Double-Crossed

Chapter One, Visitor

    I slowly opened my eyes. Looking around, I could tell by the sun that it was morning. I frowned. I guess I had finally fallen asleep last night after all those hours of lying there, thinking. Regretting. Hating.

I hated being awake. There was no point. Sleeping isn't much of an improvement, though. I get nightmares whenever I finally do get the luxury of being unconscious.

I slowly got out of bed and walked over to my dresser. It hadn't been touched in a few weeks. I guess you could say that I haven't been taking care of myself, but I don't think I deserve it anyway. I looked at the glass shards scattered around the floor and memories came flooding back.

I looked into the mirror, grimacing as I did so. I looked awful. My hair was everywhere, and I had been wearing the same clothes for who knows how long. Anger began boiling up inside. Anger at myself, at the world. I just kept staring and staring at my pitiful reflection until I snapped and punched it with all of my strength.

 Glass flew everywhere. A few sharp pieces were buried into my fist. I flinched and looked at the blood beginning to drip from my knuckles.

'A little blood never hurt anybody,' I thought as I laid back down.

I touched my hand tenderly. It looked swollen and infected. The larger pieces had fallen out on their own, but there was no doubt some small ones were still in there. Not like I'd bother to get them out, though.

My stomach groaned loudly. I don't really remember the last time I ate, but I just don't have the motivation to get food. I guess I'll live.

The stench coming from my body, from my clothes, was enough to keep my appetite away. I had a working shower, but I would never allow myself to use it.

I deserve to live in filth. I deserve to starve. I deserve every bit of the pain that I feel.

I sat down on a wooden chair next to my bed. I stared wistfully out the window. What I would give to see the Truffulas out there again. Or even just one. Then maybe a Barbaloot or two would come back and save me from the loneliness I'm feeling.

Just then, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I scooted closer to get a better look. Maybe it was my imagination. No, I could have sworn I saw something. Wait! There it is again! I squinted against the bright sun. I saw a small figure standing in the empty, treeless field. It was so far away that I couldn't tell what it was. I watched as it began to move closer and closer. I was slowly beginning to see details.

"What the...?"

No, it couldn't be. My mind's just playing tricks on me. All these months spent inside, that must be it.

That's the only logical explanation for what I'm seeing right now, because...

I can see myself walking outside.

"It's happening. I'm going crazy," I said in shock.

In a state of pure terror, I began to rip up the floorboards. I have to keep myself from looking out there ever again. I tore out the nails and began hammering the floorboards over my window, using a hammer that was conveniently enough in my room. Probably there from when my business was still running. My hand slipped and hit my finger hard. I cried out but continued beating the nails in. I'm never looking out there again. Never, never, never,

"Augh!"

I had hit my finger again. I realized that tears had begun to blur my vision.

"I don't want to go crazy!" I yelled. "I don't want to be insane!"

I sat down on the dirty floor and cried bitterly. I cried like a child, sobbing until every last tear was shed.

"How did I end up like this?" I whispered.