The man in the dark + The listener

Both stories include implied schizophrenia and story two also includes themes of suicide. If that is triggering I suggest clicking off this post, thank you!

The first story is called "The Man in the Dark" -

      They try to convince themselves they’re safe, but the eerie feeling doesn’t leave them. That feeling that they're not alone. “I think someone’s watching us.” he finally says. The hairs on the back of her neck stick up. She looks around, checking for a sign of life. Nothing. “I don’t think so,” she says unsure. He continues looking around frantically, and the voice in his head screams louder. No no no! She’s lying. She’s in on it. I saw him. He looks back at her shaking his head. She seems scared but not of the man in the dark. She takes a step back toward the man. He leaps toward her and pulls her away, and she pulls off of him and runs to the man. She’s running. She’s going to get hurt if she leaves. Help her. He runs into the darkness, past the man who follows. The dark halls echo the sound of their footsteps against the hard tile, it’s only odd because last he checked they were outside. “This is getting weird.” He calls after her “Let’s turn back! Please!” his pleading voice fades as she shrinks in the distance.

      She gets farther away, her image becoming more morphed in his vision. Her face was a distant memory, her smile nonexistent like a ghost haunting his mind. Too many thoughts fill him. Kill her. Save her. Keep running. Turn around. Let him kill you. Fight back. He can’t decide which to listen to so he just follows her into the dark. Out a door under the moonlight, it feels so familiar. He looks around but she's gone. He lost her. Was she even there to begin with? He turns around to find the man standing in the doorway. He’s real. He has to be, right? Maybe not. “You’re just in my head!” he screams. The man tilts his head mockingly like a dog waiting for a bite. The man takes a step closer. Fuck. He moves through the grass under the light of the moon. Fuck! He stands in front of him. Fuck fuck fuck!! He holds out a hand to him. Fu– wait… what? “Are you okay?” he says “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” he backs up, but the man doesn’t move. “It’s alright. Everything’s going to be okay, son. You’re safe. Let’s go inside, Felix.”

The second story is called "The Listener" -

      “Someone’s listening.” the uninvited thought storms into her mind like the voices of her peers. She tries to tell herself she’s being paranoid. She tries to tell herself it’s all a lie. She stares into the void of the water under her, her reflection distorted just the way she likes to see it. She convinces herself no one is there but the rustling behind her harms her thoughts. Breaking down the barrier of safety she had built to protect herself, her body a temple about to collapse as she stands, stuttering and shaking. The wind is cold against her pale skin and her blood hair dances with it. The voices, the rustling in the bushes, the whispers, groans, mumbles. “It’s just the wind. The music in the air, in my mind” she pleads with the pain to be gone. Her voice coming from every direction. The silence so deafening in her head, that she can feel the presence. “I’m just being dramatic.” The insults begin to fill “I’m such an idiot, nothing’s there. What’s wrong with me? I’m so fucking dramatic.” it’s all too much.

      The water below feels more like a promise than a threat, a hope in her dark mind. Something to gravitate towards. She stares down at it waiting for the listener to jump out, to push her, to stop her, to kill her, to help her, anything at all. It’s silent again. The water mocks her as it stares. A sign to give up. Poseidon himself begging her, at least that’s how it seems. She deserves this. “I deserve this.” No one cares about her. “I am worthless.” Why not just do it? The listener will agree. Maybe the listener found the note, maybe the listener is no more than an audience waiting impatiently for the big finale. Perhaps they will be happy when she does it. The distorted image is becoming clearer as the water slowly stills. She hates it. Her reflection. Her. Everything. She smiles. She turns around to the noise, she hopes they’re happy at least. She smiles. She turns. She jumps.