PARACIDE

Chapter 11: Cracks in Control

Sam was sitting in the living room, staring blankly at the old, flickering TV, trying to lose himself in the mindless noise. His head was still pounding from earlier, a dull ache that refused to let go. He’d done everything he could to ignore it, but nothing worked. It was as if something inside him was clawing to break free.

Jen stood at the doorway, watching him with crossed arms. Sam didn’t notice her at first, too wrapped up in his own thoughts. But when she cleared her throat, he turned toward her, blinking out of his daze.

"You’ve been acting weird," Jen said, her voice unusually serious. "Weirder than usual, I mean."

Sam’s heart skipped a beat. His throat felt dry. "I’m fine," he muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "It’s nothing."

Jen didn’t buy it. She took a few steps closer, her gaze fixed on him like she was trying to peel away his layers. "No, it’s not nothing. You’ve been getting those headaches more, and you’re barely talking. Mom’s worried, and honestly… so am I."

The pounding in Sam’s head intensified, his temples throbbing with each word. He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breathing. He didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t want anyone prying into his business.

"I told you, I’m fine," he repeated, his voice more forceful this time. He glared at her, hoping it would be enough to make her back off.

But Jen wasn’t one to back down. She stood her ground, her eyes narrowing. "You’re lying," she said flatly. "Something’s going on with you, and I want to know what it is. You think you can just show up here, act all mysterious, and we won’t ask questions? We deserve to know what’s really going on with you."

Sam’s vision blurred for a moment, the headache now a sharp, stabbing pain that cut through his skull like a knife. His heart raced, anger bubbling beneath the surface. "You don’t know anything about me," he growled, standing up abruptly. His hands were shaking, and the room felt like it was closing in on him.

Jen took a step back, startled by the sudden aggression. But she didn’t back down. "Then tell me! Stop acting like some ticking time bomb and just say what’s going on!"

Sam’s head felt like it was splitting open. His hands twitched involuntarily, every muscle in his body tightening. The rage was building, and it was becoming harder and harder to control. His mind flashed with violent images—memories of the nightmare, of what he’d done in that dream, of the blood, the cold satisfaction. He felt the anger rising, consuming him, drowning out all reason.

"Shut up!" he shouted, his voice raw and vicious. He stepped toward her, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. "You don’t know anything, so just stay out of it!"

Jen’s eyes widened in shock, but she didn’t move. "Sam, calm down," she said, her voice a mix of fear and concern. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

The question only made it worse. His head pounded louder, his vision narrowing. His breathing became ragged, shallow. He couldn’t think—couldn’t stop the flood of anger and pain that was rushing through him. All he wanted was for her to stop talking, to stop pressing him.

"Get away from me!" he yelled, his voice filled with venom. He shoved her, hard, sending her stumbling back against the wall.

Jen gasped, clutching her arm where he’d pushed her, her face a mix of confusion and hurt. She stared at him, wide-eyed, as if seeing him for the first time. "Sam..." her voice was small, almost broken. "What the hell is going on with you?"

Sam stood there, panting, his mind swirling with chaos. For a moment, he didn’t recognize himself. The violence, the rage—it wasn’t him, but it had come from somewhere deep inside. Somewhere he couldn’t control.

His hands shook violently as he looked at Jen, who stood frozen against the wall. The realization of what he’d just done started to creep in, but it was distant, muffled by the overwhelming pain in his head.

"Just... leave me alone," Sam muttered, his voice shaking, barely audible. He turned away, not able to face her anymore.

Jen didn’t say anything else. She just stood there, staring at him, before silently slipping out of the room.

Sam collapsed back onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. His chest heaved with rapid breaths, his whole body trembling. The headache throbbed relentlessly, a painful reminder of the darkness simmering inside him.

What the hell is wrong with me?