My heart is still racing in fear, and I'm worried about the scratch on my back. I'm entangled between uncertainty, anxiety, and conviction because I'm not sure if all of this is still a dream. I carefully unbutton my tailcoated tuxedo, each unbutton raising my worry and anxiety.
I take a breather through my window, tie each side of the window curtain, and draw the pressed lock in the windowpane. A fresh breeze blew into my room as I inhaled deeply and released amid such rhythm that I felt a bit comfortable, yet the fear lingered within me. Am I being paranoid or agoraphobia?
I feel unsafe, like someone is watching me, and I cannot express or define this to myself. I am not an empathetic person, so I am at a loss for words, but all I can say is that I feel uneasy and afraid of something. If this unsettling feeling continues, the most serious possible outcome is a mental breakdown.
*Knock* *Knock* *knock*
A loud, repeated knock startled me like a scaredy cat that leaps in surprise, and I tried to maintain my composure before opening the door for fear of raising suspicion as well as distrust towards the investigators. But doesn't it seem too early, or have the corpses been recently found? I shall now open the door before they start to have suspicions and employ a search warrant in my room.
As I approach the door to open it, the door hand suddenly twitches to open, as if someone on the other side of the door is attempting to break in, so I swiftly grasp the door handle to prevent it from opening. It kept trying to open the door handle by force, so I pushed myself through the door to ensure I did not succeed in firmly grasping the knob until it unexpectedly stopped, as though I seemed inside of a film about horrors whenever the actors attempted to prevent the doorknob from opening. In addition, it abruptly stopped so that the characters could peek or let their guard down.
If I were in a situation similar to those shown in horror films, I would not open the door, whatever happened. I gulp while gripping the door handle, and then there's a loud bang, as if they're kicking or punching the door open, but why? Why are they attempting to break in, and why are the residents of this mansion not hearing these loud bangs? Where is Ella? I'm certain he'd arrive promptly.
I can feel the door trembling. They're kicking the door; should I flee through the window? But jumping from the second floor could result in a terrible injury. Should I take the risk? Why not use the bedsheets as a rope to help you escape?
"Young master! Why are you holding the door handle?" An angry voice resonated in my room; Ella was on her way to save me.
I quickly opened the door to see her standing there dressed in her maid attire, also concerned about something that may have happened to her as well. I gulp for a bit and take a deep breath to settle myself; she is staring at me strangely, as if something is bothering me.
"You look pale, Young Master; shall I fetch a doctor?" she inquires. Her genuine concern for me is a blessing in this anxious situation.
"What makes you question me like that? Shouldn't you be asking me regarding those loud bangs coming from my door?" She did not respond, instead staring at me as if I had a few screws loose in my head.
"Perhaps did you see them?"
She hasn't responded to my queries or even attempted to break the deafening quiet; I'm biting my nail, nervous and overthinking. While my head starts boiling and my blood pressure rises to heat my head, I approach Ella and grab her arms to assert my power and anger toward her.
"Bloody hell, answer me, Ella! Where did those loud bangs come from? Answer me for fucking sake!" Her gaze is filled with sympathy for someone, someone who has lost his mind, who became insane, and this someone is me. I glimpse myself in her gazes, yet why does it have to be me in such a pitiful state? For fucking sake, why is it me?
I saw a recognizable female in the door and immediately pushed Ella to my left and hurried towards it, but it abruptly closed, leaving me behind in a daze. I turn my head to look and question Ella, but she is nowhere to be found, as if she vanished when I ran towards the door. I instantly check my back in the mirror, but I don't see any scratches, so I'm perplexed. This is a nightmare! I cursed in my head and ran back to bang on the door.
My shoulders are numb, and I'm tired of beating on my door. I take a deep breath to calm myself, but it's useless. I start kicking the door, but it remains undamaged. What the fuck is going on? If I can't get away, I'll wake myself!
I shove myself in the door and laugh as if Ella's previous utterance about losing a few screws in my head is true. Although blood flows in my face, I continue; nonetheless, the pain in my forehead is partly real. I feel dizzy doing it repeatedly; however, this is a dream, right? So why am I experiencing pain?
I am now losing consciousness, and I pause for a while to attempt to fathom my state of consciousness; nonetheless, there is a blood stain in the door where I pound my forehead. I wipe the blood from my hands and attempt to taste it; it tastes like blood. If this is a dream, why is there a part of me that can feel pain and bleed in real life? Is someone possibly trapping me in an illusion? If they did this, they must have left me in utterance of my own phrase as a precaution for me not to fall insane throughout the dream.
I pound my head against the door once again until I hear a nonsensical, alluring word. Those words reverberate in my head so loudly that it is unbearable, forcing me to cover my ears to block the noise, yet I can nevertheless hear, and listening feels like splitting my brain apart and additionally gouging out my eyes, so I grit my teeth and close my eyes to withstand the pain. The pain is excruciating, so I sprint straight, crashing into the wall because my eyes are still closed. Crashing into the wall gave me a bloody cough and caused my lungs and heart to stop beating since the force of slamming myself into the wall coincided with the exact time my heart beats, causing my heart to stop pumping and leaving me unable to breathe.
Fuck! I automatically held my neck since I can't breathe, but I tried nonetheless with no air flow in my nose or mouth. I kept attempting to breathe while the pain intensified, and blood flowed under my eyes. I Really want to cough, but I cannot because my coronary artery has stopped pounding. That's what I felt before I lost consciousness.
I open my eyes to see a familiar ceiling, probably that of a hospital or clinic. I can breathe medical oxygen through a venturi mask, but my vision is blurry, and I still have some aches in my head. I wonder about my stare while lying because the next sentence I'll hear is don't move, which I also know. An unknown girl is sleeping on my waist, being held by my hand. Do I really need to be injured in order for someone to be concerned about me? But who is she? I'm not close to someone with brown-black hair.
I could not see how she looked since she was facing my bottom half. I lift my head up and realize a rolled bandage is wrapped around my head; this must be for my forehead. How do I explain this to the investigators if they ask? This day was intended to be a day of tranquility in my life since I would blend in with others to avoid being found guilty.
Let us assimilate and draw a definite conclusion. To begin with, I have no idea who this young lady beside me is, and she could be complicit in what occurred to me earlier. For the time being, we'll suspect her since she could be the girl who spouts unintelligible enchantments as well as the girl who ran away in the door because, if I think extensively in rationale concepts, I am a fool for screaming and banging my door notwithstanding being aware that my room has been imbued with noise insulation magic.
Second, the moment I fell asleep, I should have been in my room, whereupon the maid or Ella was meant to wake me up because I had to go to school; but I have no memory of waking up or being awakened by our maids, traveling to school, or eating breakfast.
Conclusion: Because this girl is not wearing our school clothes, it is difficult to determine who she is. She may have put me under the influence of a figment, also known as an illusion, before I returned home, but her deep concern for me gives her a sense of guilt, implying she attempted her magical abilities upon me unwittingly, putting herself in a worrying circumstance, although it is also conceivable that she may have put me under hypnosis considering that I may have injured myself in a subconscious state of dreaming.
For the time being, I'll sleep again to speed up my recuperation because my head is foggy, and I could bleed in my nose and pass out again at any moment.