The Incident

Fear. One word. One syllable. Adjective. Means to have rising anxiety. That's what I think it means, anyways. I felt fear. I felt it a ton of times. Especially now. I'm full of fear. Now, let's begin.

~><~

Walking. I tend to do that ever since… a dark pad meant to stay that way too many brewery feelings.

I looked at my porch as I drew closer to my house. My house was rather small. Nothing too spectacular to draw attention. Just a place to hide myself until I found either a better and more convenient option, or was able to shake the fear that had consumed my life.

As I look to on my porch, I notice something odd. Something that wasn't there when I left earlier that morning. A package. A mysterious package with brown wrapping paper. I picked up the pace I was walking and looked around and I made my way onto my porch. Looking around one more time before bending down to pick up the package. No one knows where I live I thought to myself. I told no one where I was. I was afraid if anyone knew where I lived, they would come and get me when I least expected it and take me some where I did not want to go. Before the incident happened, I had lots of friends. Even my family stayed in communication with me. Now, I am sure they all think I am crazy and would rather have me locked up. Knowing this, I take one more survey of the area.

I pick up the package, suspicious. It wasn't too heavy. There was no return address and no name of who it was addressed too. My mind starts to ponder all of the possibilities of what could be inside this package. It could be a phone since I did order another track phone last week. It could be another book I ordered from the library. I shake all of those ideas out of my head because all of those would include at least a return address and this package had none.

That one feeling began to come. Everything gets darker. My heart beats a million times per second and I cannot breathe. I had this same feeling when I held my daughter for the last time when she died in my arms. I hated this feeling. I hated it because it always takes me to another reality where I no longer know what is real at the time. I relive the whole day over. Everything changes except my daughter always dies. Having these episodes has caused me to shelter myself and seclude from the world. I have been having these episodes so much that I now know when they come. They are not my warning signs, warning me of danger or of a situation I cannot control is approaching.

~><~

Memory

A regular day. It was warm and sunny. Beautiful, actually. Not too hot out and the wind was blowing the perfect breeze. Almost like that of a movie, I am in this alley. I can hear my daughter calling my name but I cannot see her. I am punching and kicking a man who had abused and assaulted my daughter the previous day. I am winning the fight as he was defenseless for a moment. He kicks me off. As I hit the ground I look over and I see his gun. He sees his gun too and we both dart for it. Just like that, my daughter is in the scene and she is running to my aid. "CRAK, CRAK, CRAK" goes the mans .45 caliber. I will never forget my daughters face as the bullets hit her in the back torso, back shoulder, and the back of her left leg. She falls immediately to the ground. I crawl over to her, screaming "NOOOOOOOO". I scoop her into my arms and for a split second she looks the same as she did when she was born. Tears running down her eyes and a little trail of blood coming out the corner of her mouth she mouth's the words "I love you dad" to me.

I open my eyes and I am cuddling the brown package on my porch. "Noooooooo" I scream. "I can fix this, I can stop the gun" I say crying. I close my eyes again and I am back in the alley.

But it was too late. The gun went off. She was dead. The man just standing there, looked as if he was pleased with his self. I yell something to the man. I lay my daughter gently on the ground and I get up. I take off, full sprint towards the man half expecting to get shot myself. The man drops the gun and turns like he is going to make a break for it. I catch the man by grabbing onto the left back of his jacket. I grab his whole arm and yank him down to the ground. I snap his whole arm and all you hear is a loud "POP" sound and the man yelling in agony and pain. He is struggling to get me off his back. He knocks me off of him and gets up. I get to my feet as he is nearing the end of the alley, nearing the street. I catch him again and push him into the street. His body is plowed by a semi truck. The truck screeches its tires but its too late. That man is dead.

He was dead.

Without even flinching, I run back to my daughter. I cradle her as she struggled for breath. My phone was dead. No ambulance could come. I am screaming, looking around for someone. Nothing. I have to save her, she cannot leave me, I think to myself.

I scream again "Someone call an ambulance!" My daughter struggled more. "Stay with me, Sarah. Sarah, please…"

My daughter died in my arms.

~><~

As I wipe my eyes and open them, I am back on the porch. That felt so real this time. They are getting worse.

I looked around as I stood up. The package still in my hand, I make one more look around. I get this eerie feeling like someone is watching. Someone had to be watching. That has to be the reason this package was here because they knew it would trigger another episode. I get to my feet, make another look about the front of my house and begin unlocking the front door.

Bam. I shut the door. Click click. Locked it. I looked down at the mysterious wrapping paper. It is brown manila like. There is no return address or no shipping address. So how did the delivery person know to deliver it to me? Someone had to have been watching me to know this is where I lived. Someone had to have been watching me to know this package showing up like this would cause me to have another episode.

I close my eyes and begin ripping the wrapping paper. "Ripppp".

I open the package with my eyes closed, holding my breath. I look down. Horror, fear, and terror rush in. I begin to feel light headed and the room is getting smaller. I look up towards the living room of my house as panic sets in. I look back inside the package, making sure I saw what I saw the first time. Inside is a perfectly wrapped hand and a phone on the side. A small but medium sized envelope laid next to it. It read: "open in your darkest moment."

The hand belonged to Hector. I could remember it from anywhere. The hand belonged to the man I killed. I had never been committed for his murder and I was never a suspect in his murder particularly. But I knew Hector was dead. I killed him in his own garage the same year my daughter died. I didn't understand. I killed him. I did not think anyone knew it was me that had killed Hector. Obviously, somebody knew otherwise I would not have his hand in my hands now.

Ring ring. I take the phone out of the package on the side of Hector's lifeless hand. I didn't get a chance to drop all senses and bolt. I didn't even get to check the other mysterious package with brown wrapping paper.

"...Hello?" Anxiousness filled me. Who was the caller? How did they know when to call me? Could they be inside of my house watching me at this very moment I thought. As I held the phone to my ear, I began looking around my living room quickly. Trying to distribute my attention to detail to the person on the phone, as well as noticing if anything looked out of the regular in my house. Even though it was not night outside, everything started getting darker.

"Hello, Joey." said the voice on the other end of the phone. A cold shiver ran down my spine. It was Hector Zeroni's voice. I never wanted to hear his voice again and when I killed him, I thought I made sure of two things. One, that he was in fact dead and for two, cutting his throat so if he did somehow by the grace of God make it, would never be able to speak again. Guess I did not do that good of a job. This was only the second person I had killed in my life.

"What the hell-"

"Settling in, Joey?"

"How did you survive..." I asked and was cut off to the sound of him laughing. His laugh was like no laugh I had ever heard. My heart jumped into my throat causing me to not be able to speak another word. I could hear him breathing heavily and it sounded so loud and so close, I whipped around nervously. Nothing but the front door behind me.

Hector makes a slight cough and says "I faked it. I waited until you left and I crawled to the garage door. My wife saw me and called the ambulance. I made it to the hospital. Guess what Joey? They were able to save my life. Ever since I got out of the hospital, I’ve been plotting on how to end your life."

Hector's words rang through my head the hole time he was speaking. He faked his death. Hector faked his death. After Hector took another long pause, I backed up to the front door. I stuck my free hand behind me and attempted to turn the knob. The knob was loose and wiggled. I tried to turn it one more time and it fell off onto the floor. Rolling towards the dinning room as if some kind of magnet was pulling it. I close my eyes and try to retrace the scenery outside.

"What the hell?" I yell out loud as I hear what sounded like footsteps. No one should be inside my house. No one should even know where I live I think to myself.

Just then Hector takes another breath and begins speaking. "I have you barricaded in. There is no way for you to escape, Joey.” He lets out another long breath and begins his weird laugh.

Reality starts to set in. I am trapped. I am trapped in my own house and in my own mind. I am alone other than this hand and Hector on the phone. It gets pitch black and the room is spinning again.

I put the package down on the ground and I make my way back to the front door. I look in the dinning room for the handle. It is gone. A little more freaked out, I make my way to the front door and begin to bang on the door. I tell myself this is not happening. This is just a messed up flashback dream or something and none of this is real. I was going to have to endure this inevitable death match of being alone again. I pick the phone back up and to my surprise, Hector is still on the phone.

I clear my throat and shake my whole body and say "Hector, let me out!"

Hector laughs his weird laugh and says "Not before you suffer as I did. You will suffer how I did when you "killed" me." It gets silent. I wait for a minute and listen. Hector does not say anything and he does not laugh this time. I say very sternly "Let. Me. OUT!"

Hector responds angrily, "No. You killed my son and tried to take my life away from me. You destroyed my life!" Astonished I reply "I wanted to get justice for my daughter! Your son raped and murdered my daughter. And out of all of this, you sent me to jail!". Hector did not say anything.

I bang more on the door. I am not sure what I thought would come from me banging, but I just felt like I had too. If Hector really was alive and all of this really was real, I knew how he loved his son. He would torture me for life I am sure. I know I tortured him when his son killed my daughter. I hate being trapped. It feels like I am being buried alive.

Hector still does not say anything on the phone. I place the phone on speak and set it down on the floor next to the box. I make my way over to the front door window curtains. I pull them back. It is night time. I look for the locks on the window. They are gone. Or did they ever come with locks in the first place I start to think.

As I slide down the front door and try to calm myself down, Hector takes his deep breath, and says "Enjoy the isolation, Joey." I scream into the phones direction "Hector, let me out!". Hector laughs and says "You will suffer as I did, Joey. And I hope you're ready."

Hector yells "Yes" and the phone disconnects. Silence creeps in. Normally, silence is not a bad or scary thing. Normally, I welcome the silence. Ever since Sara died I became secluded. Not wanting to be around people for long periods of time. All of that was because of the hallucinations. Sometimes the hallucinations would be so real and so intense, I would scare those around me. I was afraid of the monsters that came sometimes.

I rolled over to my knees and began growing back to the living room. Yelling and screaming, I made my way to the couch. Tearing it from the wall, I knew some how, Hector was watching me. Nothing but the wallpapered walls and the dusty floors. Looking up at the curtains that were two different colors, I push the couch further from the wall making the window accessible. Hectors words rang through my head. "Enjoy being trapped Joey" he said. I checked the window for the lock and the screen. Nothing. Panic fully set in, I began pushing everything away from the windows. I had to check everything. I know there was no way Hector could trap me in my own house. After checking the last window in the kitchen, I began to see the inside of a coffin. The velvety colored roof and sides. Walls getting closer and closer, I can almost feel the velvety, plush material on my skin. Shaking my head, trying to get a better focus and get me back in my kitchen, I see a door. A tiny little door, off in the distance. Not a door I have seen before either.

Now I was scared. I was scared of what was on the other side. I had been in most of the doors in this house at least once. This was a new door. One I had never been through in reality or in my hallucinations. It seems the only things I could keep my focus on was this door and the two brown packages that were perfectly placed in the middle of the hallway. I was so focused on the first package with Hectors hand and cell phone in it, I did not pay attention the fact that there was another package with the same brown, cardboard, manila colored wrapping paper.

Something crawled out of the second package. I jumped, no longer doubting this being real or another hallucination. I was not able to make out what it was that jumped out of the package as it disappeared rather quickly. I paused and looked around. Was this a hallucination? There was no way to really tell. Either way, all of this was more than I had ever experienced together. I wanted all of this to be over.

I opened my eyes-

I jumped. It was right in front of me. It was me. I, was right in front of me. A complete, copy of myself was standing right in front of me. Just staring at me, not saying a word. Not even looking as if this version of me was breathing. I blink again trying to make it go away. Every time I open my eyes, I am still staring at myself. I am getting smaller and the other version of me is getting bigger and bigger. Feels like hours pass.

It is completely night. I can hear the crickets outside. I am alone in the dark. I open my eyes again. This time I am staring down into the basement, not sure of how I got in this position, nor do I know where that copy of myself is. I get another eerie feeling as I am looking into the blackness of the basement doorway. Maybe there's nothing there. Maybe there are live monsters that have been waiting for me to join them for too long.

I know this isn’t my darkest moment. I would know when it was, because I would feel it. Like I felt everything. I hear a loud "Flicker" sound. I look over towards the living room and notice two odd things. One, there is now a television in the living room. The second thing I notice is that this is not my living room and the television is now on.

I looked at the static on the television. Soon there are images. Images of my daughter. More and more of them started to appear. Each image fizzles out and there is nothing. This seemed to last for a short period of time. "Szzt" goes the television. The TV cut off. As I sat there on my knees staring at the televisions black screen, I noticed there was someone behind me. Panic setting back in, I slowly look behind me. I jumped back as the thing standing behind me did not startle me. What startled me, was it was my daughter standing behind me with her arms stretched out. The figure was not my daughter entirely. The clothes, hair, and jewelry were my daughters, but the face was deformed. I scooted even further back away from this images grasping range. The image shouted in a raspy, kind of creepy voice "GIVE ME THE PACKAGE!". All ideas that I had of this being my dear Sarah went out the window. The voice was dark and disoriented. Not my daughter Sarah's sweet and almost whisper sounding voice.

Fear crept all the way in now. I look all around, left to right, surveying this new area I have found myself in. It is all coming back to me now. I am in my old house. The house I had my family in. My wife and my daughter helped pick out this house. They loved the French doors that led to the kitchen and living room. Living room I think. I remember this house did have a patio door off the living room. I look straight ahead, into the eyes of the deformed copy cat of my daughter. The eyes are still empty. I look to the left of me where I had the packages and the phone. They are still there. I push off with my knees and I grab the phone and the package. I make my way through the living room towards the patio door. I hear a heavy tapping sound on the window. I turn towards the window and I see a hand pounding on the window. The hand pounds again, this time cracking the window. I was scared, and could feel the heat on the back of my neck like breath. I make it to the patio door and I take one more final look around. The monster was gone. Nowhere to be seen.

As I am trying to open the patio door, I hear something screeching "GIVE IT TO ME!". I am looking everywhere. There was nothing there but I could feel someone or something was watching me. What ever it is, it is getting closer to me, begging for me to give it the package with the brown packing paper. I stop trying to open the patio door, coming to terms with it being locked and slide down onto my knees. With my eyes closed and full of fear I scream "You got what you wanted Hector. I do not want to do this anymore. Just kill me already." After a little while, I opened my eyes, and saw my daughter Sarah. My heart melted. She was as beautiful as she was at her funeral, wearing the same outfit. The white flowery dress that I had chose for her and the earrings her mother had bought her for her last birthday. "Daddy?" said Sarah. "Muffin" I said back just staring at her. Not knowing if this was real or if this was a new hallucination.

"I... I'm scared."

"Is it...is it really you?"

"Yes, daddy. It's me."

I started to cry. I knew this was not my daughter. My daughter died in my arms and had been dead for over a year. I scream angrily at the ceiling "You cannot trick me into giving you what you want". I look back at the image of Sarah and she transformed into the monster. I knew it wasn't her. I looked down at the package as the monster started running full speed at me. My darkest moment. I could no longer endure all of this torture. I was ready to end it all. I grabbed the brown wrapped package and ripped it open. All the fear that was in me had went away. I finally understood why I got this package. I knew what was in it. I didn't have to open it to know. Because I felt it. It was relief. I didn't get my daughter killed. I didn't make her die. It wasn't me who did it. I just tried to help her. And that was all that mattered. I felt...relief. And joy. The monster stopped right in its tracks and then disappeared. He couldn't hurt me. I laughed a little and looked around the living room of my old house. The room started expanding and the wallpaper began to change. The light from outside even started to shine through the window. It felt as if I was overcoming some thing and I just didn't know what it was.

Poof. And just like that, it was done. I open my eyes and I am in my bed. In my new house. Its another day. I sit up on the side of the bed and rub my eyes. I slip my feet into my house shoes and make my way to the bathroom. As I finish using the restroom, I look in the mirror. I tell myself that the dream I just had was the weirdest. As I walk down the hallway towards my room, I kiss my fingers and place the kiss on my daughter and wife's picture I have framed on the end table. As I look down the hallway I notice the entry way into my room is turning into a golden field. The more I make my way into my room, the more my surroundings look like a wheat field. I feel this immense feeling of relief. I no longer felt fear. I knew what I feared. And that was letting my daughter down like I had let her mother down. As the heat of the sun hit my face, I smiled. For the first time in over a year, I smiled.

No longer dreading or being afraid of my hallucinations, I embraced this one and took in all the feelings this one gave me.

I was anew.