Paranoiac (8 page)

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.

As soon as my
fingers touched the cool, wooden surface, electricity shot through
my body. I took a few steps forward and abruptly heard rustling on
the other side of this portal to nothingness. My eyes widened with
fearful excitement and I started to quiver. Adrenaline was surging
uncontrollably throughout my body and my hand was fused to the
door. The movement behind the door transitioned into a quiet
laughter. My eyes twitched, my body shook harder and from the core.
It was the velvet laughter from my dream.

It was my
pallid twins' insidious, wide-smiled laughter. And it forced me to
press on the door. A crack of white light spread into the stairway
as it opened. My shadow climbed up the granite wall behind me as if
it were desperately trying to run away. I pushed gently on the door
and inch by inch it began to open. As more light poured in, the
louder his laughter got. It was unviable to turn back now. I gave
the door one final shove. The door swung open and nothing but white
light gushed into the little room. I shielded my eyes until they
adjusted. The man of my nightmares was laughing insanely. The light
dimmed and I saw a figure standing in the doorway. It was him, the
bastard that has haunted me for as long as I dare to remember. His
laughter quieted and he just stood there smiling.

It was like
looking into a mirror. I slowly raised my hand to see if my
doppleganger would do the same. The pale double mimicked my
movements but it was greatly delayed. He grinned even wider and
chuckled as he raised the same hand as me. I took a closer look at
his hand. It was clenched into a fist, covered in blood. And
hanging from his hand was a large clump of black hair. There even
were chunks of scalp hanging from the locks. For a second, I just
watched blood drip onto the floor. Suddenly he began to chuckle
with his velvet insanity. I looked at him with shocked, bulging
eyes. The laughter grew louder and louder and louder and
louder!

Journal Entry Thirteen

My eyes opened
and I lost balance in the sunroom’s kitchen. In shock I stumbled
backward and my back hit the cold, metal fridge. I could have sworn
I was sitting on the tiled floor, leaning on the cabinets before I
had plunged into my memories. All I wanted to do was figure out who
Molly was and what she meant to me. Too bad all I got was a junk
food, booze induced dream. The problem was it really didn’t feel
like a dream, parts of it anyway. I know for a fact that some of
those memories of Molly were true. No one forgets something that
tragically embarrassing. I just can’t stop thinking about the
cellar door however and that awful pale double of mine. I
absolutely hated his vile laughter. It sinks into my bones like a
beast gnawing its’ gnashing teeth into its’ pathetic
prey.

My head was
still fuzzy from my nightmarish nap so the world was dizzy and
tumultuous. My clothes were still damp too and were twirled around
my body. I thought of that hellish monsters' tired, sunken in eyes
and the clump of black hair in his hand, dripping with blood.
Usually my dreams of him are always the same. He would sneak into
my bedroom under the guise of a full moon, emerging from some dark
shadow that horrifies me. Then the demon would threaten me, calling
me the monster although he’s the pale devil who lives in the
shadows. The way he appeared this time was so different. He
actually came in through the light. And this time he said nothing.
He just stared and laughed with a fist full of someone’s hair.
“God! I hope it isn’t Molly’s hair,” I half sobbed out. I wanted to
eviscerate this imp of the shadows for giving me that thought. I
walked around the kitchens' bar and stared into the garden. I
didn’t want to think about Molly or the pale tormentor anymore. I
pushed away their likenesses and focused on the muggy dew covered
garden.

For the first
time since I woke up I realized it was morning. The rain was gone
and it was foggy beyond belief. Hours had passed. I couldn’t
believe it. These gaps in time and these dreams are starting to
freak me out. How can I even trust my own perception? Am I this
tired and strung out? Or did I party so hard the night before that
I’m still recovering? I really needed to stay away from the booze.
Every time I drink something awful happens or my overactive
imagination starts running wild. I have to keep myself away from
alcohol.

To make my
point, I briskly walked over to the fridge and drank an entire
bottle of cool, crisp water. And then I grabbed another bottle of
water, some cheese too, and slammed fridges door. I couldn’t help
but stare out at the foggy garden. Drops of water fell from the
flora thanks to that heavy storm. I was almost finished with my
pointless search around this awful house. What if I don’t find
anything? What if I can’t find anyone? I should just leave. Maybe I
could check my phone for messages? That is if that bastard hadn’t
stole my bag.

“
Of course!” I yelled out feeling like an imbecile. I’ve been
here for days and yet I never once thought of checking my phone,
that rectangle hunk of glass, plastic and precious metals. I
probably had voicemails or text messages pouring out of my inbox
from the people who are staying here, possibly even Molly. “That’s
why that asshole took my stuff,” I said out-loud, feeling a weight
being lifted from my shoulders. I know where the answers are! Now I
just need to find this phantom fool and get my phone. I knew the
solution was much simpler than I was making it out to
be.

My years of
alcohol and distrust have left me twisted and paranoid. Now I would
have to live with the embarrassment of my behavior. Luckily only
the prankster and I know the bounds of my stupidity. Not to mention
once I find this prowler I’ll wring his neck and bury him in the
back yard with my mothers' statues. Who would honestly mess with me
like this? I don’t have many friends and acquaintances but I don’t
think any of them would jerk me around like this. If I catch this
traitor I will definitely tear him apart with my bare
teeth!

Too many
repressed memories have surfaced from this moronic ordeal. Although
I have to confess that I dwell way too much on the past. “What kind
of writer would I be if I wasn’t a self-loathing misanthrope?” I
said aloud, staring at the pool and its stone waterfall. I sipped
at my water pondering my time here. My mind traced its way around
the property, checking to see if I missed any rooms.

Swiftly I
turned around, my mind set on searching the various broom closets.
I would strip every nook and cranny of this house down to its
wooden frames. Folding and tucking this stupid journal into my back
pocket, I made my way back to the back patio door. The instant I
opened the door a small pebble sliced across the bridge of my
nose.

I stumbled
back quickly as another dozen little stones were pelted at me. Most
of them missed and bombarded the screen doors and the metal siding.
I jumped back into the sunroom and slammed the door. More and more
rocks smacked into the door and sunroom. It sounded like hail
raining sideways. “You mother fucker!” I yelled over the falling
stones at who I presumed was the stranger. The moment I yelled out
the stone-storm ceased. Unfortunately it was replaced by the laugh
of my nightmares.

I slumped to
the ground with my back to the door. His laughter continued, barely
stopping to take a breath in-between his cacophony of cackling. I
pulled my knees to my chest, my eyes wide open with fear and my
journal digging into my hip. The laughter went on and on and on.
Another storm of pebbles started bouncing and smashing into the
sunroom. I covered my ears and shut my eyes. All I could see in my
mind’s eye was that gaunt, pale twin of mine laughing with a
devilish, riant grin.

“
Isaac!” He began to yell, replacing his hellish laughter with
that awful, awful voice. “What’s the matter Zac? I thought you were
you were going to tear me apart with your teeth and bury me under
one of your mommies dear old statues?” My eyes popped open with
shock. How did he know that? I don’t even think I said that
out-loud. None of this makes sense. “Isaac! Isaac! Isaac!” He
yelled out over and over again, interrupting any thoughts I was
trying to form.