Along Came a Murderer

Stay Calm

The next morning when I woke up, I felt sick. My body was in pain, and everything felt terrible. How long will this go on for? I can't stand this anymore. For some reason, I'd rather be back at the hospital.

Wait, why am I even thinking about that god awful place? Everyone there are mindless idiots. But should I consider going back? As much as of a terrible idea that is, I'm pretty sure I'd feel a lot better and safer if I were back in the hospital.

My thoughts were zooming around in my head. There wasn't one thought I had to focus on. There was thousands of thoughts in my head. They were too overwhelming for me, so I had to calm down for a bit.

"I should go on a walk or something. I need time to think..." I stood up to grab my trench coat and put it on. Another note fell out of my sleeve. I picked it up and read it.

"Your actions can lead to serious damage in the future. And it's all based on the thoughts that go through your head. Don't let your thoughts control you. You control your thoughts. It's the only way to save yourself."

It's almost as if they want me to lose my mind again. But I'm not gonna let some punk who keeps leaving me weird notes mess up my life. I'm trying to live a normal life again. I don't need to end up in a mental hospital for the rest of my life.

As I walked through the park, I noticed people looking at me. Everyone used to love me in this town. Now they're terrified of me and try to avoid walking in my way. As I walked, yet again, I found another note in my pocket.

"Seriously! Who keeps giving me these notes?!" I opened up the note.

"If you don't have happy thoughts, you won't live a happy life."

I ripped the note into pieces and threw the pieces on the ground. "The next note I find, I am literally going to lose it." Before I continued my thought, I stopped to look at a man who was leaning against a tree, looking at me.

The way he was positioned made it hard to see his face. I shrugged to myself, and putt my hands in the pockets of my trench coat, and continued on walking.

Just ignore him, I thought to myself. My heart dropped when I felt something in my pocket. "Please don't tell me that's what I think it is..."

I grabbed it, and pulled it out of my pocket. "How do I still have this...?"

It was the pocket knife I used to kill that man on the bus. When I got caught, they took this thing away from me, and never gave it back. So how do I have it? How did it end up in my pocket again?

I looked back at the man who was leaning against the tree, but he was already gone. "What the hell is going on?"

This was too confusing for me to deal with. So I just started heading back home again. None of this felt right. It feels like everything is out to get me. I have no idea how all of these notes are ending up in random places that I'll stumble across later on in the day. And I have no clue how my pocket knife ended up back in my pocket again.

I felt a little safer once I was back home again. Showing my face in public should be avoided for a couple more days.