Madness

1. Prologue

Without warning, everything shut off. It took me a second to realise it --power had gone out. Wow, I thought. Definately didn't see that coming.
I sometimes didnt know why people treasured life so much. You basically live through a suckish existence and wind up dying in the end. It's guaranteed. But whenever those type of life-hating thoughts entered my head, something would tell me, it's worth living, either way. I didn't exactly believe that, half the time.

The house was empty, except for me, --mom being at work, and me being an only child.
  I stood up from the couch where I had previously been watching nothing interesting on TV and sighed as I lazily shuffled to the window and pulled open the blinds. Afternoon sunlight flooded the room. Great. Mom couldn't pay the electric bill, and she didnt tell me. Not that telling me would help at all, but a heads up would be nice once in a while, or ever, for that matter.

Ah, mom...she was often forgetful and overworked --an airhead at times, so I couldn't be mad at her. But even this was unlike her. Her job paid well; she should've had no problem dishing out enough cash to take care of the bills. Maybe it had slipped her mind?
My cellular phone vibrated in my pocket. It was now so quiet in the house that I whispered as I answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Autumn," I heard a familiar raspy voice respond. It was Geoffrey. That itself caught me off guard. Today was just full of horrible little surprises.

"Jeff. You have my cell number?" I replied.

"Im coming over."

"What? Why?"

  Jeff lived across the street from me. Since the day he and his family had moved in, he'd always scared the crap out of me. And don't get me wrong. It was a completely rational fear.

"Your power just went out. Im coming over."

"Heck no, Jeff," I said, starting to feel panicked. "You stay over there. I'll call the cops, I mean it."

That rapist. Well, he hadnt actually raped anyone -not that I knew of at least- but he seemed to be the type of person inclined towards such a thing. I checked the front and back doors to make sure they were locked up tight.

"You dont have to freak," Jeff's voice answered. "We always have fun, you know that."

"Yeah right," my voice trembled slightly. I was confused. Jeff hadn't wanted to come over in the longest time. And what did my electricity being out have to do with anything?

"Arent we friends?" Jeff asked softly.

No. "Yes."

"And dont you get lonely over there when your mom's at work?" he hinted.

Yes. "No."

"Yes you do. Hey. Go look out your window."

I cautiously went to a window and peered through the glass toward the other side of the road.
  Jeff sat on the steps in front of his house, holding a cordless phone. He waved and smiled in that friendly way that often confused me, then spoke into the phone.
"
You look pretty today. I'll be over in a sec." he stood up and put the phone down on the steps. The compliment had heat creeping into my face in the midst of my horror, but the horror quickly overtook all else.
See, Jeff was actually a nice guy. He seemed like it, anyway. He was "sweet" and "thoughtful" and, occasionally, "generous". But he was also psychotic. Completely insane. To the point where I wondered why his family members were all still alive and well. But Jeff's mental instability was not his most terrifying quality. I sank to the carpet and ran my hands through my hair as I often did when frustrated as Geoffrey crossed the street and reached my front door.

  ~```~
         He always sounded like a stalker, that low and creepy way he had of talking, so it didn't surprise me when Jeff mentioned how he'd been watching me for the last few days. Surprise me? No. Bother me? Yes, definately.
We had been just hanging out, conversing while sitting on my living room couch. We'd found razor blades somewhere around --I forgot where-- so we'd been cutting ourselves for the past hour or two as we talked. I had quickly run out of space on my arms, so I decided to call it a day.

"You were right," I smiled at Jeff, wiping the tears from my face. "We are having fun."
Razor blades hurt. But in a good way.
 
It was a funny thing, whenever Jeff came over. I always found myself doing things I wouldn't even think about doing otherwise. Things I usually considered, well...insane.
 
I had let him in like I always do --reluctantly. I obviously hadn't wanted to, but I was afraid, as always, of what he might do if I didn't. He'd made eye contact with me at the door, and suddenly, I was happy to see him. He was, after all, gorgeous. Spiky dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and the nicest smile. Plus that perfect posture. There was just something about a guy that stood up completely straight that was so... I don't know, attractive. In an ocean of slouching, almost hunch-backed people his age --me being one of them, unfortunately,-- there he was, tall and beautiful --when sitting as well as standing. But, I'm sorry. Let's get back to the point.

As Jeff had entered the house, I suddenly took a new mental perspective on everything. I realised that the house looked strange. Weird. Funny, because it hadn't a second before. Jeff and I took turns kicking over chairs and opening closet doors till the place looked normal again. I had also finally understood Jeff's reason for coming over. My power went out. How could he have made it any more clear?

"You were spying on me, huh?" I watched the crimson liquid run down my arms. Such a nice color.

"Yeah. I couldn't help it." he was still busy hacking himself up, cutting complete three-sixties encircling his arms.

The stalking bothered me, yes, but not in a way it would have before Jeff had come over. It bothered me not that he was watching, but that I didn't know he was watching. I disliked being unaware of things, if they involved me.

Jeff seemed to read my thoughts.
"You don't like me watching you?" he looked up from his cutting to stare at me.

"Just let me know next time, kay?" I met his gaze and tryed to read his mind like he'd read mine.

"Your.....about to leave," I tried, "Don't."
He stood up from the couch anyway. My mind reading ability was impressive.

"I miss Sarah."

"Your sister?" I asked and he nodded. The seething anger was immediate. Why didn't I have a sister? It all suddenly seemed so unfair. Some kind of conspiracy. I reached over to slap the lamp off the table next to me in my rage, but Jeff caught my hand.

"That's my favorite lamp, " he said quietly. " I like seeing it on the table."

"Fine," I pulled my bloody arm back, "But dont leave." He wasnt listening. I followed him to my front door and he opened it. Outside, the sun had just set beautifully over the horizon. He turned around to me.

"It's likely I'll be watching you leave for school tommorow morning."

I smiled. "Thanks for telling me."

He moved as if to leave, but then glanced back at me. "Hey.You think we could go out sometime? Like a movie or something?"

I blinked surprisedly. "Uh, sure. Of course."

He turned once again and walked across the street as I closed the door.
I sighed happily and smiled a full three seconds before sanity finally came crashing down on me.

~```~
         "Owww..." I moaned, searching Mom's bathroom cabinets for bandages or gauze or anything to stop the bleeding. I was feeling lightheaded and the pain was unrelentless, coming from what seemed like a hundred different sources on my arms. I hadn't been able to look at them directly in my right mind, for fear of hyperventalating at the sight --though the memory of me actually cutting them was pretty much enough to do the job.
I had known what would happen. It was all part of the Oh-Dear-Lord-Jeff's-Coming-Over cycle. It was like a routine, a pattern, the same thing happens time after time.

Jeff arrives, I go temporarily insane, we do a whole bunch of crazy-people things together, Jeff leaves, and I instantly come back to my senses.
It was terrifiying, like he would literally infect me with his mental illness. I was baffled and confused for days the first time it had happened. But, of course, after some time I went into denial, thinking, just maybe, I had imagined the whole thing. Maybe my new neighbor was just one of those, weird, missunderstood types. Maybe we hadn't set that old, abandoned barn on fire. But then, he'd come over again. And a third time. And today was the fourth. He kept finding random, nonsensical reasons to show up at my door and there was nothing I could do. I didn't know what to do. Nothing made sense. Things like transmitting insanity weren't possible. Weren't supposed to be possible, anyway.
When he showed up, I went mental. Period.

"Crap," I muttered, when I realised Mom would be home soon. I got frantic, searching floor cabinets and drawers recklessly until I found a roll of clean, white gauze. I stood up too quickly and the room spun. It must've been the blood, I was losing too much. My arms were soaked and I could feel them dripping. I tried not to stain the carpet as I soaked a washcloth in warm water from the sink. I have to look at my arms now, I told myself feebly. There was no other way to clean effectively. I hesitated, then forced my gaze to the bloodied limbs, and began washing off the sticky, red liquid. I felt dizzier just looking at it.
The washcloth stung the multiple cuts as I weakly moved it up and down, slower and slower until my other arm refused to move it another inch. I cleaned the remaining arm the same way. My vision focused and unfocused.

"Crap," My voice sounded lost in my head, "Don't...Don't pass out...."

But it was no use, unfortunately. I couldn't help but feel powerless as conciousness and I, old and faithful friends, parted ways. It's worth living, the voice said. Shut up, I told it.