Billy Loomis has never cared about anything in his life until Stu Macher changes that. Afraid that his strange thoughts would make the only person he's ever cared for leave him.. instead Billy and Stu hatch a plan that will turn their little suburba...
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January 1996, Woodsboro, CA.
The walls are white, the ceiling is white and the man sat at the desk before me has unnaturally white teeth. This is all rather clinical.
"William?"
I look up at the man with unnaturally white teeth, I can't remember his name and I have no idea what he just said. I nod like I agree.
The white toothed man sighs gently and he rubs at his temples, he looks as tired as I feel "I was hoping we would have you off these meds by now but it seems we haven't made any progress"
I look away at the door, it seems to be getting farther away.
"I'm going to prescribe you a lower dosage and we will check in, in a few weeks. I was hoping to wean you off them slowly but I'm not sure we're ready for that just yet. But you must come to the next appointment, it's important" He looks into my eyes trying to show how serious this is but all I can think of is how he reeks of espresso and still has white teeth.
"I understand" All his words fall through my mind; I try to catch them but I can't.
"Do you have a parent or guardian that I can speak with at your next appointment?"
I sigh internally "My Father is away on business" I lie a lie I have said a thousand times "My Mother was supposed to come today but she couldn't make it" I lie again "What about my sleeping pills?" I twist the skin on my arms underneath the desk trying to get at the itch that is scratching my mind, diverting my thoughts.
"I want you to try to last without them for the next couple of weeks. It's important to give your body a break from them time to time" This time he lies, what he really means is, it looked bad on him that I overdosed on sleeping pills due to his negligence months ago and now he's covering his back. I nod my head to his next few questions by now my skin is crawling making it even harder to try and listen. I say goodbye, he hands me an appointment card and a prescription. I go to the reception and collect my cocktail of medicines from a lady who smiles without showing her teeth.
I leave the building and walk down the sidewalk, focusing on the pavement and not on the feel of my skin and the urge to tear it. My mind, my mind is so fast and concentrating is like catching a grain of sand. Thousands of them fall through my fingers and I can't catch any of them.
It's been nearly 4 months since we killed Maureen.
When it first happened, I felt free, well free'er. There was still a niggling, but I really thought it had fixed a part of me that was broken. More of me would be fixed the more I kill. But it didn't last long, within a week I started feeling my minds haze, my thoughts getting heavier and faster. The world around me getting greyer, the feeling that I'm just watching other people experiencing things and I'm sleepwalking through the days and nights. I don't get it. I'm getting so desperate for it to stop that I considered bringing the plan forward but I can't. It needs to be the first anniversary. So what else has changed? Months before Maureen's death I was feeling better, I was almost at ease and I thought that was because of Stu. But then it came back so I thought it was the idea of killing. It doesn't make any sense. Wait, did it start coming back when I was spending more time with Sid? When I was barely seeing Stu? So was it Stu that made my mind, better? It was Stu that put the broken pieces together? I thought killing would be the glue. Not him. It can't be. I have always known the only thing I was born to do, was to harm. It's not Stu Macher.
