Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25979764-20150128184048

Peripheral

                 At some point in our time here it’s happened to you. The creepy corner at the side of the shower, or when your attempts at sleep are futile, and you’d swear to Christ something was in the corner of your eye. Drooling at the fact that you’ll never fully comprehend what, or who was about to make your acquaintance. Names wouldn’t be fair to the family and friends of the victim. The following story follows “Joe Jameson”, and his infatuation with the entity we can only describe as “The Peripheral”.

                 Joe was your modern day teen. Lazy; but good with electronics. Tried some drugs, liked some drugs. Got admitted to the local Drug and Alcohol center of outpatient, got a job. Still liked the drugs, but being able to eat, sleep and shit comfortably in his own house, and keeping his dog fed were his priorities. His mom leeched off of his every cent, which was probably the cause of his once dormant psychosis showing its true colors.

                 During the aforementioned groups he wasn’t necessarily “different”. Those kind of terms weren’t appropriate for those “now Jesus fearing imbeciles”. That’s when Joewould get his two cents in. “Blindly following a long haired man by the millions, but if I told one of these junkies this sugar was cocaine they’d try to snort it”. Dark I know, but I loved that shit. That’s where I and Joe made our connection, humor. They always say the most damaged people wear the biggest smiles, in Joe’s case he just had the best jokes, other than that he was more or less mute.

                 Summer came faster than it felt, winter had passed, and Joe hadn’t shown up to his weekly meetings. I knew he had the new gig at the firm on Market Street, so I figured I’d stop in. I sat in the waiting room while the receptionist was shooting the shit on the phone, I was 90% sure she was open for business but whores weren’t my concern today. She buzzed me in the back where Joe’s office was located. Over the faint sound of music I could hear his fingers violently dancing on the keyboard. When I walked in, he switched his browser before I could even attempt to guess what he was doing. I also noticed he kept peeking at me, or possibly behind me? I’ve never made the connection until it was on paper. Being as we were both “recovering addicts” I felt the need to address his absence, and try to bring him back. Recovery is a fabricated statement, but in Joe’s case he needed the mental stability more than a daily drug test. I can’t fully recollect the conversation. The focal points are all here though

“What’s Hapn’nin Cap’n?” I asked, trying to sound friendly and concerned at the same time.

“I’m sick; I have a doctor’s note. Tell the supervisors I’ll be in Monday” he replied

“Joe, today’s fuckin Thursday” I was a tad shocked, he didn’t look like he left that desk since the last group meeting. “Bro, maybe you should go get some rest? You look shitty, wont get any of that stuck up receptionist tail looking like you saw a gho-“. I was stopped dead in my tracks when Joe’s focus went from me, to the other side of the room.

“We really need to talk; I’ll be here another few hours. Come by the house around 7:30 and I’ll explain.”

                 At this point I was questioning my choices of friends. Either he was sick, or worse. I made my way to the house at 7:30, when he opened the door, all the lights were out and Joe sat directly in the corner, with his laptop facing the wall. “Sorry, this is the only way I can be comfortable” He said, face inches away from the monitor. Every few seconds his head would jolt in a direction opposite of his visibility, he seemed… distracted? I can’t really use “distracted” as my example, because he was more FOCUSED on what he thought he saw, rather than distracted by it. “You’ve got to watch these!”



                 Laid out on his bed was three photos, all three were time stamped at 11:34 AM, but the dates were chronological. 7/11, then 7/12, and finally 7/13; Today was the 14th. At least this “research” he’s presenting me shows he wasn’t lying about his activities. The pictures depict a strange yet familiar figure in the exact spot Jeff was sitting. It sort of looked like a Macys Mannequin, but sickly. Like Slenderman if you believe that horse shit. That’s perfect! He was a regular looking Slenderman. Averageman? Let’s stay on topic. Well, in the first 2 images, the figure is blurred. It almost seems as if the figure is avoiding contact, more or less ducking in the second image, like the “Pedestrian crossing” symbol on a street sign. The third image is where I started feeling strange, like I shouldn’t be involved in this, and I should leave Jeff to his bull shit and leave. The third image depicted a hollow face. It had features, and they were extremely definitive! Imagine an albino Asian. No; not like the grudge. A real albino, without pigment, not some dirty little bitch from a well. You could see the distinct features of an Asian male’s face.

“Who the hell is he then Joe?” I was more curious than scared up until this point.

“If my studies are on the right track, his name is “Don K. Loot”. He was the renter here prior to me, and allegedly killed himself, cut himself ear to ear, mutilated himself almost past recognition, right in this spot”

“You keep talkin’ this bullshit and I’m reporting a relapse, you’re really starting to worry me man.” Normally I’d let it pass as Joe being Joe, but now he’s really screwy

“Report ME?! I’m nearing a breakthrou-“Joe’s head once again bolts in another direction, almost maniacally. He comes back to eye contact, and that’s when he spills the beans

<p class="MsoNormal">“You don’t see that?” He said hopefully

<p class="MsoNormal">“See what” I replied hoping he’d make sense with his response, my hopes were shattered

<p class="MsoNormal">“You know!” He says sounding agitated and worried at the same time. “Like when you’re just minding your business and you see something in the corner of your eye, or think you do? Peripheral vision, my good man!”

<p class="MsoNormal">“SERIOUSLY?!” my tone only seemed to anger him more. “All this freaking out and isolation for THAT?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Don doesn’t think it’s crazy. That picture I showed you? I saw him, JOLT to that corner, at around 11:32 AM, the pictures I showed you were taken at 11:34”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Joe, you’re definitely on something. Fuck this”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Look at THIS” He said in assurance”

<p class="MsoNormal">                 On his laptop he pulled up the last picture, from today, the 14th. It was time stamped at 11:34 AM, just like the previous ones. Only this time, Don wasn’t in the picture. It was what appeared to be a message. It read “DON’T LOOK” in grainy red words.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I’ve been studying for WEEKS, and my conclusion is. What if? What if these Peripheral sights aren’t our minds playing tricks on us, but instead they are a blatant warning of danger? What if someone or something is watching? What if it wants ME!?”

<p class="MsoNormal">                 Long story short, I left after that. Not because of fear, but because I couldn’t take his shit anymore. Ill regret this for the rest of my life.

<p class="MsoNormal">                 An excerpt from the Action News at 10pm that aired that night

<p class="MsoNormal">''Police are ruling the death of 24 year old Joe Jameson as an assisted Suicide. Autopsies reveal that after self-mutilation, which included the corners of each eye being viciously ripped out, Mr. Jameson used a 12” Kitchen knife to carve into his own chest, which reports say read “DON’T LOOK!”. Police are still surveying the home, but the only evidence they have of foul play is the knife used, which is engraved “Property of Don K. Loot, 1997 on the handle, and the blade reads “ The Peripheral”.''

<p class="MsoNormal"> 

<p class="MsoNormal">                 Although I feel like my story is cut short here, this is basically all I have to say. I’d wanted to look more into the subject, but I’m pretty shook. I’ll report back here with anymore news about the situa- Wait… Did you see that? <ac_metadata title="Pasta is saying my story is black-listed. Can&#039;t find the reason :("> </ac_metadata>