Mind of a Madman II (Writing Contest Piece)

[King Fenii]

---


~ Mind of a Madman II ~

In the beginning, you fail to understand what is going on…After that, you fail overall…

I wish I could tell you my full story, but it is hard for me to remember at this point. For so long I have been trying…trying to see, no, trying to feel what on earth was happening here. It is as if I have lived for nothing. Up until now, I thought I knew everything…I, I was wrong…

It all started when I received a letter. In the letter, the writer referred to me as Oedipus, not by my real name. The writer wrote that a strange event was about to occur if I didn’t head downtown. I didn’t know if I had to believe such nonsense and in my scepticism I threw the letter away…

Two days past and my days off were over. After dragging my lazy self out of bed I headed to the bathroom, at tortoise pace. I took my daily shower, brushed my teeth and quickly put my clothes on, as I was running late for work. As I raced down the stairs, I forgot to put on some cologne, which gave me reason to head back up. I realised a breakfast would be out of the picture, but I didn’t really mind, I would’ve bought something on the way to work. I had the feeling I was all set, which was rather awkward, I normally cared less…

As my hand reached for the doorknob, I almost forgot my keys, and quickly snatched them off the shelf. Now I was really getting late and with haste I opened the front door, or so I thought. It didn’t seem to open at first, as the lock was still on. I grabbed my keys and turned the lock in my door. I tried to open the door again…realising I had just locked it. Because of the lack of sleep and lazy wake-up, I may have just been clumsy. I unlocked the door and tried to open it once again, but it just wouldn’t open. This whole scenario was getting on my nerves. I was extremely late and now my own front door won’t open on me. There’s only one lock on the damn thing, so I checked all of the sides to make sure nothing was blocking it. It was all clear, so logically, it should’ve opened. I pulled the door with all of my might, but it just wouldn’t move.

I now regretted the fact that I couldn’t use my back door, it was somewhat sealed by all of the junk I stored in front of it; a sofa, three lampposts, four chairs, half a table, two stuffed animals, and a whole lot of magazines revolving around my father, who once was a famous psychologist. I wasted time thinking of old days, although they’re real blurry at this point. I felt really embarrassed from that point on, as I had to find stupid ways to get out of my own house…

After reminiscing facts about the objects blocking my door, I went to a window in my living room; the one I always opened on warmer days. I tried to open the window, but just like my front door, it wouldn’t budge…I then ran upstairs, where there were about a dozen of windows I tried to open, but all without success. I began to think that this was some kind of dumb joke, so I picked up my phone to call one of my closest friends. Oddly enough, my phone didn’t even respond. I was as if it was rebelling against me.

So now I’m locked in my own house, I can’t call anyone, and I’m absurdly late for work…How was I going to reach them? I had this frightening feeling I was going to lose my job… I’ve struggled so much to get it, I’ve overcome so many obstacles…they would show no mercy, they would surely fire me if I didn’t show up. The very least I could’ve done was letting them know my situation. I’ve acquired such a good position, almost as good as the one my father had. Yes, I am a psychologist as well, and if it were up to me, I would’ve chosen another profession, but it’s just that I was so damn good at it.

My father always wanted me to roll in to the ‘psychology world’. At first, I didn’t feel anything for it, but when my old man somewhat forced me to study psychology, I discovered my unique talent for it. It was then that I showed my dedication for it and made a lot of people proud of me, people like my father. The only thing that was still bothering me was the fact that I still hadn’t surpassed him...

My father was a swell man. He grew up as an orphan and never received any special attention, until people saw his tenacity and iron will to survive. It was just that that made him acquire a scholarship to study psychology. Within a small amount of time, he managed to amaze almost all of his professors. He made his way up, and before he even realised it, he became the pioneer of the whole psychology happening. He wrote four best-selling books, increasing his popularity amongst the people, and making him wealthy within months. I have lived in his shadow all that time...

I didn’t know how much time had passed since after my mind wandered away like that, and I knew that I had to accept the fact that my position was being jeopardised. Finding another way out was once again engraved in my head. Smashing my front door in sounded like a good idea at first, but it didn’t seem like the smartest thing to do. Also, my door opened to the inside, making it far too hard.

It suddenly hit me that one of my patients had a similar situation. His was a bit less exaggerated, but enough reason to cause some mischief. His house was in a bad neighbourhood and they were renovating the houses that actually needed renovation. Sadly enough, his house was seen as condemned, and with the people thinking he was already out of the house, they nailed down his front door. Lucky for him, he could still make some phone calls, and it turned out that they had the wrong house, which made sense why they hadn’t warned him. Now...my phone wasn’t working, so I doubt someone could tell me this whole scenario is just a misunderstanding.

I was feeling rather cornered. A certain panic took over me. I lost control and grabbed the largest object I could find in the room, which was the table that was sawn in half. I grabbed it firmly by its sides, held it directly over my head and tossed it with all of my strength towards my living room window. What I saw then, nobody could’ve ever imagined…even in their worst dreams things like that wouldn’t occur. The window was cracked immensely in the middle, but it didn’t break. It was as if the table was bounced back or something…

Three nights have passed since then, and I have run out of ideas. I have only thought where I should go next with my future. I am undoubtedly fired, but I’m also wondering if anyone even cares I didn’t show up. I left the table at were it dropped after my last attempt to escape. I am now trying to understand how this all could’ve happened. This is either a plot, a conspiracy of some sort, or I’m a victim of some nutcase’s doing. I was something logical…that is all I knew. A rather simple calculation could figure this all out…

After I had written all the possibilities down, my stomach hollered at me. Whoever was planning this had overlooked the fact I had enough food to last at least three full months, so I wasn’t worried about that. I made myself a whopping sandwich and sat at the kitchen table. As I was eating, I looked at the magazines in front of my back door. I picked one up to read it; it sure as hell beat watching a TV with no response. There was an article in the magazine where they interviewed my father about the release of his fourth book. The interviewer asked: “After the giant success of your first three books, do you expect the fourth to have that same effect?” My father, who was ever so modest, replied: “Well, certainly, this fourth book will be my final book. You see, as I’ve said before, four is a magical number, especially in the human mind. Four is a full family, four is the number of limbs, and four is also the number of true competition. The number four is needed for certain tranquillity in the human life. Four is where it begins, and four is where it ends…” I never understood that sentence…
After my father’s success, we started to live much larger. He bought this beautiful house and we lived life as it should. He was expecting me to grow as a psychologist as well. He said that he wouldn’t be around forever, and that I should follow in his tracks. I totally agreed with him. One day, he invited a close friend of his to discuss my further future as a psychologist. He said that in order to impress everyone, I had to write a review of my father’s fourth book. And there it happened, the beginning of my headaches. My father was complex man, and his theories were all so complicated. I stayed up nights trying to figure them all out, but I simply couldn’t…

On the day I should’ve finished the review, my father’s friend came by again. This time, I heard him arrive earlier then I usually would. When I wanted to talk to them, I…saw them kissing each other. I didn’t know if I should’ve confronted them with that, all I could think about was my mother. It was bad enough my father was being unfaithful, but he was being so with another man. I went back to my room to clear my head. All of a sudden I was called down by my father’s friend. I made them wait a while for me…

I arrived downstairs and I saw the two of them sitting at the wooden dining table. The first thing my father asked was: “Well…?” I pretended I didn’t know what he was talking about: “…Mom asked if you could spare a minute to talk to her…” My father sighed deeply, apologised to his friend and quickly headed upstairs. His friend looked at me with an expecting look. I knew what I had to do…

Four is the beginning, four is the end…

When my father came back down, I could hear him complaining to me on the hallway that my mother didn’t want to talk to him at all. I think that he would’ve never imagined what he saw next. His ever so dear friend was tied to table, lying on his back, with his limbs tied to the table’s legs. His mouth was stuffed with a towel, so he wouldn’t scream. My father was immensely confused: “Wh, what are you doing, son?” I explained him gently that I found it unfair that he was cheating on my mother with another man, and that he should hail her and apologise for his distrust. I told him not to test me, because I was very willing to hurt his loving friend.

My mother was brought downstairs and my father started to explain everything. He was finally doing the right thing. Everything was being settled out at last. He admitted he was wrong, apologised for his strange ways…and brought up the word ‘divorce’. At that point, I lost control again. My mind seemed to have left my body. I grabbed the saw I had prepared, jumped on out dining table, and started to saw at the middle. With the single bit of reason I had, I knew that point was where I had to saw the least. My mother was immobilised and shocked by the earlier news. My father, the strong believer in society, tried to call the police first, but I had disabled the phone lines just after they called for me.

Before my father even realised he couldn’t make a call, his friend was now in two. My father then started to blur out all sorts of nonsense. He cursed the day I was born, cursed the day he even met mother, just so that I had never been born. He forgot why this had started in the first place…

He shouldn’t have mentioned mother, not while I was in a state like that. It could barely be called a struggle. One quick swipe and he was down, from there on, he was helpless. Mother had vanished upstairs, so rushed up to support her. What I saw then, made me feel almost as lifeless as she was, hanging there. My beautiful mother, this wasn’t fair. After all, it was her I tried to protect her all this time…

After everything was settled, I chopped up the bodies of my father and his friend and buried them in the back garden. I buried my mother and gave her an actual grave, also in the back garden. I burned one end of the table; I kept the other one to seal off the back door. I also placed the sofa there, three lampposts, two of my mother’s favourite stuffed animals, the four chairs that came with the table, and all of the magazines that revolved around my father. Nothing was there to symbolise my father’s friend.

I finally had a better position then my father. In order to focus on my new position, I needed to forget this incident. But, there was one detective that wouldn’t forget. He investigated what had happened, and referred to me as Oedipus, a mythological figure of some sort. He noticed I hadn’t left in a while, and sent me a letter that my trial would begin shortly, so I should go to court. They always call these sorts of things ‘downtown’… humph, strange people. After I had received that letter, I asked a friend, a friend I shouldn’t have, if he could seal off my entire house, in case they try to break in. I must’ve forgotten this, as I’ve been acting so foolish lately. The cut in my lower arm is finally starting to heal; well, at least it’s not bleeding anymore …

I am so confused at this point. I want to go outside again, even just for a little while. Yesterday I came up with a good idea. I was thinking back at my chemistry class where they explained that gas can force its way through pretty much anything so I opened the gas taps in the kitchen yesterday. It should’ve spread by now. At least one place in the house should open up.

I can’t believe how tired I am. I am so tired of all this. Tired of all this stupidity…and over what? I was just doing the right thing. The right thing to keep my family together. That is all I cared about. All I care about now is just getting out of this house. I should…yeah. I have the match in my right hand, and the box in my left. I’m just praying this works.

…Freedom, here I come…



---

[Mistress Sheena]

Creativity - 4/5: Wow. This is really great. To be honest, I actually was going to write something kind of similar if I entered the contest. Glad I didn't. I wasn't even expecting this kind of story to appear, but well done on this aspect.

Grammar - 4.5/5: Well, there were a few spelling errors, but nothing too major. All in all the story's been kept really nice.

Style - 5/5: The story has kept me very interested all the way through. In the beginning, I had no idea who the person was that sent the letter, nor why they were addressing him as Oedipus. But as I continued to read, I finally understood why. I loved all that foreshadowing in the beginning. I was wondering to myself why he blocked off the back door with those specific objects, and why the phone didn't work. So I kept reading on to find out why. And low and behold, there were reasons for such actions.

All in all, it's really well done and maintained my interest throughout.

[Lai]

Creativity- That was something else. One heck of a story, if I say so myself. It reminded me a little bit of Silent Hill 4, but not enough that I saw stolen elements. It seemed pretty original to me. Though I would have liked to see a bit more explanation and insight as to the different stuffed animals or furniture. But still, I'm amazed with how planned out it seemed. I have to give you 9.5/10

Grammar-A lot of comma errors and some spelling errors. Also, semicolon usage would be of good help to you. 8.5/10

Style- Awesome. Keeping the entire story in first person was a fantastic idea for this. It seemed as though this guy actually was talking to me, and the way you wrote it only adds to that effect. If it were any more formal than it was, then points would be taken off, but because of the type of story it was, it worked just fine. The only problem I've got is that even though the theme of isolation was very apparent, you seemed to spend more time writing about his insanity or even regret. Even so, I'm giving you 8.5/10

Overall: 26.5/30

Fantastic story. Keep up the good work.

[Plastik Assassin]

Creativity- I loved it. The story kept me very interested the whole way through. The last couple of paragraphs blew me away. Very dark, very surreal, yet very easy to relate to. I feel as if we have all been here to some extent. Speaking in first person also scored a lot of points for me. I truly believed that it was all real, because I speak to myself in the same manner. I am quite impressed. 9/10

Grammar- Again, a couple of spelling errors, maybe a semicolon here and there opposed to a comma. Regardless, awesome work. You are definitely talented. 9/10

Style- Again, I loved the first person. I have always gravitated toward this style of writing personally, so you lucked out there. Like Piro said, the foreshadowing was brilliant. My second time through a lot more of the story dawned on me. Opened it up quite a bit. At first, I was confused on some things, but then you explained them quite nicely and solved many mysteries.... Exceptional 9/10

27/30

This will be tough to beat my friend.