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There was a bright, hot beam of sun hitting my face; I didn’t really start moving or feeling alert though until it finally bugged me enough to make me wonder if I was getting a sunburn. It was the afternoon, right in the dead middle of April. I slowly opened my eyes, which immediately started to sting, and blinked pretty hard a few times. I felt the toes of one of my feet touching the rug right below my bed; telling me the lower half of my body was probably hanging off the bed. My arm, on the opposite side of that foot, was sitting on top of the messy pile of pillows my head was still resting on. As I started to become more alert and breath at a regular pace, there was a sharp, almost pain-like sensation in my chest spreading out throughout my body, making me jolt and my feet twitch; feeling almost like electricity. Despite this, immediately my eyes got heavy again, and I turned around miserably, trying to get my mind back into my head finally coming to terms it was time to get up.
There was music blaring in my ear, it sounded muffled for a while since I was so tired but it finally started annoying my sensitive senses. I looked around the corner and tried grabbing the source of it lazily before hearing a small light thud to the floor, muffled by the carpet. I let out an annoyed groan and forced myself to curl upwards like some kind of pathetic shrimp thing; and after having my head in my hands for a couple minutes, nearly falling asleep in that position again, I reached down for my phone and turned off the alarm. I overslept a good hour thirty, per usual. I don’t think there’s even a real point of having an alarm anymore, I’m not even sure why I keep it on. Maybe it's routine? Some sort of hope it’ll work? I’m not sure, chances are it's probably just the music that I like if anything; it was a rock band I’ve listened to since high school, and obviously still do, so I always figured making them my alarm was reasonable. I soon unplugged the device from its charger and scrolled through it with one hand for what could’ve been 10 or 30 minutes, before reluctantly getting out of bed slowly and standing up.
A few seconds after I stood I got hit with a wash of vertigo and leaned against the wall to catch myself, accompanied with a grunt. I soon pinched my nose and cussed under my breath. Love that, love feeling like I’m 60 something when I’m just 21.
I shook it off pretty eventually and stretched enough to not feel too stiff, recognizing pretty quickly I had slept on my elbow weirdly; stretching my arm out to try and pop it and make it feel normal again, but I failed my first few attempts and ultimately gave up. I stared at my bedsheets and blankets, which were pretty much half off the bed; I grabbed them, tossing them back on halfheartedly, and left the room like that while scratching my back.
I glared at my reflection in the mirror, my blonde brows were furrowed, pushed together. I looked at my icy blue eyes staring past me with my almost unhappy looking expression; although really that’s just my face. I look angry all the time, but honestly I’m barely angry half of the time, maybe at best a quarter. I eventually looked at my pale blonde hair sitting in my face and slowly looked down to my somewhat hunched posture; my eyes then drifted below the neck, where I had my hands graze the pectoral muscles and sides of my shirtless body. I gently grabbed my biceps and had my one hand slide down the forearm of the other, meeting its hand.
“God, I’m so damn white,” I muttered, a little embarrassed, I was not exactly proud of how obvious my veins were under my flesh or how easy it is for anything to fuck up my body, like just bumping into a table weirdly; hell, I think my skin could be so sensitive that being looked at funny would catch me bruises for crying out loud. At least my body looked decent, not as good as it was in high school but not too bad. I used to be a lot more muscular, and super fit, but these days I don’t care as much to keep my body in peak performance, so I’ve gained some unwanted weight and it’s started to show; but I could care less. My therapist’s already told me to ease it with self-cynicism so that’s the plan.
It was a Sunday, so I had no classes scheduled for the entire day but I did have homework I could probably get done tonight, I wasn’t sure what kind though; maybe chemistry? I stood around dissociating in the bathroom for a while before debating if I should bother with a shower, and ultimately decided to go do it; I stunk like male sweat anyway. I was gonna go with a full shower routine, but I ended up just rinsing off and stepping out, drying off lazily and getting back into my room to grab clothes and my glasses.
I stepped out into the main room, the apartment I had been lucky enough to be allowed to live in had two bedrooms and one bathroom; it had a small kitchen and something like a living room and it was just enough space for me and my twin brother. We both entered our second year of college not too long ago, and he was willing to live with me as long as I covered my half of the utilities and rent, which was a fair trade off for me. It was always pretty quiet here since we don’t talk much these days, but it isn’t too bad, it’s just kinda hard to remember I’m even living with someone if it wasn’t for the finances being reasonable reminding me. I was eating a toasted everything bagel with cream cheese and lox pretty quickly at the counter I cobbled it together at, licking the excess cream cheese off my fingers, and checked my phone. No notifications.
I walked around a little and eventually called out “Damien?” but was met with no answer. Figures. He must’ve left a while ago and didn’t think, or care, to let me know, he never really does anyway; well, he used to but not anymore.
I dropped down on the couch with a grunt staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to do with my day. Before it hit me and made my eyes widen a little, “fuck, my medications-”
I stood up cussing to myself, pouring tap water into a cup and grabbed my pill organizer from the cabinet above me, opening the “Sunday” container. I poured them all out into my hand and took them each one at a time, failing to swallow one or two a few times and as a result called myself a dumbass in my head. I let out a sigh and put down the water and pill organizer.
I went back over to the couch and crossed my legs, leaning back into the cushions, my face tensing with slight anger. As much as being a kid and a teenager sucked, adulthood felt worse and better in a lot of ways; it fucking sucked, I was responsible for myself and my actions, responsible for my behavior, responsible for keeping a home, responsible for keeping a job, responsible for my education, responsible for my goddamn happiness… it was such bullshit, I used to have someone I could trust to be there with me through thick and thin, now I live with a fucking ghost.
My face eventually relaxed into disappointment; I’m the only one who made myself miserable when it came to people. I’m lucky to even be out of that stupid town anyways, things could suck a lot worse.
I leaned over and grabbed the remote off the coffee table, turning on the TV; I could use a distraction.
—————————————————————
It must’ve been a few hours by this point, I got myself invested in a crime show involving police corruption, before my phone loudly blared one of the most obnoxious sounds you could ever hear come out of a phone. I flinched, spooked, blinking and looking down at it and realized it was just a Public Safety Alert. I picked up my phone to take a quick look, something about an officer or whatever going missing and being found dead in my area. I put down my phone, not really giving a shit, before I heard that obnoxious sound AGAIN from the TV this time; the stupid thing started making me nervous, so I quickly switched over to the news channel just to see how close this stupid killer was. It was incredibly close, it turns out, and the officer in question was a private detective. His body was discovered brutalized and mangled in a lake where fish were already eating at him. There was no photos of this, besides just what the man looked like, but the description was plenty. I put my foot down from its crossed position since it was starting to fall asleep; they didn’t have any suspects, but there was talk about all things this detective guy found relating to his case being murked. I sighed deeply and turned off the television, and swiped the alert off my phone; then I got up.
I decided I was gonna just work on my assignments like I planned to do tonight, the stupid cop shit shook me up a little so I felt this was probably just the best course of action anyway.
I looked around, feeling a little paranoid, but nothing was unusual. I kept having to remind myself I live on the 13th floor of a huge apartment building, the odds of anything insane happening to me, let alone a killer, were slim to none. Despite this I didn’t feel too relieved, but whatever.
I went down the hall where my room was and looked at the other room across from it, my brother Damien’s. I looked down and noticed that it was actually a little open, huh, odd. I told myself not to snoop, but of course I didn’t listen to anything rational in my head and opened the door a bit to take a peek; it was grossly neat, as always, with nothing really unusual going on. I wasn’t really sure what I was expecting by looking inside, although I noticed his weird amount of mirrors. He had a mirror above a vanity, then a full body mirror that had a bedsheet covering it, for whatever reason. I cringed a little in my head noticing even the stupid bedsheet covering that mirror was ironed like the rest of the fabrics in his room. I let a small groan slip out of my mouth in response to that and closed the door, going back to my room.
Who needs that many damn mirrors? I thought to myself, opening the door into my room; which was significantly more disorganized and messy than his. It was covered in posters all over the walls with no mirrors anywhere in the room, my sheets were messy and undone, I had a bunch of pillows piled on one side of my bed, my nightstand had a bunch of half finished-now-stale-water bottles covering it, some open some closed and there was a pile of dirty clothes in the corner next to my dresser. I usually only bothered cleaning my room when it reached a point; unlike my brother who can’t handle a damn dust particle. I sat down in my desk chair, I still remember when we shared a room as kids before our parents split us into separate rooms in middle school. He used to get so upset with my lack of care for filth, so did our parents, actually. There were times I’d get hit, spanked, or grounded because of it, not like any of that stuff fixed me, obviously, I still do it.
I opened up my laptop and turned it on, logging in and opening my college’s website to figure out my assignment situation. I went through it, eventually confirming it was Chemistry homework I had to do. I opened up one of the assignments and got to work, miserably leaning on my fist which was leaning via my elbow on my desk. It took me about an hour of looking at my computer to realize my room was pitch black, which finally started to distract me, so I got under the desk while staying seated and switched on a switch which turned on my lamp; I yawned, cracking my back in my seat and tried to get back to work. Because of the small interruption in my groove though I was spacing the hell out every few questions I answered, and after a point it got really unbearable. I rubbed my eyes and checked the time, it was nearly 4 PM, so I checked my phone only to be met with no notifications. I didn’t hear Damien come home at all prior to this, but I left my room anyway to check.
I looked around, checking the key holder on the wall, nope, still not back. Weird. What the hell was he doing? From my understanding, for a college kid he’s boring as hell, he won’t even go to concerts because something something “the devil.” I don’t even know if he has friends, or where he works. All I know is he goes to a way fancier college than I do, it’s why we moved out to California to begin with; he was accepted there. For me, I got into a local community college to figure out my shit before I bust my ass in University. I stood around a little trying to think of what kinds of things my weird brother would be up to, before feeling a little paranoid again, scurrying back to my room.
I closed and locked the door behind me, feeling real stupid I was so paranoid of an unknown guy who just killed a cop; but all I could think about was the graphic description he left the guy in, cops fucking suck, sure, but the very idea of someone going through the trouble to behead a guy, smash his body a ton of times with a blunt force object, and toss him out in a busy lake? I sat back down at my computer, that cop must’ve flown too close to the sun on whatever he was investigating.
Even though I should be finishing my assignments, I was distracted looking into the case, and the more I learned the more fucked up it got. The unknown suspect had gotten rid of everything this guy was looking into, from digital to physical evidence somehow. He obliterated hard drives to smithereens, files were unrecoverable, computers smashed, the cop’s home was trashed and his family was displaced, any security cameras were completely destroyed, and this guy had even gone as far as to threaten his wife and kids with a fucking video tape of him murdering their father/husband as a sick gruesome cherry on top of the shit sundae.
And despite ALL of that, there wasn’t so much of a trace. No fingerprints, footprints, no trace of hairs or DNA, absolutely nothing. Even with this guy being cocky enough to videotape his crime as a joke, there was nothing at all to go off of. Whoever this dude was, he was a professional at what he was doing. Which must’ve meant he’s killed plenty before; which had me wondering, was this a cartel thing? A gang or syndicate of some kind? Would make sense, but then what’s with the cocky messages? Is that something those sorts of sick people do? I wouldn’t really know, even though this stuff is some of my favorites to research.
It was unhealthy for me, but for the longest time I’d research crime cases for hours; I had to stop once my therapist identified it was worsening my paranoia, though. So I really shouldn’t be doing any of this, but I don’t know. I felt like I couldn’t help it, honestly. I mean this was all huge, crazy shit happening right in my area - and, now to think of it; Damien was still not home. Now I was worried, call it paranoia, it probably was, but he’s my brother. Of course I’m gonna be worried. I picked up my phone next to me and inputted the code, I went to the phone app and scrolled my painfully short list to find him, ringing his number; it rang for a while, before he picked it up.
I adjusted myself in my chair “Hey, Damien, you’ve been out for a while, man, are you alright?” I tried sounding nonchalant, he was unusually quiet for a little bit before speaking. “I’m fine, I’m actually headed home now. I had just hit traffic.” He said in a flat, but mildly cheerful tone. It was a little odd to me but I ignored it anyway, “where were you today? Been gone basically the whole day, dude.” I scratched the back of my head. “I was invited to golf.” He said plainly, I blinked, “I’m sorry… golf??” I said with mild shock in my voice, he fucking golfs? Who golfs at 21 years old? Does he hang out with old people or something?? “Yes, golf, I was golfing, what, have you never noticed the golf clubs?” He lightly chuckled. I felt a little stupid all of a sudden, golf clubs? Since when were there golf clubs here? “Uh, no, I haven’t. Sorry, I guess. When’re you getting home?” I said a bit awkwardly. “In an hour or so, I’ll see you then.” He then hung up on me, which made me grumble a bit.
“Prick,” I muttered, I went back over to my assignments and stared at my screen for a while. I was actually able to focus for a good thirty minutes until I started feeling the urge to piss rise up. I ignored it since I was busy but it got worse and worse and eventually distracted me enough where I got up, sighing, and went to exit my room. I tried opening my door, but it wouldn’t budge, which reminded me I locked the door, so I unlocked it while grumbling to myself; I exited the room and walked towards the bathroom with my hands in my pockets.
I opened the door more so I could enter, then turned on the light switch. I blinked a bit as my eyes adjusted to how harshly bright the lighting was, then closed and locked the bathroom door. I walked over to the toilet and went to lift the lid and the seat up, before I heard the toilet make a weird noise. I blinked in mild surprise.
“What the hell?” I said out loud, listening a little bit more before shrugging it off, odd but I guess toilets do make weird random noises for no reason sometimes. I pulled down my pants while yawning and lifted the lid, I stood up straight and close to the bowl, looking down, and my heart rate immediately shot up.
I instinctively flinched backwards, tripping on my pants and falling right on my tailbone; I froze in shock, there was a scream stuck in my throat but I couldn’t cough it out. I was paralyzed. I couldn’t move once I had scooted myself to the corner of the bathroom, my breathing slowly started going up, until my chest was unbelievably tight as I started realizing what the fuck I just saw.
I sat there for what felt like 2 seconds or 50 years, shaking violently as I forced myself up with my bones feeling like they were sloshing in my body. I was hit with vertigo and nausea as I stood, I couldn’t even look at it again. I couldn’t. I pulled up my pants so I wouldn’t trip again and forced myself to hold my bladder in as much as I could. I quickly swiped at the lid so it could fall down and cover the freakshow sight in the bowl. I opened the door and staggered out of the bathroom. “What do I do what do I do what do I do” was racing in my head and slipping out of my lips as I paced around in a circle in the living room while holding my arms to my chest. I was too scared to call the police, since there’s no way they wouldn’t think I fucking murdered that cop myself, but then that. How did this even. I couldn’t think.
There was a man’s head in my toilet, and I had no idea how it got there.
I felt like I was gonna cry, I wanted to scream, all I could do was freak out and pace until that was too hard to do, which resulted in me just balling up in the corner of the apartment. The walls were watching me. There had to have been someone in my house, maybe they’re still here, they probably are and I’m fucking next because I was looking into it and I was coming to conclusions about shit that wasn’t my business at all I am going to end up with my throat slit or worse and be taped or sold or-
The door opened, I screamed loud as fuck on the verge of fainting, before my brain finally realized it was just Damien. He was staring at me, for obvious reasons, with a flat look. He was holding golfing gear in one arm and was holding his keys in the other.
“You look awful, what twisted your manhood?” He said, relatively disinterested as he closed the door, turning back to look back at me.
I couldn’t speak, I just pathetically got to my feet and gripped his wrist, dragging him to the bathroom.
I couldn’t see his face, since I wasn’t looking at it, but I could tell he was cringing from the cold sweat of my hands; I didn’t care though, I couldn’t speak so all I could do was show.
I stared at the toilet, feeling like I was ready to vomit, the bile climbing my throat, but I forced myself to use my foot to open the lid, looking away.
“Why did you drag me to the toilet.” He said in an annoyed tone, I opened my eyes and looked at him, he had his arms crossed with a bored expression on his face. I looked in the bowl, and was met with nothing but water in it.
I stood there in shock.
“But there was- there was a fucking head in here-” I blurted in complete and utter shock, only to hear Damien sneer a bit, I looked over towards him. “I’m being fucking serious.” I growled, clearly extremely upset, what the fuck is his problem??
“Take your medications, Mikey.” He shook his head a little with a stupid smirk on his face as he walked out of the bathroom.
I stood there, unable to grasp what had just happened to me.
I eventually took a piss, and subscribed myself to my room for the rest of the evening, then night, then early morning, laying wide awake on my bed. My head was full of nothing and everything all at once, until my alarm went off.
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