I want it painted black

Sadly everyone sleeps. Sleeping for me is different, I have the same fucked up, revolting dream everytime my eyes shut for the night. Or day, or well... yeah, all day, and all night. When I wake up im sweating like a rabid dog and that is when I start drinking. I drink non-stop too keep my mind off all of those s****y night terrors, the same morbid, omnious looking thing in which I think is a woman staring back at me. And me running, and running away, too only turn the corner to be trapped by an entity so malevolent, it makes my stomach churn and I throw up all my all-ready drank 3 shots of Smirnoff.
"What the f**k dude!" Says Chris, my buddy from highschool. "Its only 8:45 and you're f*****g throwing up all over the place!"
"Sorry." I say non-remorsefully, and commence drinking more, trying to keep my head off that rotten, degrading thing of my dreams. "I'll clean it up. Its just..." Looking at him with terror of the sickening remembrance of it.
"Is it the dead b***h from your dreams again?" Asked Chris mindfully.
"Yes, I f*****g wish it would go away!" I said bothered but i had the thousand yard stare.
"Ok... Well watch some cartoons or some s**t, I'm going to the store. Want anything?" I said no and he walked out the door of our apartment. Sometimes i wish i could go live with my parents. I miss my mothers soft touch on my forehead and a kiss that led shortly thereafter. It depresses me knowing the fact i can't move back in and even if i could i wouldnt for Chris's sake. I love him like a brother.
Shortly after Chris left I started too get all woozy and my vision became a blur. I started to slip into the unrelenting realm of darkness. The realm inside my head, the dark, dark hell of my being.
Running. Running. Im running in the pitch-black. I cannot see anything. Im breathing hard and i feel my feet slamming on the floor as loud and acoustic as if i was tap dancing on stage. Then there is a light. I see it. Im getting closer. Its a hallway. I enter and walk slowly into the inner bowels of the hallway. The walls are brick, and red, and they feel rough and crisp. My heart is jumping on a trampoline that wont let it escape. Its jumping up into my throat and i can feel my pulse. There is a left turn up ahead. I glance back at the entrance and a black door slowly creeps shut and then. The exit is gone. No escape. I glance back at the corner in the hallway, which is five feet ahead of me.
I know what will happen, this is the part i dread. The part i want too forget. I can't stop myself but i'm looking through my eyes. I swear i can see the veins pulsing through my iris. I turn around the corner, all the lights turn off.
I smell a rancid smell like spoiled organtic left-overs. I know its her. She is right behind me, i stop cold, fear running down my spine, i start sweating and i hear her say "Paint it black"
I look back too see her smiling that wicked brown toothed smile, too much lipstick, and old wrinkles on her very masculine face.
I don't move. I cant and she reaches out a hand too me and places it on my shoulder. And shakes!
"Wake up Wolf! You were talking in your sleep. I leave for five minutes and your f*****g asleep! I think you need help." Says Chris.
I look up at him still sweaty and trembling like a crack head with minor withdrawls. "What was i saying?" I asked him nervously.
He looked up at me grimly. Then he said it. "Paint it black my boy, paint it black

Chris is gone. His blood gushed out of his neck like a crimson Niagra Falls. I loved it. I loved him! Mother made me do it, i follow mother. She saved me from alcoholism, drug addiction and a depressing f*****g life. Mother is inside me, the glorious purge changed me. I have beem staring into this oval mirror with fascination. Smilimg into it with delight and adoration, seeing the reflection of marroon and pink mist all over my 3-D canvas box, his bedroom.
Paint it black.
I know i must hide who i am. Noone can find out Chris is dead. No one knew he lived here. I got lucky on this one. I got a free ticket to let out all of my bloodthirst and enjoy life. Im glad Mother made me do it. Im free now, im free to be myself. What will i do with his body?
Paint it black.
I pick up the paint and look at my watch, 9:04 am. Exactly four minutes after Chris woke me up yesterday. I miss him.
No i dont.
Yes i do!
Paint it black my boy, paint it black.
I follow orders like the good Mother told me.
The first stroke, is slow and memorable as i slide the jet-black brush on the wall conceiling Chris's delicious, once vascular liquids. This made me whole. Mother forgives, Mother is graceous.
Paint it black.
The second stroke. Why am i doing this? I think to myself?
Paint it black i say back in my head.
I must. I do, and when the whole room is painted over and black with one stroke left and Chris's corpse lie on the bed with the hole in his stomach where i used my hands rip out his innards like cleaning a big catfish. It smells like iron and rotting meat. I like it. It leaves a certain tingle in my nose and his blood had a nice zing to it when i tasted it after my teeth penetrated his delicate neck skin.
I start the final stroke.
I remember. I remember walking down the hall. Seeing a right turn and a lightswitch just before. I turned it off, and heard breathing. Scared breathing. I saw the back of a head. It swiveled around very slowly, cautiously. I smiled and reached out.
With the last stroke done, and darkness covering the ground and walls and consuming my good friend i am happy. I pour gas all over the room and walk to the doorway, i turn back to look at the room, there is pitch black except a mirror on the other side of the room, hanging on the wall. That mirror will be the only one with the memory of what is about to happen other than me and mother. I flip open my zippo, spark it, and let it drop.
Before i turn to walk out, i watch the black room go ablaze, mothers delighted. I look into the mirror. I see mother smiling with those brown teeth, and too much lipstick. She is pleased and so am i. I walk out of the room.
I am mother.

As i stepped out of the apartment and inhaled a clean, crisp lung-full of air, i continued walking down the side walk that lead up to my prison. The apartment i had been confined too, and it felt like a decade of wasted time. I hadnt left for atleast a month. But now mother let me free.
Mother has set me free. I love her.
Then i heard it for the first time. A shrill, non-stop beep that engulfed my thoughts and i held my ears shut but it wouldnt go away.
Beeeeeeeep
Mother is here for you. You will be ok.
I believe mother, she saved me.
I walk to the end of the side walk and look back in pride as i watch people being smoked out of their homes like primitive rodents running away from their holes in a forest fire. I enjoy the view and i see a fire-truck pull up in front of the apartment. I know that they will not stop the fire. I know that it is too far gone, by the end of the night the apartment will be reduced to smoldering coals. Black. Pure.
I turn the corner and keep walking. I see fire trucks passing, i hear the sirens, however i dont pivot my head too see where they are going. I already know. I have a grin so big and malevolent it could compair to the Jokers artificial one.
I see a covenient store. "How convenient" i say aloud as i cross the wet, damp street. I enter the store. Jingling bells go off to notify the workers i was there. The air smells like spilled soda and Syrup that had became conjoined to the counter. That sticky f*****g mess. One reason why i never left the apartment. I walk in front of the counter and see a shrimpy chinese kid who was working the last time i was in here. He ripped me off. God damn i hate people. So f*****g cheap as too not give me my six cents. Well ill give him his.
"Hello sir, how may i help you?"
"Im fine, thank you" i said with that fake smile you show people when you just dont give a s**t and really hate their guts.
Guts. Reminds me. I still have blood under my fingernails and on my hands. Good thing my hands are in my pocket. It really is futile keeping them conceiled. He will be dead in thirty seconds anyways.
I strole up to him and lay my hands on the counter.
"Mā de!" He said as his eyes grew large with terror. "Do you need help?"
"Shut the hell up and sit down in your stool!" He didnt. He crept twords the little swivel door on the other side of the regester. "Now!" I yelled.
"Wô shì wúgū de! Im innocent! Please dont hurt me!" He screamed
"Sit down whiny b***h."
He sits down and reaches under the counter for something.
Beeeeeeep. That Godforsaken scream of a noise again followed by mothers scream.
Be careful!
I see him pull out a sawed-off shotgun from under and with viper reflexes i grab his head and slam his head onto the lottery ticket case. His head retracts back and he is dead. Still sitting in the chair. Shotgun in hand, and blood trickling down his yellow face in molasses colored blood.
"Someone got lucky" thinking of the lottery tickets just below the cracked and bloodied case i used to emplode his face in on. "At least you got it better than Chris" i said as i walked to the door and pulled six cents out of a jar for kids with illnesses. That is what i am after all. Just a kid with an illness. Just a big bad black illness.
Once more, i walk back out into the cool, crisp air.

Tap tap tap. I rapped on my old front door. No one answered so i placed my left ear on to the old oak. I was forced to gaze to the right because of my current position, seeing my mom's f*****g Christmas decor scattered alongside and grappling onto the walls of my childhood house. I heard nothing, so i inhaled deeply as i proceeded to search for the hidden key that i knew my mother kept hidden.
After checking for a solid two minutes i found the key inside the little battery door on the back of the light up snow man, on the front poarch. "Home sweet home" i said as i started to unlock the abyss of my origins. Then.
"Oh! Hello Wolfie! I havn't seen you around in a while, hows college?"
"It's great Mrs. Weiss! Just coming to visit for the holidays!" I said roaring with laughter inside my head, the woman didn't even know i lived on the other side of town for three straight years. The sad thing is.. My parents didn't either. And they werent expecting me.
"Do you know when they will be returning?" I said
"Well, before i left the house thirty or so minutes ago, i saw your mother and father leaving the house. Said they were headed for the big city, they ought to be back tomorrow your mother said."
"Thank you ma'am. She didn't specify that on the phone when i called."
"I don't reckon she did." Mrs. Weiss replied suspiciously "Well nice chatin Wolf, but i gotta pick up Larry for Bingo with me and the girls. He doesnt leave the house too often anymore. Gotta take the man out to do something. Goodnight Wolf."
I watched her prance up her side walk to her house and walk in. I was stuck with all the thoughts of my 11th grade history teacher Mr. Larry Weiss, who just so happened to be my neighbor. All old and sick now. He smoked way too much and i remember him coughing every five words when he thought i "graduated". I never graduated. I got the school to let me walk because i promised to take summer classes. I never did and no one knew i didn't graduate. They all thought i went off to college. Except Chris.
Beeeeeeep
Hey! You can pull through it! Said mother.
I will mother i said in my head.
I couldn't help but wonder if Mr. Weiss ever found out the truth.
I walk into my antique house, everything still in mint condition, the now revolting smell of laundry detergent and candels my mother always liked, once warm and welcoming but now tainted by the fucked up memories; lingered in the air. The atmosphere, like im living a dream, reality however. I have a job to to.
I walked down the spacious hallway littered with pictures of my moms two dogs, and statues of the same breed everywhere visible. When i reach the end of the hallway there is a left turn and stairs that lead to the basement. I turn the corner nonchalantly and i hear a faint boof. Then the lights flicker off and it is darker than before. There is a lightswitch right at the top of the wooden basement stairs.
I open the basement door and a gust of cold air rushed out and into my face. Something was rotting in the basement. I crept onto the first step and flipped on the light.
Terror rushed over me. Piss trickled down my leg. She was smiling at me. Looking into my eyes from only two inches away. It was a wicked, wicked evil smile. "You painted it black my boy, remember?" Then she stepped to the side and i startted walking down the stairs against my will. I wanted to run, but i couldn't i walked past her and i felt her all white eyes stairing and her fingers lightly running across my neck making me feel uneasy. Her eyes were on me and her fingers were running on my neck still but i couldnt move or run, just walk down the stairs and do as she was controlling me to do like she was a puppet master and i was a puppet.
"Hmmm? What was that?" She said as if she read my mind. "Oh! Yes! I forgot. I am the puppet master. I got you here and i'm in complete controll of you. She said in a mans voice.
Larry's voice.

I love my life. The crimson rose peddles dancing, swirling so vividly round and round in the old mans eye. Larry was a role model, but now his final agenda perplexed me to the point of no remaining rationality. I hated him and wish i was never born. I am the beginning and the end. I am the rabid, misfit guinea pig of Mr. Larry.
He knew i didn't graduate. This was his plan all along. And now as he stare at me with sick, twisted delight. My stomach churning and crenging at how gullible i was to trust this man. He tells me "You are a very important young man." He says smiling down at me with supremicy, as i sit with reluctant obediance on the stairs.
"Why me?" I ask pissed off.
"I will explain my son. Do you want to hear a story?"
"F**k it. Knock yourself out old man"
" i take that as a yes" he replied carefully and not really giving a f**k what i reply back to him.
"Yes, its a yes. Just say something that means sense."
"Indeed i will." A few second pause.. Then " did you ever know your grandfather, wolf?"
"No, i didnt." I said matteroffactly.
"I know you didn't." He replied and this caught my attention. "Because i killed him."
"Your full of s**t!" I said, now horrified with awe.
"No, your grandfather cursed your family." " it was a hot summers day in 1962... We were nine at the time, your grandfather and me. One day your grandfather, richard, and me were playing a game of football with our friends, and you know. Like boys do, we became a little bit roudy and competitive. This got to the point of fist fighting and your grandfather punched my kid brother in the heart. It stopped cold and i vowed to your grandfather i was going to kill him."
"Well.. What happened?" I asked imbedded into his story.
"I killed him." " i waited until his twenty first birthday, and he was out at the bar with his friends. I saw him drunkenly waltz past the pool tables and into the restroom. I followed, and when i swung open the sticker filled swing-door i reard retching and then. Dry heaving, coming out of one of the stalls. Ol' Richie came out of the stall, singing and compleatly helpless with comit on stubble chin and shirt singing 'i see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes...' That song by the Rolling Stones. I said. 'Hey Richie' and smiled, he started crying and before he could say anything. I slid a blade into his heart and walked out, happy about my discreet revenge"
"Wow.." I said before interrupted.
"There was only one problem. He had a son.. Your dad."
"Why didnt you just kill my dad you sadistic f**k!"
He pulled out a picture from his wallet, a poloroid. "Look familiar?" he asked.
"Is that me?" I said pointing to the kid on the far right of three kids with little league bats and gloves in their uniforms.
"No, thats your grandfather. You look just like him, and now your going to do my dirty work."
Beeeeeeep
White lights. Blurry, bright bright lights.
"He's awake says Chris!"
"Praise the Lord Jesus. Halleluja "says my mom.
"Hey buddy, welcome back." Says my dad
Things start to focus in but hurt my eyes. A doctor walks in the all white hospital room.
"Hello sir, it is good to see that your recovering. It appears you had liver failure and internal bleeding of the stomach and liver. You were out for a solid two days. Luckally your friend... Chase? No, Chris found you on time or else you would be dead this time two days ago."
"Thanks buddy." I croaked through a dry mouth and throat.
A nurse walks in. "Sir, you have another visitor."
"Who is it?" Asked my dad bluntly.
"A man named Larry Weiss."
"Oh! Larry! Bring him in, im sure Wolf wants to see him" says my mom who grew very fond of him through my highschool carreer.
"Sure thing" says the nurse, and in walks in Mr. Weiss.
"Hey Wolfie!" He says very happy and excited to see me. He clutches my left hand and i feel something slip in. Then he comes down to my ear and whispers. "Am I mother? Or are you? He says grimly.
I know what i must do but i accept it. The puppet master always controlls his puppet.
Mr. Weiss says to my close ones. "I hope he feels better soon!" As he walks out and i hear the door chlick and lock behind him.
"Dad. Come here." I say softly with a raspy voice. He leans down so i can whisper in his ear. Heat radiates off his soft delicate skin. I feel true, real power rushing through my veins.
"I am the alpha and omega." I say and penetrate my fathers ribcage with a black, cold icepick.
My family stares in awe for a few seconds as they regester what just happened. Yhen they rush to a locked black door.