Psychosis by Sandi Knezevic (superbooks4u TXT) š
- Author: Sandi Knezevic
Book online Ā«Psychosis by Sandi Knezevic (superbooks4u TXT) šĀ». Author Sandi Knezevic
Excited to look out into the rain and possibly see another human being, I quickly walked over to the alcove, finding the large thin glass window. Rain washed down it, as with the front doorās window, but I could open this one. I reached a hand out to slide it open, but hesitated. I had the strangest feeling that if I opened that window, I would see something absolutely horrifying on the other side. Everythingās been so odd latelyā¦ so I came up with a plan, and I came back here to get what I needed. I donāt seriously think anything will come of it, but Iām bored, itās raining, and Iām going stir crazy. I came back to get my webcam. The cord isnāt long enough to reach the third floor by any means, so instead Iām going to hide it between the two soda machines in the dark end of my basement hallway, run the wire along the wall and under my door, and put black duct tape over the wire to blend it in with the black plastic strip that runs along the base of the hallwayās walls. I know this is silly, but I donāt have anything better to doā¦
Well, nothing happened. I propped open the hallway-to-stairwell door, steeled myself, then flung the heavy front door wide open and ran like hell down the stairs to my room and slammed the door. I watched the webcam on my computer intently, seeing the hallway outside my door and most of the stairwell. Iām watching it right now, and I donāt see anything interesting. I just wish the cameraās position was different, so that I could see out the front door. Hey! Somebodyās online!
ā
I got out an older, less functional webcam that I had in my closet to video chat with my friend online. I couldnāt really explain to him why I wanted to video chat, but it felt good to see another personās face. He couldnāt talk very long, and we didnāt talk about anything meaningful, but I feel much better. My strange fear has almost passed. I would feel completely better, but there was somethingā¦ oddā¦ about our conversation. I know that Iāve said that everything has seemed odd, butā¦ still, he was very vague in his responses. I canāt recall one specific thing that he saidā¦ no particular name, or place, or eventā¦ but he did ask for my email address to keep in touch. Wait, I just got an email.
Iām about to go out. I just got an email from Amy that asked me to meet her for dinner at āthe place we usually go to.ā I do love pizza, and Iāve just been eating random food from my poorly stocked fridge for days, so I canāt wait. Again, I feel ridiculous about the odd couple of days Iāve been having. I should destroy this journal when I get back. Oh, another email.
ā
Oh my god. I almost left the email and opened the door. I almost opened the door. I almost opened the door, but I read the email first! It was from a friend I hadnāt heard from in a long time, and it was sent to a huge number of emails that must have been every person he had saved in his address list. It had no subject, and it said, simply:
seen with your own eyes donāt trust them they
What the hell is that supposed to mean? The words shock me, and I keep going over and over them. Is it a desperate email sent just asā¦ something happened? The words are obviously cut off without finishing! On any other day I would have dismissed this as spam from a computer virus or something, but the wordsā¦ seen with your own eyes! I canāt help but read over this journal and think back on the last few days and realize that I have not seen another person with my own eyes or talked to another person face to face. The webcam conversation with my friend was so strange, so vague, soā¦ eerie, now that I think about it. Was it eerie? Or is the fear clouding my memory? My mind toys with the progression of events Iāve written here, pointing out that I have not been presented with one single fact that I did not specifically give out unsuspectingly. The random āwrong numberā that got my name and the subsequent strange return call from Amy, the friend that asked for my email addressā¦ I messaged him first when I saw him online! And then I got my first email a few minutes after that conversation! Oh my god! That phone call with Amy! I said over the phone ā I said that I was within half an hourās walk of Seventh Street! They know Iām near there! What if theyāre trying to find me?! Where is everyone else? Why havenāt I seen or heard anyone else in days?
No, no, this is crazy. This is absolutely crazy. I need to calm down. This madness needs to end.
ā
I donāt know what to think. I ran about my apartment furiously, holding my cell phone up to every corner to see if it got a signal through the heavy walls. Finally, in the tiny bathroom, near one ceiling corner, I got a single bar. Holding my phone there, I sent a text message to every number in my list. Not wanting to betray anything about my unfounded fears, I simply sent:
You seen anyone face to face lately?
At that point, I just wanted any reply back. I didnāt care what the reply was, or if I embarrassed myself. I tried to call someone a few times, but I couldnāt get my head up high enough, and if I brought my cell phone down even an inch, it lost signal. Then I remembered the computer, and rushed over to it, instant messaging everyone online. Most were idle or away from their computer. Nobody responded. My messages grew more frantic, and I started telling people where I was and to stop by in person for a host of barely passable reasons. I didnāt care about anything by that point. I just needed to see another person!
I also tore apart my apartment looking for something that I might have missed; some way to contact another human being without opening the door. I know itās crazy, I know itās unfounded, but what if? WHAT IF? I just need to be sure! I taped the phone to the ceiling in case
Tuesday
Tuesday
THE PHONE RANG! Exhausted from last nightās rampage, I must have fallen asleep. I woke up to the phone ringing, and ran into the bathroom, stood on the toilet, and flipped open the phone taped to the ceiling. It was Amy, and I feel so much better. She was really worried about me, and apparently had been trying to contact me since the last time I talked to her. Sheās coming over now, and, yes, she knows where I am without me telling her. I feel so embarrassed. I am definitely throwing this journal away before anyone sees it. I donāt even know why Iām writing in it now. Maybe itās just because itās the only communication Iāve had at all sinceā¦ god knows when. I look like hell, too. I looked in the mirror before I came back in here. My eyes are sunken, my stubble is thicker, and I just look generally unhealthy.
My apartment is trashed, but Iām not going to clean it up. I think I need someone else to see what Iāve been through. These past few days have NOT been normal. I am not one to imagine things. I know I have been the victim of extreme probability. I probably missed seeing another person a dozen times. I just happened to go out when it was late at night, or the middle of the day when everyone was gone. Everythingās perfectly fine, I know this now. Plus, I found something in the closet last night that has helped me tremendously: a television! I set it up just before I wrote this, and itās on in the background. Television has always been an escape for me, and it reminds me that thereās a world beyond these dingy brick walls.
Iām glad Amyās the only one that responded to me after last nightās frantic pestering of everyone I could contact. Sheās been my best friend for years. She doesnāt know it, but I count the day that I met her among one of the few moments of true happiness in my life. I remember that warm summer day fondly. It seems a different reality from this dark, rainy, lonely place. I feel like I spent days sitting in that playground, much too old to play, just talking with her and hanging around doing nothing at all. I still feel like I can go back to that moment sometimes, and it reminds me that this damn place is not all that there isā¦ finally, a knock on the door!
ā
I thought it was odd that I couldnāt see her through the camera I hid between the two soda machines. I figured that it was bad positioning, like when I couldnāt see out the front door. I should have known. I should have known! After the knock, I yelled through the door jokingly that I had a camera between the soda machines, because I was embarrassed myself that I had taken this paranoia so far. After I did that, I saw her image walk over to the camera and look down at it. She smiled and waved.
āHey!ā she said to the camera brightly, giving it a wry look.
āItās weird, I know,ā I said into the mic attached to my computer. āIāve had a weird few days.ā
āMust have,ā she replied. āOpen the door, John.ā
I hesitated. How could I be sure?
āHey, humor me a second here,ā I told her through the mic. āTell me one thing about us. Just prove to me youāre you.ā
She gave the camera a weird look.
āUm, alright,ā she said slowly, thinking. āWe met randomly at a playground when we were both way too old to be there?ā
I sighed deeply as reality returned and fear faded. God, Iād been so ridiculous. Of course it was Amy! That day wasnāt anywhere in the world except in my memory. Iād never even mentioned it to anyone, not out of embarrassment, but out of a strange secret nostalgia and a longing for those days to return. If there was some unknown force at work trying to trick me, as I feared, there was no way they could know about that day.
āHaha, alright, Iāll explain everything,ā
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