Burden.

Part 5: The Door

              Drugs. He remembered when he was little, when he used to be like the kids that he ate, he had an uncle. His uncle was addicted to them— drugs—then one day he had overdosed and died; that's what made John become a father. Father John. He wanted to lead people away from the path his uncle had gone on, he wanted to save them.

                       That's what this is, a drug, it's all a drug, but you can fight it.

John grunted. The voice was annoying, every time he'd get hungry it'd come right back, along with the feelings—so many feelings—not just the normal hunger and anger. There was joy, happiness, sadness. John hated that last one, it made him cry. Cry. What a weird word, it sounded sharp, felt sharp too. John looked around, he was in a house now, when did he get in a house? John shook his head, it was the voice, it kept distracting him, he just needed to ignore it. John pushed himself up off of what he was laying down on and walked around. His children were all asleep and he had just fed them so their stomachs' were nice and full. John walked up the stairs and felt a sliver of a memory flash across his eyes as he looked at the hallway. John walked up to a door that felt familiar and tried to push it open, then looked at the thing sticking out from it when it wouldn't move. Doorknob. John grabbed it and pushed, but the door still wouldn't open.

                  You're supposed to turn it, John. Are you really this far gone?

John growled, stupid voice wouldn't shut up, kept coming back.

                  Come on, John, just turn it.

John scratched his head, trying to get at the voice.

                  Just do it, John, and I'll leave you alone.

John grumbled then, not knowing what else to do, turned the doorknob and pushed. The door opened; it worked. John smiled, then winced as he felt something hot stab him in the back of his head. As John went to feel it, the world faded into black as he fell unconscious.