold outside.
It's so loud too.
I can hear Mom and Dad whispering in the dining. For the whole week they have been looking at me weirdly. Not letting me go out after dark in fear of the "midnight killer" out for hunt. Yes, that's the name they gave the killer since there have been already 3 deaths in the neighborhood, Mrs Percy Annabelle, Mr Kale Hartman and a boy named John Darwin.
All done amid the dark of the cold November midnight.
Mrs Percy's body was found drowned in the Riverstone Lake, Mr Hartman was found in his house with his mouth full of needles, and the boy, John's body was never found to begin with but the neighbourhood believes he is no more.
It is suspected that in all three cases the killer is the same person as there is a huge perfect circle found on each of their entrance door.
Three cases. Three different places.
All three slaughtered by me.
You might wonder Maria, why am I not afraid or at least concerned.
Well, it's the same as sitting lazily beside spilled milk. I can't feel any fear, I can't feel remorse either. But the flow of the thick white liquid seems kind of fascinating.
I'm not angry at the demons anymore.There's nothing to feel concerned for, it's already done.
Right now, I'm walking on this thin ribbon that separates dreams and reality and I can do nothing but walk further and further away from the origin. The mist thickens as I walk. It thickens to the point I can see no more.
Hah, Is it how it feel to be high?
And I really can't think of any reason for them to make such a huge deal about it!
Everyone knew Mrs Percy was nuts and always disturbed the whole neighborhood with her nasty rants when my parents where obviously out.
And Mr Harman!? That sweet old guy couldn't hide his binoculars well while peeping on his neighbour's windows, especially the ones that had women in them. He even peeped on that psycho old hag!
I was done with him the day he tried to flirt with me on Instagram. He didn't even use a fake account or anything, damn the overconfidence.
And John?
I just didn't like his face. Hah.
Ridiculous isn't it? Well, I can't help it. I can feel it. Day by day I'm turning into this monster, I can no longer tell the deference between the demons and people. Everything feels like shadows, the school, the house, the streets. Even the sky has been veiled in clouds, for too long I haven't seen the sun.
It's like walking on a thin ribbon. A thin vibrant red ribbon on which I put my step one by one amid the silent mist, my heels can't clank on the vermillion silk. On one side of the ribbon I see the reality, on the other I see dreams and nightmares dancing around the bonfire and it's all covered in pale mist and my vision gets blurry with each blink.
And yet I can't stop walking. The ribbon never ends, my heels never falters a step and I can never go back to home.
My actions are no longer in my control. I give up resisting. It's a losing battle anyway, to fight and win against the dreadful while being a mere human myself.
I don't want to talk about it in any more details. The cops came last night. They have been quite busy with the midnight killer lately. Especially with those circle marks they suspect it to be a cult or something instead of a single 18 years old in the neighborhood. Ah did I give away my age?
Trying to scribble it would make the letter look nasty, so have this information as a christmas gift, would you?
Anyway the neighbours don't seem to quite agree with the cops.
The whole neighborhood has begun to avoid us. Can't blame them since two of the victims were close to our family. Except for the slight taunting and discrimination by the shopkeepers in the market. Me and my family don't give a damn to these same old stuff.
But what I am concerned of is the fact that now my own parents have begun to suspect me.
It's all over written on their behaviour and their eyes, the same eyes as that shitty therapist of mine. The same eyes that speak with so certainly, "You are a liar".
I know why they give weird excuses to not let me out at night anymore, to not let me watch crime shows or spend too much time in the kitchen or on the lawn.
It's not to keep me safe or away the toxic neighbours like any normal parents would do for their normal kids.
It's a game to ensure that I don't commit anymore murders.
