STARGHOST

Chapter Eight

They pace the hallways up and down, back and forth, the 'walking dead'... These poor patients and the severe difficulties they find in simple living, everyday was a battle. And the drugs... The drugs assisted in turning them into the pacing walkers of the dead, and this was a temporary solution to keep them from being the 'immobile dead'.
There was no need to perform at this point or to clone the walk of the dead, I had been given the forty eight hour promise yesterday and in twenty four more hours id be out of here.
No more drugs, it was time to get healthy, it was time to stop inviting in all of this darkness, this evil that I've been holding on to. I had to really think about that. Was I inviting this evil? Perhaps it was a subconscious invitation and that surely was more believable; more buyable.
I spent a good two hours out back, smoking in studious paralysis, awaiting what seemed to be the inevitable arrival of my little black friend but he never came, he cheated me of his expected cameo, and once again, I began to doubt what his presence suggested to me only a few days prior. I began to question my mind, my memory. Maybe I missed my opportunity for help, but I had to let that go now, twenty four more hours and nothing will have changed. That's not true, I was going to make changes, healthy changes...
Perhaps I was off the hook... Perhaps with these changes Id never see my black friend and my visitor friend ever again. Whether they never existed or I would will them away didn't seem to matter. Perhaps Id get another shot at sanity. Go back to the stars forever you star fucker, you vile creature...
Just twenty four hours and Ill slip out of state. No goodbye to Patrick or to anyone else. It was time to just disappear. It was time to put it all behind me. It was time to credit my dreams and imagination for the manifestation of this evil.
I just need new aesthetics, a new start and time... Time would protect me from the retained image of those eyes; of that mouth... Time could unpaint that image of ancient evil and turn this non-fiction into the wonderful world of fiction where it rightfully belongs.
I felt the impulse to seek out the homeless man before I set out to Courtney's... I wasn't sure what Id say to him and somehow the prospect of this conversation presented a strange fear and I decided against it. It wouldn't be progressive, if I was making changes, then I need a no looking back policy.
It was time to leave this all in the past. I was done giving it life. I was done participating. I was done.