Bars

I sat at my window, seeing the world. I hadn't been out for a while, and I was developing Stir Crazy. Feeling stuffy and craving the outside, I opened the window to hear a bird chirping outside. Some people down the street were talking, and I felt... well, happy. It was about 11 A.M., sometime in July if I remember correctly (which isn't easy). I can estimate that was about 3 years ago give or take a month or two. I heard a ping come from my computer, so I swung my chair around and saw it was a message from Facebook (which I had forgotten I left on). There was a glare over it so I turned around and shut the curtain, annoyed by nature's ability to interrupt in the most unpleasant time. With the curtains drawn I saw it was from my friend Tim. I can't quite remember what it said, but it was something about a new TV he got. I wrote back something like "sweet" or "kewl" but I'm not quite sure at this point. Bored, I decided to open the door and *gasp* walk outside. The street was full of people playing basketball at my neighbor's house, a warm summer breeze wafted toward me from downtown. As I walked toward 12th street, hoping to find something to do, I heard a voice I didn't recognize.

"Going anywhere, Luis?", it said, it's voice calm and strong, yet with a hint of terror that I couldn't quite identify.

"Who is this?", I asked, turning around to see the same old Oak Court. There was no response. I decided in my mind it must have been a trick of my mind, after all I hadn't been outside for at least half a week (it being Summer Break and all).

I reached 12th street and sat on the nice high curb, thinking about not much and enjoying the one month of the year when I can go outside in short sleeves. It slowly dawned on me that I didn't have my cell phone, and since at the time I really wanted to be able to see if one of my friends wanted to hang out, I decided to turn back and get it. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

I got to Oak Court, as soon as I turned on to it, I heard a sound. It was like the sound of hurried footsteps, but many hurried footsteps. It sounded... distant, I hate to use a cliche, but it sounded downright ghostly! As I got closer to my house, and even more distant sound appeared, like a siren, but so distant that It could've been across town. Henryberg had a very small crime rate, and I just couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. The sourceless sounds was one thing, but a feeling of dread was now covering my whole body. As soon as I got onto the property of 1263, my beloved home, I fast walked inside. The second I got inside, I felt a terrible pain, as if I had just ran a marathon, my head was pounding as well. I grabbed my cell phone, lying on my computer desk. I noticed that my computer seemed to have turned off even though I had left it on. At this point, though, I was so exhausted I barely thought about it. I flipped open my phone and checked the time. I don't remember exactly, but it was only 3 minutes after when I checked my computer, which was odd seeing as I felt like I had sat on that curb for at least 15 minutes. A feeling of exhaustion suddenly overtook my whole body, and I blacked out.

I awoke. I couldn't see anything, everything I heard was as ghostly as the footsteps were. I heard the distant sound of buzzes, and beeps, and screaming, the sound alone was enough to rattle my nerves. Feel was my only reliable sense. I was definitely on something cold. Probably stone. From feeling around I felt I was in a stone room roughly 10x10x>7 feet (I can't tell the last one because I can only reach roughly 7 feet in the air). One side of the room was not stone, it was stone from the edges to 1 foot from the center, the 1 foot in the center was some metal, with a 1x2 foot hole with iron bars at 4 feet up, and a rectangular periferation 2 feet from the floor that was the same dimensions as the hole. I could draw from this conclusion that it was a door. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was some test subject, some animal.

Hours must've gone by. I heard a distant, but very loud buzz, and then a shifting sound. Then, by smell (which I detected nothing until that moment) guided me towards what I assumed was the door, and the pereferation was now a tray, with some paste. The paste smelled okay, so I tried to eat some. It tasted like cold gruel, with a hint of maybe cinnamon. I choked it down, and then tried to sleep.

That's how every day has gone since then.

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The horror began at 3:07 AM on Wednesday July 18th 2009. Gunshots sounded inside the Jones' residence. The boy, Luis, walked out of the house, soaked in blood. A brave neighbor tried to ask what happened, but got no coherent response. Allegedly the boy walked through the neighborhood, threatening to shoot, and indeed shooting, most people he saw. He paused and sat on the curb on 12th Street for roughly 1 minute before he sprinted back to his house. The police were there, and the boy outran them, getting shot many times but still surviving. He was discovered passed out and almost dead in his house shortly after. His parents were laying dead in their bed, shot roughly 3 times each point blank in the head. The boy was taken to Henryberg Asylum where he remains to this day.

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I heard a bang, the first coherent noise I had heard for years. I turned in it's direction, and suddenly, as if by some lovely miracle, I could see. It came like a blast of cold air. I was in a field, surrounded by my loved ones. I was finally free from whatever hell I had just endured. My mother was there, "Luis, you're finally awake! You've been passed out for so long, you were making horrible noises in your sleep!" she said, full of joy like always.

I'll never forget that hell. It was the worst experience ever. I live in a beautiful house, in a beautiful town, with nice,caring people. Only thing is, every now and again, I hear a very, very distant buzz, or sometimes screams, or occasionally, my own name.