Schizophrenia. Part 1

I cannot trust anyone. I am my own man. A wise old man once said, "If you didn't go looking under the bed, the monsters won't be able to get you." I laughed at that, and now I regret ever looking. The more I dug, the more I found and it is eating my very soul...

I used to be a successful man. I had a career, I had a family, I had a life. Everyday, I would wake up, make love to my wife, spend breakfast with my kids, make another successful sale at work, and be home for dinner and to kiss the kids goodnight. I had friends who enjoy watching a good baseball game on tv over a few cans of beer. Life was good.

I cannot pin point where it all went downhill. But if I had to put an event or day to it, I would say it was the estrange phone call I recieved from my brother. His voice was trembling, as if Death was behind him, as if the world was going to end. I could not make sense of what he was trying to tell me, "...dogs are watching ... they know ... it is not what it seems ... the pier ... the fish are your friends ..." It was all nonsense, but being a brother, I called the acute crisis line on him. He died a week later in his own room at the asylum. It was put down to suicide, but I was not convinced.

I felt guilty. I was the one who put him there. But I slowly realised that what he had been saying all this time was true. As I visited the asylum to claim his body, I could hear the men in black suits and dark sunglasses even though it was 40 degrees indoors. They were saying that the task was completed, that the Dogs were unhappy that they had to clean it up. I had to investigate further, to seek redemption for what I had done.

It spiraled downhill from then on.

I made enquiries and searched every archive that was within my reach, to find out what Dogs mean. I searched every spelling I could think of, DAWGS, DOGCE, DOCKS... with no avail. Just when I was heading home from the library, I saw the men in similar suits outside. I slowed my pace, trying to get the gist of their conversation. The caught me eaves dropping and quickly walked away, pretending that they had a phone call. I knew they were spying on me. Dogs are watching. All I heard was "Bulls and the North Pole." I cracked my head what it was in relation to Dogs.

I was engrossed in my detective work. I called in sick. I did not go to bed, and I did not see my kids off to school. My wife tried to ask me what was going on, but I could not admit to her that I was responsible for my brother's death. I guess it was my fault also, but she started seeking help from other friends... And because of that I started to see who she really was...

...to be continued...