Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25947144-20150618220154

"I just can't take it anymore Doc. You know, I have my limits. I took all those freaking expensive pills you recomended me, which drugged me by the way, and a those sounds don't stop. It actually got worse", Michael said, glancing at every corner of the room.

Michael was had been telling his family about hearing some weird noises in his house every night since he moved in. Nobody ever found anything that could cause this noise he described as "zinging". At first, they believed it was just a strange phase of maturity and accomodation and it would soon go away. But this persisted for over 10 weeks, so they decided to send him to a doctor. They found Doctor Kirby Wane, a well-known psychiatrist.

"So what happened tonight?", Kirby said with a slighlty annoyed look.

"So I went to bed, took a sleeping pill and tried to drift off as quick as I could before it started and I almost did. But then it started.

"Ziing...ziing..."

So slow and barely noticeable. But I heard it for such a long time that it was impossible. I nearly cried inside- a little sleep is to much? At first it was annoying, then scary, then annoying and scary. The pace quickened and it became faster and faster...it was coming from the closet. I tried so hard to sleep, but the freaking only made me extremely tired. I decided to just man up and go. I made my way slowly and the sound was just ringing-

"Zing..zin..zing..zing..zing..zing"

-and then I touched the handle. The sound stopped in that second. Adrenaline raced though my body as I bolted downstairs towards the front door. I exited and called the police. They arrived in 10 minutes-a little to much I'd say-and checked the entire house and found...nothing. They said I should call if this happens again. The rest of the night, I didn't slept. I left all the lights on and watched TV with max volume. I've gotta' tell you, cofee and sleeping pills don't go along at all"

"I know Michael. That's what you always say in the end. This problem caused several other problems: short-term memory loss, insomnia, paranoia and compulsive habits", Kirby said while removing his glasses.

Mike gave him a sad look, "Look, Doc, I know I'm a big in the ass and it would be easier to not bother you with my mad problems. It would be easier for both of us if you'd just sent me to an asylum-"

"Are you kiddind me? It's my job to listen to wackos every day. How do you think I get my big ass thank of money? You may be one of the least severe cases", Kirby said with a friendly smile.

"Look, you've realy tried much and I couldn't ask for more. If I can't be cured, then I have to live with it"

"It probably isn't a medical condition after all. It may be stress-related. Is there anything that stresses you out?"

"Well, me and Maria decided to engage two months ago, but it didn't bother me so much. But it was kind of her idea since I'm a little shy. I wasn't involved in such a serious relationship before"

"Maybe this is it. You can try those meditation shits they recomend you to relax. It's not always bullshits, you know. Are you familiar with placebo? It means it is in all your head. If you think something helps it can actually help. It can work even if you heard about placebo before if you are aware of how good it works."

"Okay, this sounds pretty good Doc"

"So you try that tonight and tell me how it went tomorrow"

"Ok. Bye Doc!", Michael said as he exited the office.

At 22:30 he was in bed after doing everything Kirby told him. At 22:45 he was drifting off and there was no sound. But then, louder than ever he heard:

''Zing! Zing! Zing!''

He felt like he was going insane. Suddenly, a thought bolted though his mid. He ran downstairs and called Kirby fast, but the answering machine responded.

"Doc, sent help...I think I just realized what's with the sound, it's-"

He was hit over the head and fell on the floor. The last thing he saw was a tall man in a black suit standing over him. It was Kirby.

"Oh", he said as he took a metal stick from his pocket and started to sharpen his knife, "you were talking about this sound" 