Dementia

Chapter 1

If there's one thing in the world that I'm sure of, it's that I can never trust my own mind.

I had my first occurrence in middle school.

Me and my friends were on our way home when it happened. I was about to tell a stupid joke when an old man who looks like he was in his seventies came up and asked for money.

He limped towards us and you could already see his bones stretched across his body. He held up his bony fingers as he came closer.

My friends didn't acknowledge him at all and I couldn't help but look at them back and forth. The old man stared at me with pitiful eyes so I finally took initiative and grabbed the spare change in my pocket and handed it to him with a reassuring smile.

"Thank you, young lady." He smiled.

And that's when I froze.

His teeth were all there. But they weren't human at all. They were sharp and pointed. Like a shark. Like it was ready to kill.

He kept walking towards me as I started to back away. His smile turned more viscious and looked like he was about to attack me with those beast-like teeth. I tried to run but my feet were stuck on the ground. My heart was already palpitating and I couldn't do anything but scream as he took a step closer to me. I could feel his hands slowly grabbing my throat.

That's when I fainted.

I woke up a day later in my bed, where I was greeted by the sight of my friends and parents. I asked them about the old man and they looked at me with perplexed expressions as they explained that there was no old man. All that happened was I just started shouting in the middle of our conversation and suddenly fainted.

"Maybe it was just a dream." They said.

'Maybe it was. Maybe it was just all a figment of my imagination.'

It started getting out of hand since then.

A million insects would start crawling and flying around the classroom. I would always wonder why my classmates weren't disgusted by them flying over their faces. I tried speaking up, but the insects would just start to buzz together at the same time and dissapear without a trace.

Sometimes I would talk to stray dogs just to hear them complain about the garbage people are leaving these days. It then became a habit to take the leftovers from my house and give them to the dogs when I see them. In exchange, they keep me company on my short walks when I have nothing better to do.

And then there were voices. They would start whispering things in my ear and I would always reply back. Sometimes we would have a full blown conversation out loud, shutting the world out temporarily. They would pop out at different intervals and stay with me for a while, depending on the situation.

That was the cycle of my life. I didn't care about the strange things that I kept seeing around me. I was used to crazy. Until the worst night of my life happened.

I was in my room, reading a novel when I heard a knock on my door.

"Sweetie, can I come in?" My mom asked.

"Go ahead."

I could see something dripping from my mom's foot as the door opened. The puddle of liquid got larger and larger by the second.

It was blood.

I was starting to panic when suddenly my mom finally went inside my room.

But it wasn't her.

Instead, I was staring at a distorted woman's face. Her face was burnt and you could see the skull on some parts. She was limping as she smiled at me and held up the rope in her hands.

She stared at me with pitch black eyes. You could see the black veins running inside her hands and legs.

"Come on sweetie, don't be afraid." The woman said as she came closer to me. I tried to run but she caught my arms, throwing me back to my bed as she tied the rope around my throat. She held my hands and feet, tying them up so I couldn't move. Her blood kept dripping from her face and landing on my body. I tried screaming but she covered my mouth with her other hand.

She kept on singing lullabies as she was tightening the knot around my throat. I was already choking and clawing my way out of her hold but to no avail. I couldn't think straight anymore and my lungs were trying hard to capture a single breathe of air.

I could feel my chest slowly giving up as I faded into oblivion.

My parents found me an hour after I came back to reality. I was sitting on the very corner of my room rocking back and forth while muttering incoherent thoughts to myself.

They tried to get me to bed but whenever they tried laying a finger on me, I scream. I could still see those pitch black eyes trying to choke me to death. I never came out of my room and I stopped talking to anyone but the voices that screamed in my head.

My mom tried to make me eat and sleep but I was persistent. I couldn't function properly. I became a zombie dwelling in my own abode.

After a week, they pursuaded me to go see a doctor for help.

To say I overreacted is an understatement.

I kept on yelling nonsense things and started throwing everything I could get my hands on.

When our neighbor, Mr. Rivero, started knocking in our front door to complain about my loud mouth and smashes of different objects being heard, I told him to go away.

He didn't, instead he started blubbering and shouting things about peace and quietness so I did what I had to do.

I threw a plate across Mr. Rivero's grumpy old face.

Somehow, because of that, I was now dubbed a nutcase. Apparently, I was "unstable" enough to live in the outside world.

Unstable my ass.

When my parents couldn't take it anymore, they decided to drag me to the nearest mental institution they could find for their poor little girl.

Dr. Vivaldi's face greeted me when I first entered Ridgemond and as soon as he introduced himself as my new pyschiatrist, he made me sit down and stuck a needle on my arm.

Obviously, I got angry and tried to reach his little bald head but before I could sink my hands on his face, I could feel myself slowly shutting down.

So much for clawing his eyes out.

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A/N: Hi guys! Thanks for reading the first chapter! I really appreciate it. If you get confused or whatnot, don't worry, that's my intention from the start. LOL. Anyways, feel free to vote and comment!

- Xavanah J.