ENTRY 8: HELLO STRESS

I shouldn’t even be typing this right now, I’m so fucking tired. It’s 2:22 am and this day has been all kinds of messed up. My hands won’t stop shaking and my head feels like it’s full of cobwebs and rocks. It’s been a long day since I last picked up this laptop.

All I can say is I wish I hadn’t followed them into the hallway, but I did. Now I can’t get any of it out of my mind.

Dr. Nelson, I know we just spoke earlier but I never got to talk to you about Michael and the fucked-up shit that happened this afternoon. When I heard all that screaming and commotion outside in the hallway I had the worst sense of dread and the second I stepped out there I knew I was going to be walking into a nightmare. 

The hallway was absolute chaos. Half the group was crowding the doors with wide eyes and their arms curled up to their chests as they witnessed the horror scene unfolding. There was blood streaked across the wall in long, messy drags like someone had clawed at it. Michael… ugh, I can’t even type his name without feeling sick, was making this throaty growling noise that didn’t even sound human anymore.

When I got closer I saw what he did.

The man that we’d all come to love for his radiant personality and cooking aspirations and just, overall good fucking vibes, had clawed his own eyes out with his fingers. I saw him there on the carpet, on his back, fingers still twitching like claws reaching into the air. His once always smiling face was torn to shit and blood trickled in every direction off his face. 

Emily was standing there bawling like a baby with her hands over her mouth. Lynette looked like she was about to puke, one arm wrapped around her stomach. Randy just stared for a second with this dead, zombie look on his face, then turned around and walked straight back into his room like none of it mattered. That creeped me out more than I care to admit, what the fuck is going on with Randy?

Chuck just stared in disbelief, but also with a slight panic in his eyes, like he’d seen it before, which I’m sure he did being in the Marines and all. 

Rudy, that creepy bastard, was in the back behind everyone, totally calm and grinning… that shook my nerves and it took everything I had not to say, “What the fuck are you smiling about you fat fuck?” But I was too shocked by Michael.
 
Everyone else was having a meltdown, voices were overlapping.

“What the fuck happened?” “Is he dead?” “Somebody do something!”

Dr. Waters completely lost it. “Back in your rooms! Now!” he screamed, voice cracking. The security guys started shoving people away from Michaels body and some orderlies came in with a stretcher to move Michael out of the hallway and I’m hoping to the nearest hospital.

I slipped back into my room before anyone could touch me and locked the door. I just listened for a long time through the walls. I could hear scrubbing and grumbling and sobs from the others. I fell asleep hoping when I woke up it was all just a bad dream.

I couldn’t get Michael’s face out of my head. 

Later they finally let us out for a late dinner. Nobody talked much and not everyone came out. I didn’t see Amanda, Emily or Frank. The blood was cleaned up but you could still smell it under the bleach. Lynette didn’t even touch her food and lost her shit. She stood up from the table and started yelling that she wanted out, that she needed to go home to her kids. When Roberts told her no, she really went off… screaming, swinging, calling them every name in the book. It took three orderlies and Dr. Roberts to pin her down. They stuck her with a needle right there in the common room. She went limp and they dragged her out through the side door.

Nobody’s seen her since. I really fucking hope she’s okay.

A little after ten, Waters and two guards showed up at my door again.

“Jake, come with us. Dr. Nelson needs to speak with you.”

They took me to his office. He looked like a fucking train wreck. His hair was all over the place and his eyes looked really dark and sunken. I felt a little worried I was getting kicked out right then and there and he didn’t waste any time. He slid a grainy photo across the desk. Tony and Jimmy Manzoni standing at the front gate.

“You recognize them?” he asked.

My stomach dropped. “Yeah. They’re the ones I owe money to.”

Nelson nodded slowly. “They showed up asking for you by name. No one is supposed to know this location exists.” He pulled out my wallet and held up a tiny flat disk. “We found this inside. They planted it on you.”

I just stared at the thing. I had no idea how this happened and I said, “I don’t know what the fuck that is, where’d you find it?”

“In your wallet, Jake, I just told you that.” He said raising the wallet up high, his face getting red. “You’re not entirely to blame, we should have checked during intake.” Then Nelson leaned forward, voice low. “We’ve contained the situation for now. But the fact they know where we are… that raises serious concerns with my higher-ups.”

He wouldn’t say who the higher-ups were and just shut down when I asked and told me to stay calm and keep going with the trial.

I feel completely fucking drained. Tired. Depressed. Everything is falling apart and I don’t know how much longer I can pretend I’m okay. This place doesn’t feel like the answer it was supposed to be anymore. 

I don’t even know if I want the nine grand at this point. I just want to wake up and have none of this be real. I guess, since I’m probably on the dummy pill that I’ll be okay and today is officially 5 days, so that’s $1500 which means if they release me I’ll at least get that. Of course it won’t cover shit, but it may buy me some time with those assholes that put the tracker on me. FUCK!!! I’m so stupid, they must have planted that shit on me last week when they beat my ass in the snow. 

Dammit Michael, what the fuck? Why did you do this shit today and why did it have to be you?

Is there even gonna be a trial after today?

I’m going to sleep. I can’t take this shit anymore.
​
—Jake

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