Pigsty

Dustin flopped exhausted, his whole left arm got cut clean off and he barely escaped. The bleeding clotted instantly so all he had to do was sleep it off. He layed staring at the ceiling. “One sheep, two sheep, three sheep…” Dustin lazily says out loud. He gets up and slams his head against the wall and was out like a light. Dustin awoke with a jolt, he was sitting in a chair and had a pencil in his hand. He looked around him and the room was a pigsty. There were words scribbled all on the walls, his bed was a mess. He seemed to have been bleeding from his eyes. His room was hot and humid, he was slightly bewildered yet he remained calm, as if this was normal. He took a closer look at the notes. It looks like chicken scratch and some parts are blocked by blood, but for some reason it seemed he could perfectly understand the writing. “This system of the entire world is based on mutually agreed concepts. They are flimsy by themselves yet when everyone believes they become concrete, they take shape and form as if it was always there. Let's say you did something good and you got praise and a reward. What exactly is good? What is the true meaning of the word “good.” How exactly do we define good? On that note how do we define bad. Well you would say something like, “Good is someone who follows rules and doesn't sin.” Well you are correct. But how do you know? Rules can easily be overthrown if nobody followed them. We don't have to follow but we feel a mutual understanding too. Now what is bad. Think about it. What one may consider bad could be someones good. And that's where the concept really starts to seem flimsy. So theoretically it would be possible to break all the laws, to break all the rules, to completely flip what we know on its head if we all make it out normal. Just like how we try our best to follow laws, like how we define good and evil. If we incorporate it as we do into our day to day lives, without questions, without doubt would it work the same way. Will the theory apply. For all we know it may have already been done but we don't know it. The notes end there but just as Dustin was about to take a walk he stopped more papers underneath. Out of curiosity he decided to read it.

“I don't know how long i've been here. I can't remember things. I'm in a world by myself. I cannot think, I cannot remember. It hurts to remember. And I forget more by remembering. I'm stuck in this empty mall. However sometimes I'm freed. I see the world from someone's eyes. I have control over this period as i am writing this right now. But that doesn't mean i’ll be here forever. Whenever I can , I will try my best to warn you about a vestige creature. It doesn't exist but you can still find traces of it. It roams the minds of the living and dead alike. It calls itself the Caretaker. It has no shape, no form. Yet it seems to have a body. If you wake up in an empty place. DO NOT REMEMBER. It causes more pain. DO NOT CRY FOR HELP. it gets worse. I can perfectly recall my life so i will document it here as sort of a refresh station after i get out of the empty prison that mall is. My name is Dustin Crelic, I was a philosopher therapist hybrid. I recall the process of dying but not how I died. My family are-.” The writing trails off the paper. Dustin a deep breath and takes a look at the walls. DO NOT TRUST HIM. THE CREATURES NEVER STOP. WHO ARE THEY. THE EYES STARE. WHAT IS DEATH. THIS IS ENLIGHTENMENT. THIS IS ATONEMENT. THIS IS PUNISHMENT. THIS IS WHAT I DESERVE. WHO AM I. WHAT ARE THEY. THEY STARE. THEY WATCH. THEY LISTEN. THEY QUESTION. THEY DESTROY. THEY CREATE. I'M FALLING. I'M FLYING. DON'T LISTEN. DON'T WATCH. DON'T HEAR. DON'T THINK. DON'T THINK. DON'T THINK. DON'T THINK. DON'T THINK. DON'T THINK. DON'T THINK. DON'T THINK. DON'T THINK.” Dustin backed away from the wall clutching his chest. His blood pumping somehow makes this experience feel more real than it should be. The writing was hard to make out as it was layered on top of each other. He took another look at everything around him, what was on the wall, it was all written in blood. The stench was horrible. Dustin stumbled to the door confused. He grabs his jacket and walks out the door into the main area of his residence. He walks outside stumbling and mumbling over every step to the sidewalk.

“At least I got my left arm back.” He mumbles to himself. The snow on the ground and the chilly atmosphere was perfect for a walk.