Under the Rug

This piece is inspired by a picture that I will post with it, and the "caption" of the picture "Is two weeks passed and it happened again" The picture and quote are by Harris Burdick!

You can’t escape, it conquers you. The craziness, the nonstop looniness. People think you are crazy and you can’t deny it. You see things and they disappear right before your unblinking eyes. Under the rug it appears again, you grab a chair in hope that it will scatter. You thrust the chair at that thing. That unknown creature. You miss the table and the lamp next to you topples over. “AGH. go away you stupid, unexplainable creature.”  You exclaim.
A couple of weeks ago your wife would’ve shuffled down the stairs with concern, but she’s long gone. Packed and left with your three children. you agreed you were too crazy to be around people let alone children. When you look back  over at the rug the creature is not there, and there is no evidence it ever was there. The old family pictures on the wall have become crooked from your constant hitting. The mahogany bookcase stops shaking as you stop smacking the ground with your chair. You sigh, will you ever return to your normal state of mind.
Two weeks passed and it happens again. “You again! I will get you this time.” You shout to the thin, empty air. The thrashing begins, your living room starts to look more and more like a dumpster. You’re scared. this creature scares you.
You call doctor after doctor. Psychologist after Psychologist. You beg and plead, but they can’t help you. You’re lost in life. The creature keeps coming, it comes more and more often.  You can’t sleep because you're scared. You can’t think because it’s in your house and you don’t know what it is.  This creature is taking over your life. It’s a locked gate in front of the path you’re taking. This gate is high and impossible to climb or crawl under. And on the other side of this gate is the path to your normality.
You wonder why you are going crazy, you wonder how. “ Why? Why? Why?” You yell through the countless unrested nights.
The one night you do sleep your slumber is filled with nightmares your slumber is filled with nightmares, not normal nightmares with serial killers and paranormal activity, but nightmares where you search. You search for a hidden key to that gate. The key keeps getting farther and farther away until it’s gone. You awake with a shudder. You stroll down the long stairway from your bedroom to the dreaded living room. The creature is there again...under the rug. You stomp where the creature was, but it moves too fast. You keep stomping until again it vanishes. It doesn’t scatter, it just vanishes.
As long as this creature continues to come you will never stop being crazy. You can’t get rid of this creature, it will keep getting bigger. It is a figure of your imagination and it represents your craziness. I am this creature and I would know.

The Uninvited Guests

You hear a noise and you slowly creep down the creaky wooden stairs to the dark, musky basement. A light is shining on a wooden panelled door with a brass door knob. This door is unlike any other. This door is small about half your size, and you remember it from the days when you first moved in.
The memories start flooding through your head. You were holding your four year old son. “Daddy, who’s in that room?” he asked. You wondered what he meant, no one was in there. Your son’s heart pounded, he was sure he had seen the door knob turn. You saw it too. Somehow your son squirmed our of your arms and ran to the small wooden door, turned the brass knob, and walked right in. You ran after him and made a desperate attempt at the army crawl through the door. Your son was sitting there in a ball inside that narrow tunnel. It was wet, dark, and smelled putrid. There were cockroaches everywhere and you were the uninvited guest. You grabbed your sun and helped him through the door. You crawled back through the door and slammed it shut. You called the exterminator the next day.
You shudder and return to reality. Those were the old days when your biggest problem was bugs. Now you have no family, no friends. You are just a crazy, old loner. Nobody loves you, nobody cares. Your neighbors ignore you, you never leave the house. Your groceries are delivered, and your doorbell never rings. Your life has become a never ending circus show.
You realize there is nothing in the basement, so you head back upstairs. Really you can’t tell reality from dreams, past from present, slowly you’re losing it. Nobody can help you, nobody can save you, unless...maybe you haven’t searched wide enough. You walk quickly up to the third level of the house, into the old office. You log on to the ancient computer sitting on the cool metal desk. You google rehab centers, and nuthouses. Anything that could potentially help you. You give up for today, but not forever.
You long for family game nights, home cooked meals, and easy to pay bills. You used to make money as a lawyer, but in your state of mind you couldn’t continue. You have some money in your bank account, and you sell your paintings to strangers online every once in awhile. You barely have enough money to live on. You’re alive though, alive, but insane.
Sometimes, you wish you weren’t alive, or at least that you had hope. You wish you knew there was something for you in the future.