Killing Chris

The Red Hour

"To all that followed this story in support of Chris, I want you to know Chris cared more about the truth than anything else. He wanted justice for his friends more than he wanted life itself. He was devoted to sharing his story with the world because he didn't wanna be in his fear alone. All of us, all of you shared a little bit of the fear Chris felt leading up to the end of his journey and I know whenever he is now, he would love that you were so devoted to the story you're still reading.

Chris was... amazing, frightening, intelligent beyond his years, funny, and so unique before... the killer. I didn't get to see him in his final days but I'm sure his character stood strong in the face of adversity. The events described in the last entry by Chris was a mental disorder event in which his mind simply unraveled under the pressure. Don't get me wrong everything he described in his entry was real for him, that all happened, down to every small detail.

The investigation of the identity of the killer will be continued by his father, the local police chief.   As we mourn Chris may we take this lesson to heart he suffered in silence so we didn't have to, if you need help reach out, no battles are won in silence Use your voice like your life depends on it because one day it very well may. Be the light on someone's dark path so they may learn to walk the path with others.

We all get lost in the dark...fight your way out for all the people who never could. There's always something you make better by being here. We may never know what drove Chris to do what he did, but we will love him anyway. For love is the light in this dark world."

Sorry if that was a scare for you all right there. Have no fear Chris is here. When the patients here hit "rock bottom" Dr. Green has us right what we would want someone to say at our funeral if we died. And describe what we want to accomplish by the time we die. My rock bottom was last night... My red hour.

Dr. Green says a patient's red hour is when the patient's mind unravels for a short period of time under extreme pressure and stress. For the most part, a patient's first psychiatric break doesn't cause their death...It only feels like it. boy did that all feel real. I felt the terror when I saw the painter woman, I felt the blade of the killer, and I felt as the tall man dug into my stomach. it felt too real to be anything but real.

I guess that's why we are in here after all. The crazy people live here, we don't get to be sick we are just crazy. No benefit of the doubt of us nutcases. Dr.green found me in the morning laying on the cold hallway floor on my back. He says my eyes were wide open and I was shaking like crazy but I don't really remember that. The first thing I remember is being taken to the medical wing to get checked out.

The doctor looked over me and cleared me to go back to my room and Dr. Green stayed with me the whole time. I wasn't sure what to make of him yet...He was obviously crazy but did he know his shit when it came to psych? When I finally made it back to my room that morning I was exhausted, I don't think I slept a second the night before. 

After the red hour, I started having one on one meetings with Dr. Green, in our first session he had me write and present that thing you read at the beginning of this entry. My eulogy? or maybe it was a speech by a friend? I don't know but it doesn't matter it wasn't real. 

For the first time since I had arrived at the hospital, my parents came to visit. it wasn't like prison visits my parents got to come into the facility and sit in a meeting room with me. I wasn't required to wear handcuffs and we could hug each other. the cooks brought out lunch which was better than usual to create an illusion of excellent care. I didn't mind though I was just happy to see my parents.

"When can I get out of here mom? I'm scared" I said to her

"Whenever Dr. Green says that your better, I don't want to get home and then be still..." She started but I interrupted

"Crazy...You can just say it mom" I burst out

"I was gonna say... sick, honey," she said grabbing my hand

"Dad please, let me come home" I pleaded

He looked at my mom "Listen to your mother, son"

What a classic answer for a dad. Scared to upset the mother so they agree regardless of what they really believe. I was starting to question if maybe I did belong here but Id rather be crazy and home than Crazy and in a Crazy place. But if I was really gonna get help here I guess it wouldn't be the worst thing to stay here

After a long meeting with my parents, I hugged them goodbye and they promised to be back in a week. I walked back to my room by myself wondering if Dieg would be in our next group. Which led me to think if Vaun's death was part of my red hour. Was Vaun even really dead? Did a nurse even die?

When I got back to the room there was an envelope on my bed and Rhys laid under the covers of his bed on the right side of the room.

"Rhys... Who dropped this off?" I asked holding the envelope up

"I don't know, It has no stamps or address so it must have come from someone inside the building," Rhys replied 

I sat on my bed and ripped the top of the envelope pulling the note out. It was a lined piece of paper with words written in crayon. It read: I wonder how it feels to find out you've been living among the very killer whos been torturing you, I wouldn't know, but you would. I stood up and ran over to Rhys.

"Rhys what does this say please read this right now," I said shoving it in his face

"You forget how to read or something," He said rolling over grabbing the note

"it says... I'm not your fucking mother... if you want a story read to you ask Cayetana shes always in the mood for games" Rhys responded throwing the note at my feet

"Please I need to know if I'm crazy?" I begged picking the note up 

"We're all mad here...Remember," Rhys said huffing

"Fine give me it...I wonder how it feels to find out you've been living among the very killer whos been torturing you, I wouldn't know, but you would." Rhys read aloud.

I grabbed the note and sat back down on my bed. 

The killer...was... here.

Oh and P.S. I forgot to log out under my profile last entry so the mark wasn't my name but I won't forget again... Sorry.

Chris Logged Off