Strays of paper lay on the maroon carpet, covering it in a frenzy of blotched black letters, each more sinister and uglier than the other. I lay still like an island surrounded by a yellow sea of shattered notes, it's black waves crashing at my feet.

The television buzzed incessantly at a corner, it's jingling static providing the only vial of light in the darkened room. I lay motionless, staring at it with my bloodshot red eyes.

Three loud bangs. The grandfather clock roared a three o'clock.
My eyes were now feeling droopy. I felt my pupils enlarge and shrink, dilate and constrict in a monotonous rhythm. My heartbeat slowed to a baby crawl. My stomach wailed like one.

Smack. I slapped myself sharply. " Keep awake. No sleeping today. Have to catch the entity that scribbles every morning. Puts note on my fridge. Mocks my insecurities. Cruel! Delusional! Greedy! Envy! Liar! Ugly! Fake! No more! Today. Will catch the night monger. Bastard! Dares to churn a famed actor's soul. For what? Mere sadistic entertainment. Torture. Every. Single. Day. No more! Not today! Not ever!" I chanted, repeating the threats like a prayer." No more! Not today! Not ever!"

But soon my thoughts were laid to rest as the buzzing of the tv slowly grew louder and the blacks of the static shook and glitched. A band of vibgyor sinisterly moved from the bottom to the top before disappearing and reappearing at the bottom of the screen, moving up with an increased tempo. As the minutes increased, so did the speed. Faster. Faster. Until. Until the screen turned white.

I kept staring at the glaring bright light, confused and scattered. A few moments of hesitation and I cautiously leaned forward, spreading my hand on the glowering glass, it's heat searing my palm, scorching my veins. Then, a hiss. A creak, a crack. And with a loud bang, the screen turned black.

"What the-" was all I could manage to summon; when it broke with a magnitude that threw me away.

I screamed in pain as stings and bites burned my skin. Bites and stings from flies and bugs that flew out of the smoked set. Bzzz. I tried to get up but couldn't. The pangs were too much.

"Fine", I shouted, " Fine I would go to sleep, I wouldn't catch you, just stop", I started whimpering and pleading, tired of it all, "just stop. Please."

Thin filaments of white peaked from the curtains, condemning me to open my eyes. It was morning.

A sudden flash of last night jolted me up and I looked around at the trashed room. The television set lay smashed and broken, the clock had its bong missing, and a knife lay at the corner. But other than that, the room was clean, awfully clean.

I kept looking around, hoping to find meaning somewhere, a reason for yesternight, and then, my eyes went wide. I grappled my way on all fours through the clean floor, towards the refrigerator. I squinted at its metal door, making sure I weren't seeing things. I wasn't. The door had no note. Nothing.

"Does this - does this mean, " I stuttered to myself, a smile grasping my face, " Does this mean that, that I - I won?"
I leapt in joy, dancing at my victory, " I won! I won!"

I singled towards the curtain and pulled it away with a laugh. And then. And then a scream. A deep, rattling scream. Of dread. Despair. Fear.

The window. It was scratched up in letters. I looked down at the floor where it reflection fell and grabbed my mouth in shock.
'YOU THE MURDERER!'
The shadow read.

"No!" I walked, tumbling down, receding to a corner. I looked at my hands and covered my face. "No, no it can't be." I sobbed.

"Brother, " A known voice echoed in my head, " I may not be qualified as the therapists who claim it's your imagination, but all these murders you dream, they all have had happened. I should get you arrested, but we share the same blood so I would give you one last chance. Try to confront this alternate ego of yours, win over it, kill it, and then, maybe if all stops. And I promise: we would never, ever speak of it again..."

"No please no, " I rocked my body, crying sniffling, grabbing my hair, pulling them, all the while pleading to myself, "No. No please no."
Slowly my hands moved towards the knife that lay near me, picking it up and curling my finger at its wooden handle. I looked at my sorry self in the blade and I knew I would never be able to suppress the evil inside me. So what now? I looked out the red-stained window, and with a quick shove, jammed the metal shard in my throat.