Still can't seem to get over this cold, and my two guards take rotating shifts to keep me from even getting up with out them knowing about it. How well do I know these guys any way? They both seem unstable and I could have sworn I saw John sneer at me. I can't even look at the pages of the book. It all just blurs together. I've looked at them so long I'm beginning to think that I wrote them myself . . . I mean, is that so impossible? Yesterday, I hid a fork under my pillow with out them noticing, I want it just in case one of them tries to attack me while I sleep. They're just waiting for me to get worse so that I'm too weak to fight back.
My dreams haunt me as well, so sleep is no solace. They are horrible dreams in which I find my hands bloodied at the end. Every night it's more than a hundred; more deaths all taking place in my mind, with my own hands. Why are these dreams happening to me? Does it have something to do with the book?
Paranoia fills my mind but it could just be the cold. What's happening to me?
My dreams haunt me as well, so sleep is no solace. They are horrible dreams in which I find my hands bloodied at the end. Every night it's more than a hundred; more deaths all taking place in my mind, with my own hands. Why are these dreams happening to me? Does it have something to do with the book?
Paranoia fills my mind but it could just be the cold. What's happening to me?
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