UNSOUND

2.05 am

"I am walking," I think.

Now that doesn't seem like something extraordinary, seeing as humans have been walking since the beginning of time. However, it should be stated that I. Am. Walking. 

I am walking to an unknown destination with no recollection on how this journey started. One minute I am laying in bed, the next minute I am walking barefoot in the street. All I know is that I am in a hurry to get there.

"And where is 'there' exactly?"

The street is quiet. No one - not even the domesticated animals - is awake. The street lights provide no light on the path that I am walking on. It seems that they have failed their purpose and what is an object without its purpose?

In my unconscious walk out of my home, I only grabbed a jacket. However, I am shivering -whether it be from the cold or the realisation of what I have done.

"Why did you leave?" I ask myself. 

Waiting for an answer, all the faces of the people I know pop into my head. Mom and Dad. Aunt Janet and Uncle Keenan. The mail man and the family doctor. All of them I know and all of them want an  answer. 

"I do not know,"  I reply.

I stop walking. 

"I do not know," I repeat.

It finally dawns on me. I finally realise my purpose. With no protest, I run back to the grey building I call home.  St Giles Mental Hospital is its name. 

When I enter the air conditioned building, I am struck by how still it is. There is no other living body besides myself in the cold building.

I walk past unmoving bodies on the -once pristine- floor. The bodies are drowning in blood. I look down and see that my hands and clothes are covered in blood as well. 

I approach the door guarding my room. The number 25 is bolted onto the door.

"Home sweet home," I think.

With no other thought in my mind, I slip into my bed and sleep.