Dancing With Demons

•Chapter 6•

Mark
  It was one of the only days he was in the house alone. Amy had taken the doggos with her on a walk. It was weird, Mark didn't exactly like silence. He was one of those people who never shut up, and never fancied being alone.

Mark ran a hand through his sopping wet hair. He had just gotten dressed after taking a cold shower, being too hot to even have it at lukewarm. He sighed at his tired reflection, thinking about the dream he had.

"Does this mean I really have schizophrenia," he asked his reflection, thinking about what that thing said.

"Fight your illness."

The sentence repeated in his head as he grew more upset. Mark grabbed a brush from the bathroom drawer and started combing it through his unkept hair. "I need a haircut," "I think it looks good." Mark jumped at voice, the brush falling out of his hand and clattering onto the tile. "Ugh, what do you want," Mark groaned, remembering that it was the same guy who's been haunting his dreams recently. "Are you slow," it asked mockingly. "Do you not remember our conversation before you woke up?!" Mark stared into the mirror, continuing to comb out the knots. "I already see you in my dreams, is this gonna be a common thing for you to just talk to me throughout the day?" "This does not matter." It growled, echoing through Mark's head. Mark set the brush down and headed downstairs to eat some shit. He felt starving.

"What matters is our deal," "I never made any deals!" Mark retorted, grabbing a plate out of the cabinet and placing it on the counter. "Look, if you don't want to be a 30 year old schizophrenic psycho then I'd consider my offer." Mark stopped dead in his tracks, his slight smile fading into a frown. "So I do have it," sadness bled through his voice. "Maybe, i wouldn't be too sure of it," "then again. Why should I trust you? All you've been doing is terrorizing me in my dreams, making me have headaches, and overheat!" There was a pause, "because I was trying to get your attention." Mark rolled his eyes, bullshit. "Whatever, Just consider my offer."

It shut up, and Mark no longer heard it's constant rambling. He hated the thought of this thing being in his head, affecting his dreams and condition. It was honestly terrifying. But, to not have schizophrenia, he might just take him up on that offer.

"Eh whatever, I got shit to do." Mostly just editing videos, he filmed a lot, he needed something to distract him for a bit. So that's what he did. He ate cheez-it's while editing his Uno video. Mark opened up the face-cams Jack, Bob, and Wade sent and began to look over them. He went to see how long each face-cam was, Bob and Wade's being almost exactly the same, Jack's being a little shorter since he came into the video late. He watched Bob's, making sure there were no audio or visual problems, before watching Jacks. No problems so far. In one moment, Jack threw up his arms and Mark saw a bandage on his left arm, blood seeping through it in a line. He frowned, pausing it to look at his arm.

Not knowing why, he decided to call Jack. Maybe because of worry, or because of boredom. He didn't know anymore.

"Hey Mark," Jack greeted, saying his name in a funny way, making it sound like he was saying 'Merk'. "Hey I'm editing the video, and I saw that your arm was bleeding in your camera." Jack got suddenly got quiet, not really saying anything. "And it looks pretty big, might I ask what happened?" "Oh-um- just an accident while cutting something," Mark immediately knew he was lying. Why though? "Oh," things got awkward, being that none of them really said anything. "Well thanks for caring in the first place. I didn't think you'd notice," "yeah, I've been noticing some things I haven't really been noticing before." "Yeah I bet, well, sorry to cut this short but I have a really bad migraine right now and meds won't seem to help, so I'm probably gonna try sleeping. If I can. So, I'll see ya later Mark." "Hope you feel better, see ya." He ended the phone call, letting his phone fall down on the arm of the couch.