|
I used to own a couple of rifles. That is until my dad came over to my house and found one loaded laying on a chair the day after I was committed to a hospital psychiatric ward. Dad took my guns then and he still has them.
I think he thought that I was going to shoot myself with one of them. That idea had been going through my head for some time, but it wasn't the case the night before he found my loaded gun. I had every intention of shooting someone else then.
I owned this big, beautiful townhouse at the time. It was in bad shape when I bought it. I was in the process of fixing it up with the idea of selling it for a profit when the bad stuff went down. A friend of the family was helping me fix up the place. He was very proud of the work he was doing there and he would sometimes bring a couple of his friends over to view the progress.
I was crazier than hell at the time, but I was good at hiding it I guess. When I was admitted to the hospital my folks were surprised. They knew that something wasn't quite right with me, but they never expected anything as serious as psychosis.
One night after I got home from work I was obsessing about what was happening to me. I thought everybody could read my mind and see my most private thoughts. Then my paranoia turned to my friend and his friends. I started having memories of them performing sex acts on me. Only it wasn't "me." It was one of my multiple personalties. I was recovering memories from those other personalities. The walls between them were starting to get holes in them. It turned out that they had actually known me from the time I was a child and that they had performed those acts since then and they had actually made me have multiple personalities. They had programmed me from the beginning to be a kind of toy for them. I laid there in bed in the middle of the night with all of that going through my head. I had to escape from them.
Then I heard footsteps downstairs. Someone was in the house. I got up and scrambled for my clothes and locked myself in the upstairs bathroom. There was a little closet in the bathroom where I kept my guns and ammo. I picked a rifle and loaded it. I was shaking horribly. I heard footsteps outside the bathroom door. Then I heard voices. They were whispering, but I could hear them through the duct work to the register in the bathroom. They were talking about how I knew now. They were discussing what they should do. I cocked the trigger and started yelling.
"I got a gun you motherfuckers! And I'm gonna put a bullet in the first person who tries to come in here!"
I heard someone say "oh, shit!" and I heard scrambling outside of the door. I stood there sweating and breathing hard for a while. I could hear more whispers. They were talking about how they should have known sooner.
I had to get out of there. I stood behind the door for a few minutes. Then I went. I unlocked the door and threw it open all in one motion. I jumped out of the doorway with the cocked rifle in my hands like a member of a SWAT team. I saw two people duck back behind a doorway to one of the bedrooms. I ran down the stairs and out the front door. Then I realized that I still had the gun and I uncocked it and threw it back into the house into a chair by the door. The I ran out to my truck, hopped in and sped off into the night.
I didn't stop until I got about 80 miles from the house down south of Cincinnati. I got a hotel room. It was about 4AM.
I wasn't able to sleep. I called my mom and yelled at her for a little while. I thought she was a part of the conspiracy to keep me a mind controlled sex slave. She talked me into coming home. I gave her hell for a little while longer, but she talked me into going to the hospital.
"Welcome to the system, Droopy. We've been waiting for you." I passed out in the emergency room.
|
Printer-friendly format
Email this thread to a friend
Bookmark this thread
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
