Stalked By A Serial Killer

Chapter Nine: I'm Wearing A Dark Shirt, Right?

Chapter Nine: "I'm Wearing A Dark Shirt, Right?"

I CAN'T SLEEP. It's sometime in the middle of the night, and my conscience's words from earlier are still stuck in my head. Is he actually using me? Is he going to kill me or turn me in when the time comes? Does he actually not care or love me? Does he have cameras hidden throughout the two houses so the feds can monitor everything?

Is this all fake?

Ty's breathing starts to get faster and he groans. I tense up and he turns and looks over at me. "Why are you awake?"

"I can't sleep," I murmur. "I can't."

"What's on your mind, sunshine?"

"The voices. . ." I trail off. Why do I have to suffer this? Whenever I'm stressed and depressed, I get them like the Plague.

"What about them?" He asks. "Are they still going on?"

I open my mouth to say something but close it. How can I word this? Do I just come out with it? Or do I try to say it in a different manner and hope he catches on? "Do. . ." I begin. I breathe heavily, suddenly feeling like I'm suffocating. "Do you. . . love and care about me?"

He furrows his eyebrows together. "Of course I do. What would make you second guess something like that?"

I ignore his question and continue, because I really don't know why. "Are you working for the feds and secretly video taping me and my every move and sending it to them? What are you hiding? You're using me too. You don't want a friendship, I'm just being used as that so you can dig for information. I don't know what, but there's something I got that you want. What is it? And why do you want to kill me? I mean, that's what they've been telling me for the past 12 hours."

He looks as lost as ever right now. Why is he lost? He should know what I'm talking about. That's the thing about what goes on in my brain. Sometimes I switch from reality to fantasy. It's happened a lot before, and I'm very confused on which world I am in right now.

"What are you talking about, Jo?" He questions. "I don't work for the feds at all. I'm not classified for that. Secondly, I am most definitely not using you, sunshine. I don't want to kill you, nor do I have plans to. You're the most important person in my life, I wouldn't jeopardize that! And I thought we both agreed that we could film us sleeping to know why I was getting suspicious marks in the middle of the night."

"But they told me–" I begin to argue, only to be cut off.

"'They aren't real, Jo. They're just in your head; literally. They fish you lies, alright? Nobody is out to get you, and I am not working for the federal government, which you would normally know, since my record isn't the best to look at. They're just wandering thoughts in your head; doubts, really."

"But, they're right sometimes!"

"Yeah, maybe they are, but only sometimes. But if they say anyone is out to get you–especially me or someone you're close to–they're lying. They're trying to make you turn against everyone. You're probably questioning a lot of things, right now, hon."

"You're right," I choke out. Is he right? Are they only in my head? I mean, obviously they're in my head but they're right sometimes. Could the doctors used some type of drug to make me have these thoughts? If they did, how long is this going to go on for?