apartmentfear1

Darkness envelops the night. It's gotten strange. This is shit no human being should have to deal with. Let alone me. Damn it, have you people no respect? Is there no integrity, no honor, decency left in the hearts of man? Or is it just down to the piggish rutting of beasts and bastards now?

The walls have gone orange, and are threatening to fall in on me. This what it'd be like if James and Giant Peach became a TV series. Every week, the walls would rot and collapse a bit further. It's watching a Jack-O-Lantern hit November 3rd, it's eye lids growing closer and closer together by the day like some sick junkie. The walls are orange and threatening to fall in. If I listen, I can hear the glass in the windows bending, like thick slices of cheese. Ready to break.

What the fuck happened to tonight? I remember talking, something about the phone. A girl. Or was that earlier today, before I went downtown? No, that was a different girl. Then I came home and she called me, or better yet, I called her. And we spoke, but she was getting all fucked up, so I had to let her go. Then, a scant few hours later, I was dialing the device again. I'd just gotten back from fetching my laundry from the direr, and the trip back from the laundry room had done nothing but convince me that some great evils lay behind every door. I could hear cops pressing their fat ears up against every door as I went by, and Archie Bunker couples fighting like mad dogs or wart hogs, ready to spill out into the hallway and eat my flesh off. They could all sense my weakness as I walked past their doors. The laundry hamper squeaked. My footsteps were slow and unsure.

But then, as the fear would grip me, I'd break into a half run, all the way down to my door. I couldn't bare the idea of someone confronting me in the state I was in, it was like a bad dream. So long as nobody spoke to me, saw me, or knew I existed, I'd be okay. I became suspicious that somebody had planted cameras in the hallway lights. I had to make a call.

Jesus. The world slips from the walls, and crawls towards me. Fuckers, I should be armed. Where's my knife?

I found the knife, and felt a bit more safe. At least now I could defend myself from whatever might crawl from the back of some shady corner.

Where was I? The phone call. I had to make a phone call. After making it through the hallway and back to my dwelling pit, I became aware that something evil was afoot. Something that just reeked of menace and blood. The floor would become thick and sticky with it by the end. It'd be like a dinosaur tar pit of the shit before anybody made it out alive. So I had to make a call.

I dialed, and couldn't get through. I'd tired before getting the clothes from the drier, and it'd been busy then, too. I figured that was a good sign, it meant that either it was off the hook, or somebody was up. Either way, it'd be hard for me to be accused of being disturbing. Or maybe it'd be easy. Maybe I'd be sized up like some tiny bug just waiting to be eaten. Water would keep big the giant lizards, I can't let myself forget that part. I dialed again, and then just kept hitting redial until I made it through. I was in a mad panic by then, my heart was beating so mad that blood was about to come out the top of my head like some sort of sick demon from hell sperm whale. The world was threatening to consume me, to eat me alive. And everybody had an eye on the door.