I don't feel safe anymore. At all. I'm writing this from my basement. I've boarded up the window and barricaded the outside door, I'm below the ground, and I still don't feel safe.
I started seeing it a couple days ago from my bedroom window. At least, I think I did, and that's the important part, isn't it? Reality exists only in the mind, and for that part, I suppose, it's real, and the fact that I saw it is real. It thinks I can't see it, standing there in the woods, but I see it. I see it all now. I can't hide from it, but it can't hide from me. Hide and seek!
Hide and seek isn't fun.
I also don't know who to trust anymore. For a fine example, take the shining bastions of hope and comfort that are my parents (rather, that parents are supposed to be). "Jon," they started on my when I got home from school, "We've set you up with an appointment for a doctor. We're worried about your health." Well, they didn't say it that way, my mom did. My dad just sort of nodded along.
Thankfully they haven't bothered me since I came down to the basement, because I feel like if they were to come down and try talking to me, something very bad would happen. They went behind my back, they're trying to take me outside the house when it isn't safe and when there's no reason for me to be outside, they think something's wrong but they don't know the fucking half of it anymore, they think they can fix it, they could only fix it if they're part of the problem
Are they part of the problem? Maybe they're a problem in themselves. Maybe I can't stand to be in the same building as them anymore because their concern and their compassion reek of secrecy. They're not telling me something, something that they're discussing only between themselves. Why else would they have hushed themselves so quickly on my walking into the room? But I don't care. If this thing gets its way, they won't have to worry about me soon enough.
What if I haven't seen anything at all?
No, God damn it, it's making me second guess myself. That's got to be its game! It tortures you with paranoia and self-doubt until you believe nothing, until you go insane. But it won't get me. I know its fucking game now. It won't get me to lose the last vestiges of sanity, what little my mind may hold on to. I may not look it, but I'm sane. It's my family and friends who have the problem. I know its game.
Fine, if that's what it wants, I'll play ball. It may be around my house, it may not be. It may be watching me, I may be watching myself. But I know where it is. This time I'm not taking a camera, I'm taking my rosary.