Hidden Evil

The Hallucination of Max (Braxton)

I sat on the bed in shock. I trembled violently as I looked at the figure in the corner. It looks like Max. I don't know if it was him, but it looked so much like him. He had an angry expression on his face. No, it was more than anger. It was hatred.

It should've been you, he said to me.

"What?" I said back, my voice shaky and full of fear.

It should've been you whose neck snapped.

Tears well up in my eyes. This wasn't Max. Yes, it looked and sounded like him, but it couldn't be him. Max would never say stuff like that. Max was the sweetest person I had ever met. This wasn't him.

"You're not Max," I said to the figure.

It is.

"It's not."

IT IS ME, Max screams at me; HOW CAN YOU SAY IT'S NOT ME WHEN WE'VE BEEN FRIENDS SINCE THE f*****g THIRD GRADE?

"NO!"

Why would you say it's not me? That's not very nice."

"Because the real Max wouldn't say the s**t YOU'RE saying."

The figure laughed, throwing his head back.

You're so f*****g funny, bro.

Suddenly, the figure started walking towards me.

Did you know that I didn't die immediately when my neck broke?

I shook my head, and covered my ears, crying out.

I was still alive, just not conscious. I basically suffocated to death. My death wasn't painless. It was painful and it's all. your. fault.

"Shut up!" I screamed and threw my pillow in Max's direction.

I opened my eyes and looked at the corner, the pillow on the floor. I sighed in relief, thinking this hallucination was finally over. I then heard a burst of maniacal laughter from the other side of the room. I scream and throw anything I can at the figure. The door opens, and Dr. Wicker rushes in.

"Braxton," he said, bending down to my level, "what's wrong, bud?"

I pointed to the spot where Max was currently standing. He stood there smiling evilly at me. I looked at this figure pleadingly. I want it all to go away. I want all of this to end. Why didn't the house kill me? I'd rather it had killed me than deal with this every single f*****g day.

"Make him go away," I cried, "please!"

Dr.Wicker puts his hands on my knees comfortingly.

"Braxton," he says, "it's not real. There's no one there."

I shake my head.

"He won't go away."

And I never will

"GO AWAY!" I screamed and covered my ears.

The evil laughter echoed in my ears; no matter how hard I covered my ears, the laughter seemed to grow in volume. I heard Dr.Wicker trying to calm me, but I couldn't catch my breath. Everything hurt as I tried to calm myself. My chest ached, and my throat was raw from screaming.

"Braxton, it's okay," Dr.Wicker said softly.

I heard his words, but all I could say was Bradley's name.

"Bradley," I sobbed, "I want you."

"Do you want me to call Bradley?" Dr.Wicker asks.

He smiled softly at me as I nod, whimpering. As Dr. Wicker left, Max's voice increased in volume in my head. I paced around the room, screaming and begging him to leave me alone. I lost time and don't know how long I walked and cried. I heard a cough and turned my head toward the noise source. It's Bradley.

"Bradley!" I screamed as I ran towards my friend.

I grabbed onto his arms, not caring if I was squeezing too hard.

"Bradley!" I screamed, "I saw him! I saw him!"

"Braxton," Bradley says, "take a deep breath; who did you see?"

"Max," Braxton says, "I saw Max! I saw him! Please believe me!"

Bradley wraps me in a tight embrace, and I cry loudly into his chest. Eventually, I felt like I had run out of tears to cry and calmed down. I took some deep breaths before removing myself from Bradley's embrace. I walked towards my bed and sat on it. I run my fingers through my hair as I breathed heavily. I'm so tired. Bradley grabbed the nearby desk chair and sat in front of me. Dr.Wicker slowly walked in and made his way toward us.

"It's okay, Braxton," the doctor reassured me, "we believe you. Can you tell us what Max did or said?"

I took a deep breath before telling the two what I had seen and heard.

"It looked like Max, but the words he spoke weren't things Max would say."

"What did he say?" Bradley asked me.

My hands trembled, and my chest tightened. I took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in my throat. It took a few moments for me to get the words out, but they came out shaky and in a stammer once I did.

"He said everything was my fault. He said it should've been me whose neck snapped. The real Max wouldn't say anything like that, but it LOOKED like the real Max. I don't know what to think anymore."

The rest of my words came out in pitiful, pathetic sobs. I tried to stop my cries, but I couldn't. Max died a painful, agonizing death because of me. I'd hoped it was painless, but hearing that figure say that has me thinking. Max f*****g suffocated on his own air? I can't bear to think of that. It was my fault. f**k. Max's final moments were in agonizing pain; there's nothing I can do to change that. I felt the tears return. I wrapped my hands around my head and let my cries out. Bradley quickly hugged me, and I fell into his comforting embrace. I can't do this anymore. I'm so exhausted. The constant voices and what I hear have left me with headaches. I don't know how much longer I can last. Bradley is the only one keeping my sanity together by a thread, but it feels like it is fraying.