Paranoiac

CHAPTER 5

The weight of the silence kept pressing in on me, threatening to drown me if I so much as blinked. Suddenly, the paranoia started to kick in, one of the few aspects of my disorder that I had learned to control over my lifetime. This suffocating fear began attacking me from every angle of my room. Every window was an invitation for axe murderers, every kitchen knife an able bodied killer, every drop of rain hitting my roof a solidified nigtmare trying to law it's way inside. I staggered through my small home, hurtling myself towards every window, locking each one and pulling the blinds down tightly. I began pushing my couch frantically towards the front door, trying to block any opportunity for entrance into my oasis. That's when it all started. The knocking. Someone was knocking on my door rapidly, urgently. As i crashed through the kitchen trying to seal the windows, I caught a glance at the colock on my wall, it read 9:47. That's when it all started. The begging. Someone was at my door, yelling and screaming, but this time, not screaming profanities at me, not calling me names, but begging for help. A child. It was a child. The small voice hollered at me through the bolted door, "Help! Please, open the door! Help me!" Over and over, the cries of distress echoed through my house. What should I do? I can't open the door, it could be anyone! I of all people should know the kinds of things that can happen when you foolishly open a door to a stranger. My breath was ragged as I stiffly pushed the couch the rest of the way, completely blocking the front door. As if the child could tell what I'd done, the cries grew louder, more desperate. "HELP! Please! I'm so scared!" I started backing away from the door, my wole body convulsing violently until I slammed into the back wall, my head crashing down upon the solid edge of the kitchen counter. My vision slowly started fading to black as I tasted my own warm blood trickling down onto my quaking lips.