It is 5 PM local time and I have not left my bed. The darkness that has followed me and sometimes caught me since I was sixteen, was waiting for me last night. It invades my brain like an infecting plague, leaving me lifeless, soulless inside. The darkness began just after the Jorgensen boy was killed on his way home from the last day of school. I follow the killers, the killers follow death, and death follows me. Wears me down, sometimes. The darkness has a voice and it’s never quiet but it is never loud. It softly whispers into your ear- things that sound kind when first heard but have a strange way of wrapping around your brain until you can’t stop screaming for release, screaming for death. There is one voice in my head and two more sitting on chairs across the room. I’ve been told that the guys who are in the chairs are a cleaning crew. If can’t get out of this, I will be the mess the crew cleans up with snow shovels and contractor bags
North Archipelago 