❝ I can hear your heartbeat, your scared, yeah yeah

I'll come back bigger, stronger and angry.❞

 

Do you think that fame is awesome? Popularity, money, women, true fans, making your dreams come true and all that shit. What a pathetic person you must be to think like that.

Unfortunately, I may surprise you but fame has drawbacks. The other side of it is like a fight for survival. Only the strong person will survive. If you have support from your friends and family, there is no option you can fall down. But what if your loved ones turn away from you? I'll tell you about it with pleasure.

Let's start from the beginning. Friendship. Do you know what it is? 

According to dictionary : friendship – is the state when you feel like someone's friend; a friendly relationship or intimacy, relationship based on trust and kindness.

Can you define your friends like that? If you can, then great.

No?

Welcome to my world.

In the world where I found out that friendship is bullshit and the trust doesn't really exist.

People, whom I used to consider my friends, sent me to Thomas Embling's psychiatric hospital. Yeah, that's right. They adjudged me as a sick one. I had problems with drugs and alcohol. Sometimes I crossed the line and I became agressive and hyperactive. They claimed it was not because of smoking or drinking. Apparently the problem was in my psyche. They said I was affected by “the dark side” of popularity. Maybe I needed rehab, but that's not what I expierienced.  Instead it was the hell you can't even imagine.

Do you have an idea how it is like when someone sends you to a mental hospital claiming that you're crazy, when you're not. What if you're quite normal person, but you're stuck in the asylum where everyone treats you like a psychopath?

If you think that going to the staff and telling them “It's a mistake, I'm not mental” is enough then I've just laughed at you, because you're so wrong. It just reassures them that you really need a therapy, if what happens during the appointments can be called like that.

Probably you suspect that I was at this place.

You're right.

I got there only thanks to my family and friends.

Do you want to know more? What's the feeling like? When a normal person is sent to the mental hospital, where he spends his time with sick people? When he's betrayed

by his own family and friends?

I'll tell you one thing honey.

Maybe you walk in as a normal one but I'm not so sure if you walk out in the same condition.  They make you believe you're mental. They create you as a psycho, a fucking psycho.

The darkness. The darkness slowly consumes you.

You hear strange, unnatural voices. Whispers in your head get so frequent and scary. Like the monsters, they come to your head and want to rule your brain and your body. You take your medication that should help you, instead it makes you even worse. You're going from wall to wall, talking to yourself and pulling your hair out. You want to drown out these moans, growls, words, and you don't even know how they reach you. You hallucinate.

You think “It's not really happening, it's just my imagination”

Yeah, that's right. You're going crazy. After some time you become aware of it, but you can't do anything about it. It's too late. You're drowning, you're going down.

You become sick, you become mental.

Let's sum it up.

Three months. Ninety days spent in this place, without the right to contact other people, without the right to go outside. Tell me what you think about it. Can a person with bad diagnosis leave this place healed after all this time? You probably think so.

“If he was good arriving, he would leave as healthy as he was.”

What a shitty statement.

I'll prove you're wrong.

My name is Michael Gordon Clifford. I'm ex member of the band called 5 Seconds of Summer and a patient of Thomas Embling's hospital, realesed three months after arriving. You, my dear reader, probably found my diary. You have no idea how happy it makes me.

Do you know why?

Because that's where I wrote down 9 sins I made after they'd realised me.

 

 

You can’t even realize how amazing feeling is being free. I treated mental health clinic like a prison. I felt like I was there by accident o r a type of punishmenti don’t even know why I was there. Maybe because my friends, family or employers were jealous of my big success?

 

Everyday my thoughts were focused on people who sent me here. Those people had a reason to do it. They forgot that evil will always come back. This time I am this evil.

 

I am back to pay back for the damages they’ve caused.

 

So as I said, day by day, sitting on a bench at the hospital’s yard I thought a lot. I created my revenge plan, I couldn’t let anybody live free, totally forgetting about what they did to me. I had to punish them.

 

When hospital gate closed behind me, seriousness left my face and I could finely smile. I’m leaving this horrible place. I exactly knew what do I have to do now.

 

I am going to explain to you what I did. In order to do that I wrote a journal.

It was 10 pm. I remember everything because it was yesterday. I am writing to this shitty journal every move I am making. I was going by bus, after three long months I was finally moving by  public transport. I almost forgot how it is when you’re getting more and more irritated by the traffic .James you stuck in or by a kid listening to a rap music without headphones. Though all this things I was calm. When this details suddenly disappear, after some time you start to appreciate them, believe me. I can even say that you’re starting to miss them.

I got off at the bus stop next to the clinic I was three months ago. White building stood out of the rest.

 

I put on black leather gloves and moved to the building. I opened the door and came into a mini hospital trying to look natural. I knew Hopkins is staying tonight at emergency departament.

I planed it for a long time I couldn’t screw it.

 

Behind a reception desk a young woman was sitting with amazing, blue eyes. She put her hair up into bun so I could admire her perfect neck. She was wearing a necklace with a ‘P’ letter. Is it a present from her boyfriend? Or is it her first name letter? Never mind, who would care about it. She has to be really fucked up to work at this clinic.

Keeping my fake smile on I went to reception. Blonde girl looked at me with her warm eyes and asked me a typical question:

"How can I help you?" Her young, even childish voice surprised me.

"I am looking for doctor Hopkins, it’s important"

"Were you appointment?"

"I don’t think it's necessary" I answered. "Tell him that Michael Clifford wants to visit him.'

Girl called to his office and told him that I am in clinic. He was actually glad that I came and he didn’t even knew why I came. What an utter fool. After our last meeting he should have hired a guard. Clearly Hopkins likes adrenaline. Ellie, because it was the name of this pathetic nurse showed me his office. From the begging I planned that our meeting won’t be too long. I don’t have a lot to say to him. Mostly I will talk and he will only listen.

I didn’t bothered myself to knock I just came into. Hopkins was noting something at his calendar.

"Michael, it’s nice to see you." He greeted me.

I took a seat opposite to him, his office looked the same as it looked three moths ago. I had a fucking déjà vu, which absolutely didn’t help me staying calm. When I just crossed the doorstep and saw his face and I heard his old voice negative emotions took control of me.

God how much I would give if we could skip this talk and go straight to action but no, I wanted to play like a professional.

"You’ve changed your hair color" he noticed "They were gray before, weren’t they?"

"White, they were white." I said. "They cut my hair at the clinic so they grown at my natural color, which is a natural thing."

"Oh, anyway, why are you here? You know, soon I’ll end my last shift at the emergency department so if you could be quick, I would be really grateful."

"Last?" I asked surprised.

"Yes, I’ll be working at day shifts only." He explained, standing up.

"Night shifts are awful, some people who come here are just…., eh, it’s not worth even saying."

Doctor took off his uniform looking for something at his pockets. He was looking for his keys or phone, i have no idea. But I decided to take an action.

When Hopkins turn his back on me I stood up and slowly started to go in his direction. My veins were pulsing in panic causing a little pain. Whispers in my head were louder making pressure on me. I took a wire out of my coat. It was really hot, even stuffy in this room. Like there was no air. I was standing close enough, just a few centimeters away from him. This dork didn’t even expected what was going to happen. I put a wire to his neck, pressing lightly. Man took a deep breath trying to catch tiny rope. I tensed it giving him to understand that I’m not in a mood for his games.

"Calm down" I ordered "If you try some trick, you’ll have a big problem Demian."

I pulled him closer to me so his head was on my shoulder

"You see, you asked me why am I here" I said in a confident tone, looking at the white wall "So your incorrectly request…"

"Mi….Mi……Michael" He was choking.

"You made a mistake… a big mistake Demian" I said. "Because you see, when you sent me to a hospital I was completely healthy but then it changed…"

"P..Ple..Please" Stammered man was terrified.

"I want to know how much did they payed you for closing me,hm?" I asked but he didn’t answered. "Answer me!!" I yelled tightening the wire.

"T..twe..nty." He said quietly.

"Twenty thousand dollars.." I said louder. "You sucker…."

"Don’t…do….it…" He bagged, while tears were rolling down his cheeks.

"I was expecting you will say it" I sighted "You said that it’s your last shift at this emergency department? Hm, I think it’s the last at you god damn life too."

I loosen the wire and then I tightened it again and started strangling him. He was begging for mercy, but I couldn’t just let him go. He had to face the consequences. He was trying to free himself but I was too strong. Anger in my body was giving me energy. My motivation came from the voices in my head, they were her all the time. I was in control. Hopkins was trying to call for help but he was out of breath. I was waiting for him to go to hell with all his lies and scams. I was hoping he will rot there, bastard.

He finely passed and his body fallen on me. I put it on the floor. I put a wire back to my coat. I looked at him with disappointment, his eyelids were opened. I saw fear escaping his eyes.  Red line on his neck was getting more red and visible every second.

I felt relief, big relief. I never thought I’d feel so good anytime. I didn’t fell sorrow or something like this. I was cursing myself that I caused him only a little pain.

Anyway I felt satisfied.

I squatted next to him and I closed his eyes.

"Sorry, well as we all know I am psycho"I whispered.

"Yes" He said shortly."It's for his good."    

 

Blood was everywhere, on my clothes, on the tool I used to kill the doctor and on my hands too. I covered my shirt with blood on it by buttoning the buttons of my coat. I was shivering because of the cold air. Dammit, is guiltiness starting to grow starting inside me right now, but why ?  

"He put you into a mental hospital, Michael" A voice in my head said to me being right. Such a fucking idiot, three months of my life ripped from me because of him, he deserved this death.  

I got finally serious and looked at my hands. They were clean. Pale, without any blemishes. I unzipped my coat. My clothing didn't have any marks anywhere too. Hallucination... it's only a hallucination.   The next person I wanted to visit was this omniscient Zack. This dick never wanted to help any of us, the only thing he was interested in was money. Everyone believed him credulously in every single word he said, especially my good-hearted mom, who I used to have as a role model in past.   Karen...stupid Karen. She believed in every single Zack's word, she trusted him so much. She deemed that a therapy would help me in any way.  

My own mother put me into a mental hospital, could you believe it ? Well, I could. I had some kind of problems with it in the past. At the beginning this thought couldn't come to my mind that this is true, real, I thought that this is just a stupid dream. No one has humiliated me, my friends and family were still with me and they still support me, nothing's happening. I was a complete jerk.  

The apartment of Zack Hemsword was located in the middle of Sydney. An extremly huge building with 12 floors consisted of the best flats in the city. I just won't say the prices of them.  

I entered the building without any problems. I came at the 11th floor. I went to the door and with some kind of natural grace I pulled the handle.  

Locked.  

A mysterious smile appeared on my face. I spitted quietly.  

It's not any kind of barrier.  

I moved the flowerpot with a huge fern inside, I knew that Zack always hides some extra keys to his apartment. He evenly said that during on of out meetings about the tour.  

I tried to cope with the locking as quietly as I could. I opened the door letting myself go in. Silent, despite some sounds of running water. Great, this jerk was having a bath. I looked around. There wasn't any sign of Zack's wife too. Sunday, so what attractive girl would want to spend it with such an old man like him. The only thing, which made her want to be with him was money, but let's admit, she wasn't the only one.  

I didn't want to loose the time any longer. I was walking through the hall looking for the bathroom where Zack was. He didn't notice me. He was standing behind the shover curtain washing his body. He was turned to the wall singing some cheesy songs.  

An extremely huge mess was in the room. A hairdryer was laying on the washing machine together with a roller, few cotton pads were dilapidating on the floor as well as some clothes of this jerk.  

He didn't care about any neatness, but coming back to the topic.... I hit on an idea, instead of killing Zack using, let's say "traditional" ways, I decided to be a little bit more inventive than usual.  

I leaned out a little bit, noticing a little hole between the curtain and the wall. The level of water was high enough to make my plan possible. I found the nearest socket and plugged the hairdryer in. I looked at my hands again. Blood in my veins was pulsing very fast. In a few seconds this typical hairdryer is going to be changed into a tool of crime. Should I shake off now ?  

Then they came back.  

Michael...do it...the hospital...They were reminding me like the best alarm with the "snooze" option. The voices were in my head. They were resounding, ringing, exhorting non-stop. My heartbeat started to raise suddenly and heart was beating so hard like it wanted to leap out of my chest. I'm sure that the colour of blood in my veins blackened as much as the iris of my eyes.    

Darkness, darkness tackled me again. Dangerous hotness poured me over.  Grabby hunger came to me so hard that I felt some kind of pain. He could easily disappear from this world because of this one, little, innocent deed.  

Michael, remember what he has done.. Somebody whispered to me. Yes,yes, remember.  

I squeezed one of the curtains and harshly relegated it. Zack still didn't notice me. He was washing the shampoo out of his hair off, having his eyes closed. I didn't want to stare at him, because he was naked. I lifted the hairdryer off above the water and waited for the right moment. I was in a huge need of some type of nourishment. I couldn't abstain from it. I started to act like animal that was followed by the instinct.   

"Hello Zack" I mumbled with a harsh tone.  

He turned around facing me, really stunned at my presence.  

"Michael, what are you doi... no....no!" He shouted.  

I turned the hairdryer on.  

"Goodbye Zack." I said, unloosing my hand. A horrible yelling pealed out, making my ears satisfied.

It was bouncing against my skin. With a huge grin on my face I was watching the sparks coming out from the bathtub and hairdryer's cable. Bickering lights were pitching against my eyes like in a mirror. I felt like I was on pyrotechnics. Zack's body started to look like a gum. He was flinging for a few seconds, because the electricity, which had electrocuted him, caused the paralysis. Finally he fell down on the bathtub, his head hitting the bottom. He was squirming inside for a moment. It was so great, nearly beautiful to see him in so much pain, that he cannot do a thing to help himself to get out of this. This view made me so happy. I started to feel the rising excitement inside of me. He was finally dead physically, but his brain was still working. I noticed this by his scouting eyes looking for any sign of help. He was trying to mumble something, but he couldn't evenly open his mouth. His whole body was giving up. I didn't make an effort to try to understand what he was talking about. I'd rather fill myself with all of his suffering, fear and physical pain. He fulfilled my hunger. I should be grateful.   

In a few seconds his eyelids were finally closed. Just after this accident all of the lights in the apartment turned off. Only the electricity was making him alive, so when the short circuit came, he left with the brightness..... I'm so sorry for you, Zack.  

I opened the front door, wanting to leave, but I stopped, reminding myself that I didn't say the most important words.  

"Sorry, Zack" I whispered "But as we all know I'm a psycho"