#madness

I’m always playing the part. Ever since this stupid movie started, the part never really left me. You’re probably confused. Should I bother explaining? Honestly, all you’ll do is ridicule me. Oh well. All the people I would confide in aren’t exactly… around. If you have a few minutes, I can tell you a story that will drive you crazy. Trust me, I mean that.

Let me guess, you're on here trying to freak yourself out or find a pasta worth sharing, right? Me too, but nothing seems to spike your interest or really sends a chill down your spine. Take a look at the videos too, yet still - there's nothing. You really are getting bored now, aren't you? To me, this ritual seems to happen quite a lot, what about you? An idea has probably just popped into your head - "why am I reading this?"

A few weeks, my wife and I took a vacation to Florida. We decided to drive, due to the price of airplane tickets around holiday season. On our way south, we passed through Tennessee as well as a large portion of Georgia. Unfortunately, there was a large accident that occurred on the turnpike, so we decided to take a short detour and then get back onto the turnpike after we passed all the traffic.

“Whom the Gods would destroy, they first make mad” Prometheus, The Masque of Pandora

It had been a long, tiring day at work. It was quiet as I waited alone for the train. It was a bit after midnight, and so dark that I could only see the square foot around me that the small light illuminated. Fortunately, I wasn’t stuck waiting long for the train. Eagerly, I ran in the second the doors opened.

It was a nice summer day, my 5-year-old son James was playing outside in the backyard of our suburban home. James has always been a quiet boy, he plays by himself mostly, he never had many friends, but he has always had a wild imagination. I was in the kitchen feeding our dog Fido, when I heard what sounded like James talking to someone in the backyard. I’m not sure who it was he could be talking to, could he have finally made a friend? Being a single mom it’s hard for me to always keep an eye…

It was a cold, rainy day in December. There was less than a week until we got out of school for winter break. Usually my teachers don't give us work before a break, but my bastard of a History teacher decided he'd assign us a 2000-word report due the day before we got out. I knew I wasn't going to be there then; I was going up to the mountains in North Carolina to spend Christmas and New Years' in Lenoir with some old friends I hadn't seen since I moved.

This is a prequel to Abandoned by Disney — Suggestion: We could use another person at check-in during peak hours. Suggestion: Please move the hot dog cart away from the main water slide. Also please have water slide staff keep an eye out for children who just ate. When anyone gets sick in there, three or four people have to go through it before we know about it.

I was walking down an abandoned, dirt road in the middle of a small town that I did not recognise. I was alone; literally, there was no one in sight. I looked at the house I was walking by, the only house on the street. It was old and the dark grey paint was faded into more of an off white colour. The windows were covered in dust and chipped at the edges, behind them were some ripped, faded yellow curtains hanging. Only one of the windows was missing a curtain, the top left window to be exact.…

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The Journal of Harry Rellic The following; a series of the most recent excerpts from a private journal of ‘Harry Rellic’, a 22 year old found dead in his apartment this evening. Apparent death by overdose on cyanide. … I wake up at ten in the morning to my phone ringing. I pick up, expecting Hannah to be on the other end, but instead I hear her sister, Mary. She is in hysterics. I ask her what the problem is, trying to calm her down; she tells me Hannah is dead.

I've decided to kill myself.

Read Part 1 Here This is what happened next. I’ve been up for three nights. Energy shots and cold showers help. I don’t want to sleep. It’s been much worse lately—the dreams, and the voices. I won’t smoke anymore of these things, I’ve decided. I need answers first. And I need these maddening voices and whispers to stop barraging my nights. I have to listen to music, TV, something, at all times. Or I start to hear them. So far, I’ve only told Mike about what happened.

“Strange how paranoia can link up with reality now and then.” ― Philip K. Dick, A Scanner Darkly My name is Connor. Up until today, my life was completely normal... well, as normal as you can get. I’m your average 25 year old male who graduated from the University of Washington a little over 2 years ago. I was born January 23, 1989 in a small town in Maine called Belmont. Fewer than 1000 residents, but I loved the place.

I remember it all as if it were a dreamlike daze. It was a bright and sunny that first day, yet it was quiet. Abnormally quiet, even for the densely forested area that I lived in. Nothing could be heard for miles around. Our neighbors, that lived about a quarter of a mile away and fought often, were out of town. And, my own parents were rarely home because of their jobs. But, they fought too. Which, left me alone. Alone. Day after day with no one around. No one, but the wind that would dance…

I laughed as I embraced my younger cousin, I hadn’t seen her in a month. She smiled at me and we went upstairs to her room to talk about how her first week of school was, it got dark quickly. See, my cousin, Mackenzie, was in seventh grade, the grade I had been brutally bullied in two years before- unfortunately Mackenzie faced the same fate. She started crying and I held her close to me, I hated to see my best friend like this. She looked up at me with her hazel eyes, I brushed the caramel…

It is said that in the times of the Romans, there was a mighty general who was abandoned by his cowardly men in the midst of a great battle. In death, the general swore vengeance on those who had abandoned him. He was granted this when a dark goddess allowed him to return to the land of the living as a vengeful spirit. His sole purpose was to get revenge on those who had wronged him.

Lilleth stared up at the ceiling while bundled in her covers. Dimly lit with various band posters taped to the wall, it’s the room of a typical punk girl. She nodded her head to the beat, and softly sang along to the heavy metal playing on her speakers. She heard her mom calling over the music.“What!” Lilleth snapped, annoyed because she knew she would have to get up.

I don’t know why so many of these things have roots in childhood. It seems like a bad cliché at this point. “When I was a kid”, there was this strange event… that odd creature… or the other thing that made me do something-or-other. Yeah. I don’t know WHY so many start like that. For me, I can’t explain this any other way than starting when I was little. It’s the crux of the entire thing, and I apologize in advance if it seems like I’m just following in the footsteps of others.

I've lost control in every sense of the word. The steering wheel is slipping loosely through my crimson splattered hands and the cry of a father’s daughter screaming in agony echoes in my conscious. The knife on the passenger seat is sliding back and forth across the leather like a euphoric heretic mid ritual as the grim world outside is reflecting onto its scarlet tainted surface. The rain is growing greater and greater and my car’s wheels barely maintain their connection onto the road as I…