The Narrator

'''The Narrator '''

Okay, so nothing has happened to me, at least I don’t think it has. I’m not even sure anymore, I just, I can’t think straight these days. When I tell you about it, you’re going to think I’m either insane, paranoid or I have some kind of anxiety disorder. Well, I guess they’re all pretty much the same thing. I don’t think I’m crazy, sure I see things but who doesn’t? Enough of that though, I’m beginning to get ahead of myself. So I’ll start again.

It was about a year ago, sometime in the summer of 2012. I didn’t really have anything to do, my girlfriend had just broken up with me so I didn’t feel like seeing my friends, well the few I had anyway. I was just sort of there, alone, tired, not really feeling anything. I would often log onto my computer and do the usual, you know watch porn, browse eBay and scroll aimlessly on social networking sites, looking at everyone’s bullshit statuses and laughing to my self at their stupidity and such. It happened on a day like this, just a normal day for me. Scrolling up and down, laughing at others. It was on this day I saw someone had posted a link, it wasn’t some dodgy website or from someone I didn’t know. It was from this guy called Mike at my college, not that it’s important well maybe it is but I don’t know... I’m going off topic again. The link was just a YouTube video of a guy reading some kind of short horror story. I was going to click straight off; I’ve never really been fond of things like that but I saw how many likes it had and the positive feedback it had been getting. I started watching. The video was called ‘A Memory’ and it had a picture of a little boy sat on what looked like a bed. The background was very low key, dark and I thought I saw outlines of things, I don’t know exactly what they were but I felt uneasy looking at them. The most disturbing thing was the expression on the boys face, he was permanently smiling, and I say permanently because from what I could see his ‘smile’ was carved in his face, he was missing his eyes too. It wasn’t terrifying just unsettling, to say the least. The narrator began to speak, his voice was kind of, I don’t really know how put this but I guess you could say it was unnerving yet comforting at the same time. Maybe I should have stopped there.

Of course, my curiosity and boredom made me listen. The story was okay, nothing outstanding yet still pretty creepy. If I had just stumbled upon this and read it for myself I doubt I would’ve ended up where I am now. It was due to the atmosphere the narrator had created, his voice accompanied by that unsettling picture along with the music playing in the background – I forgot to mention the music! This really drew me in, I... As soon as I heard it I just felt so hopeless and so full of dread and despair, it was really just the icing on the cake. – All this together was just perfect, it was disturbing. I saw he had other videos; I began watching them one after another and every time the same feeling would just flow through me. Maybe it was boredom, curiosity or maybe it was because of how I had been feeling lately. I don’t know but the videos, listening to them, experiencing them within my head just, it just gave me a sort of rush. It was safe to say I was starting to become addicted.

The next few weeks consisted of me rewatching everyone of these readings. The videos acted as a substitute for porn. Before I would often find myself jerking one out every time I logged on to my computer. Now I would always end up watching one of the narrator’s videos. The videos started taking over my life, when the summer was over and I returned to college I neglected my work and my attendance dropped significantly almost to the point of being kicked out. My friends, well at that point they were strangers to me, I hadn’t spoken to them in weeks, I just didn’t feel like it. I didn’t feel like going out, doing my work, seeing my friends, any of it. I didn’t care; at least I still had the narrator and his videos. My addiction grew to the point that I would dream about the characters within the stories. The monsters became real to me, they were in my mind. In my dreams I would often find myself being stalked by a tall figure in the woods or I’d see a pale man at the end of my bed or... I don’t even know. This whole portion of my memory is just a blur and the dreams have all merged together into just one horrifying nightmare. All I know is I couldn’t stop watching them. They terrified yet satisfied me at the same time and I had to listen. I had to sustain whatever was making me want, no not want, need. Whatever was making me need to listen I had to, I, I had to obey it.

A few months after that, I was expelled from my college due to extremely poor attendance and neglect of work, accompanied by aggressive and disrespectful behaviour. Who could blame them right? I could. I could blame someone... The fucking narrator. That’s what I told them, my teachers, I told them it was his fault. The college sent for a doctor, fearing something was wrong with me. I ended up being recommended to a therapist; at least I think it was a therapist. My mind isn’t too clear right now. I don’t think he helped that much, in fact I think he made it worst. He made me tell him about these stories. I told him all about the narrator and I even showed him the YouTube channel with the videos on. He told me what I already knew. They were just stories, just images with music and a narrator. Of course I knew that. I still know that to this day, not once have I ever doubted that they are just stories, I mean stories are just fiction, they’re not real and you can’t make something real by thinking that it is, can you? Could it be possible that my fucked up mind made these monsters real? It made them haunt me, it made me... insane. At least that’s what my therapist had said. He told me that these videos had affected me at a point when I was vulnerable, when I wanted to feel bad. He said it was all in my mind and that he would help me. I think I only saw him about three times. On the last time I went he said something to me as I was leaving. “Don’t give in to your fears. If you do, you won't be able to talk to your heart”. For some reason this scared me, it was like he was in my mind as well, he knew exactly what I was feeling. That was the last time I saw him, since I was no longer in my dorm no one knew where I lived anymore, they couldn’t find me, I could be alone.

For the next couple of weeks I thought about contacting the narrator, it would have been easy, just a simple message over YouTube. However, every time I tried I couldn’t. I got as far as ‘Who are you? I think your videos have done something to me, I need your help’ and then I would delete it. There was something in the back of mind, something saying no... Maybe some how the narrator had got in my mind also, maybe he was just as terrifying as the monsters in the stories.

It’s now been a long time since I tried to contact the narrator; I haven’t done much since then. I’ve been doing odd jobs here and there, making money and just trying to survive. I still don’t sleep much, when I do I have nightmares and when I awake I’m still in those nightmares. The other day though, the narrator uploaded a new video. However, this video was different. He was in it, although, it wasn’t him. I, I mean he was wearing a mask, a blue mask with dark eyes... That’s all I remember, by that I mean I just don’t remember anything after seeing him in the video, I just woke up and it was over, the video was over. I have no idea what happened to me, I might have passed out but that’s never happened before. I never sleep but I’ve never passed out due to lack of it. That mask stuck with me though. Why was he hiding his face? <span style="font-family:"Andalus","serif";background:white">Was he a spirit? Was he a robot? Was he a virus's patient zero? Who the fuck knows? I tried to play the video again but my connection was out, I think. My memory is a bit blurred again... A bit blurred from about 3 days ago, things are definitely getting worse. I don’t have anyone to talk to about it, people ignore me they think I’m insane but I’m not! I know it’s real it has to be! ...Sorry I’m just a little shook up, I know it’s not real, it’s, they’re just stories and it’s all in my head.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Andalus","serif"">For fuck sake! Why have I let these, these things take over my life? I’ve tried to ignore them, but I can’t I fucking can’t. It’s, it’s like they’ve taken the excitement, the rush I felt before and it’s just been warped into fear, uncontrollable, depressing, fucking fear. I fail to see the point of anything lately. What’s the point in living if all you see, all you know is fear? I can’t sleep, I don’t want to eat and I only do it out of necessity. I barely wash, I’m too scared to even take a shower and I no longer leave the house. I’ve forgotten so many things; these stories have just taken over my mind they’re the only things I truly know. Strange what the brain chooses to remember. I see things, out of the corners of my eyes. I see people and, and memories. They won’t go, they just, they just stay there and stare at me. I keep telling myself that they aren’t real, they’re not here! This makes them angry; I can feel them all the time. They’re watching me right now as I am typing this; they’re all here and so is he. Please, please for your own safety; do not feed your curiosity, at least not as much as I have, I’ve lost everything because of him. Just live your life; just ...Just take it easy.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Andalus","serif"">Ps. fuck you Mike. -  “Don't give in to your fears. If you do, you won't be able to talk to your heart.”