#paranoia

You know those sounds you hear when no one is home? Those sounds only you hear. When you’re alone. I do. I hear them everyday. The creaking. The noises. The paranoia of my mind playing tricks on me, but is it really?

Day 1: I’ve called myself paranoid for quite some time because of the little things that put me on edge. I can’t stay in the dark. Even when my eyes focus I can feel the gaze of some night dweller following me as I tiptoe to stay unheard and scan with my pathetic, nearsighted eyes. I can feel something, something hidden in the dark that must be there since I can’t see it. I can’t stand the silence either. You’d think the opposite would be true, since at least the silence I can hear if something…

I can hear them when it's quiet. They hide in the vents. They laugh at me. I don't know why. Maybe it's because they know they've got me. I can't do anything to stop them. There's no one I can tell, everyone would think I'm insane. Now I just have to wait. They'll come to collect me when they're ready. Not on my time, god no. They won't come for me until long after my mind has completely unhinged.

I'm a scaredy-cat. There's nothing that I hate more than being left alone at night in a dark, rambling house. In truth I usually do okay. Stay in my chair, on my computer... watch horror movies and shows. I'm a scaredy-cat, but I kind of like being scared.

I knew Susie since she was about three years old.

My Summer break had finally arrived, and was filled with many joys. One of the great thrills it held was a very energetic and lovable kitten, who I enjoyed playing with immensely. Unfortunately, the kitten wasn't mine, and instead he belonged to my roommate, or ex-roommate I should say. He was the one who had offered me a place to stay after the College dorms had kicked all the students out at Spring Semester's end. His name was Hobbes and he was 9 months old, although I wouldn't have known…

The following is an account of events that took place in the late summer of 2001. I can neither confirm nor deny its validity. It was recounted to me by my Brother-in-law, who disappeared in the summer of 2008.

I know you're not going to believe me, but I've decided that I don't care at this point. I need to get this out. Whether you believe me or not, this has to get out.

Her pale, soft hand gently brushed past my cracked lips as it slightly eased the dry flesh with a streak of warm blood. The sensation of the brief encounter lingered with my longing for it. – Ah, blood. Yes, blood still freshly stains her hand. Yet, her face refuses to show any emotion as I look at it. My eyes are even hopelessly begging. Didn’t she feel even a bit pained when she- haaah, useless thoughts. I only have a little time left. But, haha, I could’ve avoided this. I’ve known. I was not…

In a small town like Woodsburrow, a mall opening up is a big thing. The whole town generally gets in on the whole ordeal and rumors of all kinds begin to spread about the building both good and bad and the new owner is usually the main target of these rumors more often than none. This time was no exception especially when the owner was a tall crooked kind of man with greying skin that hung loosely from a boney frame. The most striking feature however, were the man’s yellow eyes that seemed to…

It was a late night, and I could not remember where it was that I had been prior, but I remember that I had escaped from extreme violence- (perhaps the reason I couldn't remember?) In retrospect, I do, honestly, remember what happened prior, but at the time I didn't, so for the sake of letting you experience the narrative through MY shoes, I did not, in fact, remember.

Death comes for us all. The intricate design of Death's web spares no one. It is the inevitable reality we all face someday, some sooner than others. But not all of us are unwary of our demise. Not all of us are fortunate enough to live in blissful ignorance, unaware of our own mortality. But once you are caught in the web, like a hapless fly watching as a spider descends upon it, you will see how finite life is. For as easy as life is granted, it can just as easily be taken away.

Hope. It really is the most powerful yet dangerous and cruel of human traits. It forces us to defy logic, sometimes at great cost. Other times it guides us through treacherous waters and back into the arms of our loved ones. We cannot live without being in its presence yet we can die tragically while being draped in it. It is truly a paradox.

[Author's note: The historical context of the time period has been altered than what actually happened in history due to the nature of the story being derived from another one of my projects.] August 19th, 1915 Corp. D.H. Griffin, 3rd Infantry Battalion, US Army

Moving to a new place was a big thing for me. 3 hours away from home, 3 hours away from the town I loved, the house I grew up in and the ex boyfriend who had been the thing to drive me away. In a way I was looking to escape. New start, new life, new me, that was what I decided when I moved away.

Everyone has the same fear at some point in their life. They think its waiting for them. Some people think it’s stupid and not real. But some people aren’t unfortunate enough to be a victim to its lingering attack.

Ever seen dead bugs on a windowsill? Of course you have, it’s quite common, especially in the countryside. A still ladybug, a pile of flies, or maybe a spider curled up in a ball, it doesn’t matter. You can see them anywhere. You knew that. But here’s something you didn’t know: whenever you see dead insects or arachnids of any kind on the window sill, it’s a sign. It means you will have many restless nights, full of nightmares. It may not happen immediately, it may even takes months or years…

4:38:03 PM He placed the cold steel barrel to his temple, feeling it press against bone. The scarred right wrist was steady, the shoulder relaxed, as he’d been trained. Standing in front of the mirror, his dry brown eyes burned with concentration. The muscles of his right hand contracted. The trigger began to move. His cracked lips curled to one side. The same sly, crooked half smile so many girls and women found appealing.

I owed it to him, I suppose. He was my best friend, after all, and he had always been there for me when I was in trouble. Six months ago, Mike's uncle had died after a year or so of illness. Mike took the news hard; the man had been like a father to him. It had taken him those six months to build up the courage to head round to his uncles old place in the country, and get his affairs sorted out.

It would seem that all cities, even small towns, have their own ghost stories and urban legends. Living in Devine, Texas for 5 years, I always heard about the Salt and Pepper lady of the Devine Projects. Friends would speak of their experiences with this very strange and disturbing specter. If you grew up in the Devine Projects, your parents wouldn't allow you to be outside whatsoever after dark, which was less due to the gangs and drug problem and more out of fear of the Salt and Pepper lady.