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mental illness

A Very Lonely Road

The sound of the car engine coughing and sputtering made my heart sink and my stomach knot. I always had a bad feeling about driving something that was twenty-three years of age. Even though it only had a hundred-thousand miles on it and had gotten me many places, I always …

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The Artist

There’s this painting my wife loves, called “Death and Life”, by Klimt. I don’t know what she finds so fascinating about it. I made all the right noises when she showed me her beloved framed print when we were first dating, “oohing” and “ahhing” and making up some bullshit about warm …

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The Valentine House

“Damn, Valentine shit already?” I asked my friend Gabriel as we were walking inside a Wal-Mart post Christmas. “Yeah, bro, and it’s still December. It’s like they’re completely ignoring the months in between the other months that have major holidays.” “True, true, annoys the shit out of me though, you …

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The Spider in the Bed

The Spider in the Bed

“I don’t want to talk. Really. I just want to go to bed,” she said, taking out her earrings. She hustled by him without making eye contact, tossed the mail on the dresser, and lightly brushed him away. He reflexively glanced at the scattered envelopes. Bills. What’s that one from …

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Madness and Mockingbirds

White. That was Jim’s world. The walls were white, the floor was white, the orderlies wore white. It was an upsetting, all-encompassing white which left him feeling a little dizzy. And there wasn’t much for him to do besides be absorbed in it. Occasionally, the sounds of crying or screaming …

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Out of Hell

Home again after a difficult but very rewarding day of convincing people not to give up on the gift of life. Richard Burner often had to deal with pretty stubborn suicidal people, but so far he had always been able to open their eyes to see all the beauty in …

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Tappy Crow: The Calling of the Crows

The glare of the computer screen was the only light shining throughout the dimly lit room. Besides the sounds of quick, mechanical, keyboard clicking and an occasional finger tapping on a hardwood desk, the room was silent. A boy sat alone in the center of the room, running his hand …

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Hoodie (The Hooded Man)

Have you ever been influenced by clothing? I don’t mean confidence by looks. Have you ever been given more control than ever by an item, or a truth, or just a favorite shirt? Have you ever been influenced in the worst way? By showing the truth? The following is taken …

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The Musician

“Name?” the man sitting across from my asked. I coughed. My mind had been wandering again. The man looked at me patiently. “Name?” he repeated again. “Edwin,” I replied. “Edwin Stroud.” The man pursed his lips slightly as he checked the papers in front of him. “Occupation?” He asked. “Musician,” …

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O’Malley’s Family Restaurant

As younger siblings tend to do, I absolutely worshipped my older brother Calvin. He always seemed like the coolest person in the world to me. Everybody liked him. He was president of his class, a star baseball player, and just had an all-around great personality. All the girls thought that …

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Clockwork: Your Time is Up

A little girl sat in her room. Her messy brown hair was put into little pigtails, as her hazel eyes stared at the door. She hugged her stuffed giraffe close to her little body and listened closely to the loud yells of her father and mother. “I never should have …

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The Tulpa

Last year I spent six months participating in what I was told was a psychological experiment. I found an ad in my local paper looking for imaginative people looking to make good money, and since it was the only ad that week that I was remotely qualified for, I gave …

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Will You Play With Me?

I never wanted to reveal my story, but it has to be done. It’s been so long, and nobody’s known. But now I confide in you, the reader, to read my story, and attempt to comprehend the horrors I experienced. My fingers stutter and shake and tears cascade down my …

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Jeff the Killer

Jeff the Killer Origins and History You wake at 3AM. Disturbed by some subtle shifting sound within the room, just on the edge of hearing. Propping up on one arm you survey the room looking for some source for the noise, hoping beyond hope that you won’t find one. At …

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NoEnd House

Let me start by saying that Peter Terry was addicted to heroin. We were friends in college and continued to be after I graduated. Notice that I said “I”. He dropped out after two years of barely cutting it. After I moved out of the dorms and into a small apartment, I didn’t see Peter as much. We would talk online every now and then (AIM was king in pre-Facebook years). There was a period where he wasn’t online for about five weeks straight. I wasn’t worried. He was a pretty notorious flake and drug addict, so I assumed he just stopped caring. Then one night I saw him log on. Before I could initiate a conversation, he sent me a message.

Psychosis

Sunday I’m not sure why I’m writing this down on paper and not on my computer. I guess I’ve just noticed some odd things. It’s not that I don’t trust the computer… I just… need to organize my thoughts. I need to get down all the details somewhere objective, somewhere …

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