i am not insane.

Running.  Running.  Running.  Running.  Stop.

Are they still there?  Are they following me?  They haunt me, you know.  They blame me for what happened to them.  But I didn't do it, I swear.  I had nothing to do with any of this any of this any of this.  They are dead dead dead.  What do they even know?  They make it up.  It's not true true true.

Go away.  Running.  Running.  Running.  Running.

"HEY KID!  STOP THAT" Stop what?  Why tell me to stop?  Don't you see them, see the torment that follows in their wake?  Don't you see the little girl with blood dripping into her eyes?  Don't you see the old man missing a leg and a bullet wound in his skull?  Don't you see the teenage boy missing half his face?  Don't you see them, haunting me?  I know you can.

Running.  Running.  Running.  Running.  Turn.

Did they notice?  Are they still there?  Did they see me turn?  Is she still following me, that little girl?  The little girl with blood in her eyes, with a slit throat?  Is the little girl with the bloody lollipop still following me?  Is she still there with her white, deadpan face?  IS SHE?  Did you see her hair?  How it falls in her face, a bow barely attached to the end?

RUNNING.








i am not insane.  they are doing this.  it is them.  not me.  i am not insane.