Paranoiac Read online

  I sighed with relief when I turned around the corner and found the garden. It felt like it had been an eternity of nasty weather and flying debris. The entrance to the garden was barred by a long forgotten wooden gate. The gate, which was covered in vines and overgrown vegetation, was locked. I almost lost my mind with frustration when I realized the gate was only as high as my waist. I laughed at myself in embarrassment as I climbed over the fence, which was no match for my long legs.

  In the center of the garden was a pool, framed by a fence and lush garden. The flora was tall enough to block out any unwanted visitors, except me of course. The entire expanse was filled with beautiful flowers and small trees that I couldn’t name. Old statues littered the back yard, especially near the pool area. If my memory serves me correctly, most of the statues were from the original owners of the house. The lights around the garden gave off an eerie ambience. The caustic luminescence from the shimmering swimming pool only added to its’ creepiness. The pool was very large and at least nine feet deep. There were miniature waterfalls that formed into a small slide, all of which was surrounded by foliage and a small cherub-like statue. Underneath the waterfall and slide was a small hidden cove. A perfect place for romantic nothings, especially in this ethereal light. I stood watching the rain pierce into the glowing, turquoise pool before jogging through the patio that lead to the screened sunroom.

  As a kid I was never allowed to swim in the pool. My parents were either throwing pool parties or too lazy to supervise me. I swam in it maybe a handful of times as a preteen but as soon as my mom was diagnosed, my dad forbade it. When my mom got sick, my dad made up so many bullshit excuses and rules, always saying it was for my own good.

  Eventually when she was too drained to travel, my dad gave her a choice of where she wanted to live. She ultimately decided on this gaudy place. It didn’t matter that this house was far away from any emergency rooms or hospitals, she loved the heat and the privacy, even if she couldn’t leave the house. Dad would always fly in practitioners and specialists. He would spend a small fortune to keep her alive with all sorts of medical wonders and machines. I know it’s terribly selfish of me to feel this way but her being sick stunted my life. It was all about her, all about him and never about me. I was so neglected, starved for affection and friends and I wouldn’t have it till I ran away to college. Even though her death crushed me I was so relieved, I was free. And ultimately I was finally able to get away from him.

  Journal Entry Eleven

  The patio was covered by a plaster ceiling that extended from the sunroom. It was equipped with a large, stainless-steel, propane fueled grill, a bulky ceiling fan and numerous stereo speakers suspended in the corners. Even though my parents and their friends had eclectic tastes, they preferred classic rock music over classical pompousness. The ceiling fan was spinning lazily, the pull chains flopping with its motion. Shivers ran up my spine and for the first time I realized my teeth were chattering.

  Running over to the door of the sunroom, I was blinded by the flood lights, triggered the motion sensor. I hoped that the door was unlocked and twisted the knob with success. The moment I passed through the threshold a bright flash of lightning struck somewhere in the distance. As soon as I saw that pure white flash of electricity my surroundings were replaced with visions of sweet, amorous Molly. I tried to block the images of here petite face. In futility, I tried focusing on that sensual rumbling of the thunderous aftershock, but her smile kept piercing its' way through the veil.

  I couldn’t deny it anymore, my mental barrier was crumbling to pieces and I couldn’t stop myself from picking at the scabs. That black haired siren and her hypnotic eyes, piercing with a preternatural luminescence of emerald. I didn’t want to remember and I don’t know why. All I can recall is that I loved her with all of my heart.

  I can remember the sound of her adorable laughter, her milky pale skin, and the way she played with her hair. In a flickering memory, I caught the motion of her putting her hair in her mouth, turning her head slightly and playfully. But I don’t know why I loved her or how I know so much about her. Everything felt foggy and unfocused when it came to her. I knew she was here and that it was her beat up car leaking in the driveway. My instincts told me I should just let her go, push her away and move on. I just wanted to forget and forget and forget.

  Suddenly, my stomach erupted with a growling hunger. I couldn’t tell if I was shivering from the cold or shaking from hunger. Walking further into the dark sunroom, barely any light was coming in from the patio. My wet boots squeaked on the polished concrete floor and my hand searched the walls blindly for a light switch, easily finding one. For once I struck gold with luck and found myself in the houses other kitchen. Unlike the trashed kitchen I found earlier, this one was immaculate. The countertops were of black marble and they glinted softly from the low wattage bulbs.

  Led by my rumbling stomach I glided to the stainless-steel fridge, running my hands across the smooth, cherry wood cabinets. The fluorescent light brightened my face as I swiftly pulled the door open. I could have died right then and there. The fridge was fully stocked. Piggishly I began gnawing anything I could get my hands on, which was mostly junk. Choking on a half chewed bite of an apple, I grabbed a beer and quickly imbibed half of it to force it all down. Greedily I snatched a few more beers, another apple, some cheese and sliced turkey meat normally just used for sandwiches. Sitting on the cold counter top, I chugged the rest of my beer. I figured I could cut out the bread for my sandwich and just replace it with a nice crisp beer. “Beer is pretty much bread, right?” I said to myself, popping open another beer and shoving more food into my mouth. Usually I hated beer, I preferred a cider or just straight up liquor. But this beer, right now and in this specific moment, was the best part of it all. I enjoyed it even though I was soaked from head to toe and shivering from the icy rain. Finishing my second beer and opening a third, I sat hunched on the counter with my eyes closed just listening to the rain.

  Thunder was booming every few minutes and the rain was pouring relentlessly. I absolutely loved the rain, it was the most relaxing thing I could think of.. This was the best moment I’ve had since waking up here. I took solace in the dimly lit kitchen and the mess I had made of it. The counters were covered in wrappers, empty beer bottles and crumbs from my make-shift feast. I knew this tiny, pathetic moment wouldn’t last long and so did my stomach.

  My intestines cramped and twisted in my gut with such violence that I doubled over. I jumped off the counter and ran for the bathroom that was tucked away in a back corridor of the kitchen, slipping as I reached for the door. I didn’t even bother shutting the door before relieving myself. I sat on the toilet, shaking with my head in-between my knees cursing every beer and piece of junk I shoved into my mouth. I had foolishly tried to eat like a ravenous teenager but with the drawback of having a stomach of a thirty year old. I finished my business, cleaned up and looked up to see that the mirror above the tiny sink was shattered.

  Tiny of fractal versions of myself were looking back at me. I was as pale as Molly and almost as pale as the man in my dreams. Standing there for a moment, I waited for my stomach to calm, not wanting to move too far from the bathroom. I traced my fingers on the broken cracks in the mirror, hypnotized by all of the fragmented dimensions it withheld. “Mirror, mirror on this wall. Who is this man that wants me to fall?” I said as my whispering voice echoed in the tiny bathroom. Tracing my fingers across the glass one more time just in case it wanted to answer me, I soon decided to move on.

  Journal Entry Twelve

  It was near impossible to stop thinking about Molly and I wasn’t ready to tread through the rain. I slowly and pointlessly cleaned the kitchen, wishing for another change of clothes. They hung awkward and heavy around my body, too wet for them to dry quickly. I thought about putting them in the oven but chickened out at the last minute. I’d rather walk around wet and cold than naked, wet and cold. Soon, I ran out of chores and just leaned against the
counter, staring at the irritated, scabbing cuts on my forearms. I couldn’t help but feel anxious over the damaged cars. Because of the note, I knew one of them belonged to Molly, but I had no idea who’s SUV that was or who shattered its' window. All I knew was someone wasn’t going to be happy with me. Then again I could always blame it on the storm. I could only hope the rain had washed away the crimson evidence.

  Everything that happened last night was still a fuzzy blur. The only thing I could recall was Molly, and barely. I knew she was here because of her car and I could remember what she looked like. Although, strangely, I felt like I was head over heels for her. Every time her name leaked into my mind it gave me a warm feeling. I knew we had a long history but I kept shutting my mind to her out of some strange fear.

  I rested my arms on the cool, black marble counter and tried to force myself to remember her. Closing my eyes I repeated her name over and over again. Every time I whispered the name flashes of her face thundered underneath my eyelids. My head began to throb with pain and my ears started to ache with a high pitched noise. I slid down on to the floor, my back to the cabinets and kept repeating the name. After every compulsive utterance the throbbing pain and high pitched noise only worsened. I persevered with fists clenched while fragments of her face flashed and flickered in my mind. The pain kept getting worse and worse. I gasped for air in a panic trying to catch my breath. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see and the humming ring was getting unbearable.

  Then in an instant it was all gone, disappearing with a loud popping noise. It was if I had broken through this invisible barrier and from the cracks leaked the memories that I’ve spent years trying to push back. I rested my head on the counter behind me and I slipped into a foggy dream-like state. It was just like before, I was watching my memories as if they were being projected all around me.

  I was sitting in a class, I was eighteen and she was twenty. We were sitting together but only because our stuffy, controlling professor assigned our seats. It was our Early European History class and she was copying answers from my paper for our assignment. It was, of course, due today although it was assigned a week ago but that was Molly for you. Then the memory and my surroundings vanished as fast as they came.

  I could still feel myself sitting on the ground and the cabinet pressing into my head but there was nothing but an empty void around me. The memory was gone and I wanted more. If I have known her for that long, why do I keep trying to push her existence out of my mind? Why is my subconscious working against me?

  Focusing harder, I pushed further past that now weakened barrier. I started to repeat her name again until fragmented memories flashed and projected all around the void. They were mostly random conversations but nothing else. All of this chaos was leaving me frustrated and queasy. I just needed to make sense of all of this randomness.

  I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my head on them. Slowly, I was loosing sense of up and down in this black void. It was difficult even to tell if this was all real or in my twisted head. I wanted to cry but not because I was sad. It was like I was regressing in age, like I was this sensitive newborn trying to understand the world. “Get a grip of yourself and focus on Molly,” I said to myself weakly, running my hands through my wet hair. I still felt cold and wet but I pushed those thoughts away as if I could tangibly swat at them.

  “Molly, Molly, Molly!” I started to repeat again until I felt this strange warm tingling through my body. It started at my core and slowly spread to my fingers and toes. I started to feel myself sinking downwards. All these different colors and voices began to blur past me, softly slipping into something very soft, and warm. I smelled the scent of cheap cigarettes, and heard the awful 90’s music and could over hear at least a dozen out-of-synch conversations. Finally, when I opened my eyes I was sitting next to her and she was smiling that beautiful smile.

  It was so strange, all of my other memories leading up to this had been in almost a third person view. Yet this was as if I was reliving this sliver of my past through my own eyes, my own body, sensations and all. We were a few years older, out of college and at a party. We both sat on a dog-legged couch, surrounded by other party goers. She rested drunk and comfortable on the couch tediously complaining about her relationship problems. I had my legs propped up on a glass coffee table, peeling the label off of my hard cider, a drink that I loved to death in my twenties and on into my thirties.

  “Trey was so pissed off when Jenny asked if they could be in an open relationship. After she told him he basically stomped away. He we was acting like she just broke up with him,” She slurred, very intoxicated. I looked over at her and smiled. For the first time realized that I was as drunk off my ass as Molly had been.

  “I could NEVER be in an open relationship, I’d get so jealous. I don’t care how liberating and empowering Jenny says it would be!” She said only stopping to sip on her disgusting light beer. Molly always gossiped when she was drunk. It was a little unbecoming now that I’m seeing this all over again.

  I listened to her talk about her friends, problems and family. The background murmured with music and bubbles of personal conversations between tired inebriated people. After a few more drinks my world was starting to spin. I was a little more drunk than I wanted to be. Molly reached over and squeezed my leg gently, “Thanks for coming to this lame party with me.” She fixed a loose strand of her hair and continued. “You’re my best friend, always there for me, always listening to me. I really wish more guys were like you. I need to find someone like you out there.”

  I turned and looked at her, my heart beating in my throat. Her hair was disheveled and there was a pink blush spreading across her face. Molly was smiling and biting her lip. I was swaying from my warm drunkenness and stared at her inhuman, gorgeous, green eyes. “Mo-Molly, you’re the best.” She looked at me, squeezed my leg again and giggled. I touched her hair slowly, fighting the urge to kiss her.

  The party faded to a blur, my heart was beating faster and my stomach was fluttering around in my abdomen. The music faded and all I could hear was my heart beating. I touched her face and made one of the biggest mistakes of my life. Drunk, all I wanted to be was selfish. So I kissed her. I kissed her passionately and for a moment I thought she was going to return my love.

  At first she seemed to kiss me back but I felt her hand gently press against my chest. When I pulled away from her lips and saw the look on her face I instantly knew I betrayed our friendship. It was so hard loving her, knowing she only considered me a friend or worse, a brother. She lightly pushed me away, staring at me with a comforting gaze. I knew she only saw me as a platonic presence and she probably knew deep down that I loved her.

  The cacophony of the room crashed back into ears. Once again it was was filled with those obnoxious party goers. I saw her wince but before she could say anything, I put a space in between us and drunkenly said,” I’m s-sorry Molly. I am way too drunk! Probably more than I have ever been and that’s saying something!” She looked at me lovingly for a moment and started giving me the speech. It was that speech everyone has heard or said at least once in their lives.

  “You know, I think you’re amazing.” I looked at my feet, feeling sick as she said those words. I was terrified of ruining our precious friendship. I couldn’t live without her in my life. I needed her in ways she could never fathom. “You’re like a little brother to me Zac,” She continued, using one of the many nicknames she had always called me by.

  The room was spinning and I was only catching bits and pieces of Mollys' speech. The party was dying down, only a few drunkards sloppily conversated around the house. I looked at Mollys' furrowed brow and my head erupted with pain. I saw the cellar door from the basement of my family’s vacation home. It sat in its old decorative wooden frame, still and cold. I shook it away and tried to focus on Molly, “I know it’s really hard for girls and guys to be frien–“

  I saw another glimpse of the door but it was much closer this time. For some reason
it felt like it was looking at me, leering down at me from its sturdy frame. It began to vibrate softly, the knob jiggling back and forth. I closed my eyes rubbing at them violently and Molly looked at me in concern. “Isaac, it’s okay I get it,” She said with such an endearing tone.

  “No, Molly. It’s not like that. I cherish our friendship way too mu-” The door flashed in front of me so close that I could touch it. I felt myself crying out in terror but the only thing I could hear was her soft, comforting voice trying to give the 'you’re like a brother to me' speech. I stood up from the couch and the room dissipated like a fine mist. My surroundings were replaced by the stairs in the basement leading to the cellar door. The door stood firm, right in front of me and seemingly bigger than before. Its' vibrating turned into a soft hum and the doorknob jiggled loudly.

  I turned around and tried to run up the old, wooden stairs and away from the door. The second I ran however I was struck by a granite wall. I foolishly pressed and pushed against the cold granite. I slammed my fists into the unmoving mass, pain shooting up my arms, yet t it was far away. I didn’t want to look back. I closed my eyes, trying to listen for Molly but the only thing I heard was the vibrating hum of the door. It was even louder now.

  It felt like the door was getting closer and closer to me. Creaking and moaning, it hummed horrendously at my back. Giving in, I turned around slowly and tried to close my eyes. It didn’t matter though if they were squeezed shut or wide open, I could clearly see through them either way. There was no escape. The old door gave off a rumbling shake and an audible clicking noise. It was the lock giving way. My heart was racing and my back was pressed to the impossible granite wall. The brass door knob twisted and the door popped open but only enough to reveal a sliver of the empty void behind it.

  An unnatural oddity, it was a crack in time and space. A ringing sounded off in my ears. I just stood there with my fists clenched staring at the door through my closed eyes. The door didn’t respond, it just sat in its frame quietly. I was frozen in place, sweat pouring down my terrified body. The ringing gradually rose to a higher, piercing frequency. I knew what would happen next. I knew because I know myself and my curiosity is impossible to hold back. With a mind of its own, my hand began reaching for the door.