When I started this blog I wanted to hone my skills, explore ideas I had trapped in the inner depths of my mind, but instead, I somehow managed to unleashed an attack on my own sanity, one that won’t yield, given more power by me stupidly in giving a character in one of my stories free reign over the blog itself.
Since that day, I’ve been plagued by dreams bathed in nightmares, which have broken my sanity, my life has collapsed, I feel isolated from my family, my daughter has started seeing strange images of a deformed creature and everything I thought was true, has become twisted in lies and works of fiction.
The man from my dream, the one in the white room, he came to me again, he said he had a gift, a story, one written just for me. He handed me a folder, smiling broadly.
I asked what it was about, he laughed, and said it was about me, it was my story, all of it from the beginning to the end, and if I wanted to be free of all this, if I wanted to live, I needed to understand my role, why I was so important to him, the one in the shadows, and how I could change it to my advantage.
I felt my skin crawl, and then, he was gone, I was alone, normally I would’ve said it was a dream, another piece of my sanity slipping, I mean, this isn’t a horror movie, this isn’t another one of my stories, this is my life! But, I have the folder, I have his story, my story, I just don’t know if I have to courage to open it.