Screams and Memories

🌒 The Fracture Begins There’s a moment—right before the break—when reality starts to shimmer. The hum of the refrigerator starts to sound like breathing. Reflections linger. The walls feel like they’re leaning in, like they’re listening. That’s where I am now—caught in that thin, buzzing space between dreams and reality. This morning, I found myself barefoot in the driveway, staring at a package that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. No memory of ordering it. No delivery truck. Just silence. The crunch of gravel beneath my feet was the only sound—stark and sharp against the chill running down my spine. Danny’s voice cut through the haze. “Hey, man, what’s going on?” His eyes flicked to the package… but I knew he saw through it. He waited until Rhett and Val were out of earshot before speaking again, voice barely above a whisper. > “I know what you’re turning into.” The fear in his voice wasn’t for himself. It was for the truth. --- 🩸 What Danny Saw A few weeks ago,...

Monologue They say death is the great unknown. But what of what lingers after? Spirits, echoes of emotion, unfinished business — whatever you call them, they’ve fascinated humanity for millennia. A flicker of light in a darkened hallway. A whisper with no mouth. A shadow with no source. Ghosts are the night’s poetry — tragic, beautiful, terrifying. And in the quiet hours, when the moon casts silver across your walls and your breath feels just a little too loud... it’s hard not to wonder: What if I’m not alone? I’ve always loved the night. The way the moon kisses rooftops. The stillness. The strange comfort in knowing the world has quieted. But recently... that comfort is cracking. Journal Entry Present Day Storyteller Today started oddly. One of my LED candles — the kind you need a remote for — turned on by itself. No buttons pressed. No pets near it. It flickered as if trying to get my attention. That’s not all. A glass that was in the kitchen ended up in the hallway — on its side. No...