Paranoia. [Short Story with my Charrie- Paranoia.]

Clashing bells. They ring in my mind, not showing any sign of stopping. Headache. Migraine. It hurts. So much. I can't stop it. Every clang has a horrible impact on my ear drums.

Heart pounding. It's racing. What happened?

White. White. Blindingly bright.

I can't remember?

Figure. Human figure. Male figure. He shoves a tray of some strange substance into the White.

How I loathe the color White.

It isn't a color. Not a color. No, No. I refuse to think it a color.

Night flashes to me. Red on the wall. Familiar screams.

Mother. Brother. Sister. Father.

Hurt. Pain. Crying. Sad.

Gashes. Cuts. Slashes. Stabs.

Kill Mother and Father? Kill Brother and Sister?

Did I?

I did.

Mirgrain gone. Tummy growls. I reach for the food. I slowly put the piece of bed in my mouth.

Choke, Gag?

No. No. Eat properly.

Drink more White. Odd taste. Is it milk?

It is milk.

How I wish for chocolate.

Yummy.

Door opens again. Curvy figure. Woman figure.

"Hello, Alairic. I'm here to talk to you about last night, honey."

Honey. Honey is sweet. Yummy. Tummy hungers for sweets.

"Did you kill your family?"

Family. Family gone? Killed. Dead.

"Dead." I shake my head.

"Did you kill them?"

"I killed them?" I question, "Yes. I killed them."

She nods, jotting down notes on wood. Wood and... And paper.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Where am I?" I asked, my eyes flickering to her tan face.

"Hospital. Mental Hospital."

Mental. I'm not Mental. Am I Mental? No. No, no noooo....

"I belong here. I belong here?" I ask.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes, Alairic."

Alairic? Alairic? Who is that? I am Alairic? No. Paranoia.

"Not Alairic." I shake my head once more.

"Oh?" She asks, intrigued.

"Paranoia. I am Paranoia."

She mutters something and jots it down. She then throws her hand back in sort of a weird motion. A Wave.

"Have a good stay, 'Paranoia.'" She walks out. I look down. Feet are not bound. Neither are legs. Just upper body. Holding myself. Hugging myself.

I want to see outside. Want to see Envy.

Envy. Who is that?

Thinking of Envy makes my heart race. He is Love. Paranoia's Lover.

What if he comes back?

He.

Who is He? Conscience? He scares me. He claims to be in love with me.

No, I am afraid.

Afraid of him.

He can't find me.

I want Envy.

Envy is good. Envy loves me. I love him.

Envy will protect me.

Sleep. Sleep sounds loving. I love sleep.

I curl myself into a ball and close my eyes.

Darkness. Better than Blinding White. Black is also good. Good like Envy.

Dream.

End