Well, I'm going to be honest. I didn't know what to do now. It would be easy to just ignore Tabetha's clear issues. I mean, people destroy their lives all the time, right? Bad people, good people. It was all the same. Besides, I wouldn't even know how to help her. She told me not to bother, right? Is that a cry for help or should I really ignore her? I didn't know and, at least then, I didn't want to think about it. I spent a few days simply living my life, going to school, coming back, napping. But then the weekend came. It was like any other weekend. I was alone in my room, watching TV. Unfortunately for me, my loneliness ate at me, corroding my thoughts. Now, this was normal. I almost never went out, so this was no surprise. I'd just go to sleep, get up, and be better. So, I did that. But I was not better. I decided to go to the kitchen and grab a snack. Food, yes, food. That always makes me feel better, right? I made myself a Nutella sandwich...okay, a few Nutella sandwiches...okay, I made and ate ten Nutella sandwiches. But I only felt guilty and fat, so I went to sleep again. It must have been 2 hours before I got back up. And I felt no different. What was this feeling? This nagging loneliness. The guilt of eating a lot. I normally feel no shame in eating! TV usually subsides the pain of loneliness. Why not today? I wasn't sure. I didn't know what to do, but all I did know was that I only felt worse after I woke up. So, I'd just sleep as long as possible and there would be no pain, right? So, I went to sleep again.
I was so wrong. The nightmares, the horrors. Why is it that I only recall the worst dreams? I was back in the white room Tabetha took me to about a week ago. I looked around the room and there was nobody there. But then, there she was. As I was spinning out of control in the middle of the room, every time I saw her, she was crying. But her tears were that of blood. And the blood slowly dripped on the floor, like water droplets dripping off a table after a spill. I stopped spinning. And she faded away. Coupled with a clicking sound, the lights turned off and, for a moment, all I saw was her lifeless body. That was it. Just her nearly-dead body in the middle of a black scene. Then she transformed into a puddled reflection and, as my vision panned up, I was back in the white room. Except I wasn't alone. She was in there with me, her head missing. As I lost coordination, I fell towards the ground and I saw her grab my shoulders, headless. Yet, through some inexplicable dream logic, her tears still formed in her nonexistent eyes. And I felt myself drowning in the room, which was filling with her tears must faster than her invisible tear sacs formed them. As the salty pool of tears reached head level, I ducked underwater and tried to swim to the door, but I couldn't make it. She stood underwater, unmoving and simply grabbed my arms, like a hug, but without the love. I tried to escape from her clutches, but the pressure against my arms grew stronger and stronger. Then, again, she disappeared. And I heard a loud draining sound. The ocean of her tears disappeared, and, for a moment, everything was normal. But then I noticed I still couldn't move. And I still couldn't breathe. I was right at the door and my hand hovered right above the doorknob, but I couldn't turn it. I couldn't move my legs or my face. Only my eyes, and they tracked to her decapitated head right at my feet, a stream of blood lagging behind her lifeless head. Suddenly, the entire scene panned around. There was a bird's eye view of the room, me in the room, paralyzed and looking at her head. The room started inverting colors quickly. White, black, white, black, white, black. Over and over and over again. Until I finally managed to open the door. I walked outside, back in my first-person view. It was completely black. As I looked across the vast void of nothingness, I saw only one thing. A skeleton just stared at me, contracting its orbits and pointing its withering hand at me. "Help her," it whispered and yelled at the same time. Finally, I woke up, a pool of sweat dripping from my face.
YOU ARE READING
as the way comes
General Fiction[redacted] is a 17-year old kid in high school. He is sort of a lonely kid until one day, he meets an attractive young woman who saves him from the feeling. He decides to go with the flow and see what happens. That is, until he doesn't.
