Henry watched Camille leave through the front door through swollen eyes. He wasn't even aware that it had been morning, until he noticed the rays of sunshine breaking through the blinds on his window. Somehow he managed to talk through most of the night, his mind feeling numb from exposing himself like that to another human being. He went to grab another cigarette not realizing that he smoked all of them last night. As he fumbled through his pockets searching for his smokes, his eyes ended up staring at the spot where he had spent with Camille.
"I'm such a idiot." He mumbled in embarrassment, realizing he acted like a child dumping his problems on a complete stranger. He hadn't realized how far he had fallen, until he spilled his soul on someone he just met at a bar. He did feel something in that brief moment, but she hardly spoke a word to him. Maybe it was all in his head and he had been imagining the whole thing after all? It wasn't like he had any concrete proof, it was almost like he was chasing a ghost or a person that didn't exist. But then what was happening to him? Why wasn't therapy helping?
The next several hours he tried everything to keep his mind from thinking about anything but last night. He started out trying to do push ups, sit ups, and even some various Cardio exercises. When he realized that it wasn't working he tried working on some of his paintings, but everything reminded him of the visitors he had seen in his nightmares. Their endless black eyes staring back at him on the velvet canvas, it was enough to make him want to smash the expensive painting into pieces. That was when he decided to go out for a jog.
He fumbled through his closet looking for his jogging sneakers and MP3 player. When he spotted his old footwear, he heard his laptop notify him of a new message. He stopped what he was doing to read through the message, slightly surprised that it was from that Space Chicken fellow from the other day. His motivation to meet her was diminished by the way he acted with Camille, he didn't know if he could trust himself to act normal in front of her. The thought of breaking down in front of another person made him sick to his stomach.
Not wanting to blow off Space Chicken the only connection he had left to his nightmares he replied to her message. " Hi there. I still want to meet up and see what we have in common. Are you familiar with that old record shop near the local community college? My sister use to work there back when it was called Darkside Records and Gallery. Want to meet around 8pm?" Henry sighed after typing the message and clicking send. Despite any apprehensions he had in responding, he couldn't deny the loneliness and isolation he felt being in the mouth of the insanity he was in.
He hit the streets with his MP3 player, working his way through the various back roads. He had memorized his favorite streets to jog through, it was probably the only joy he had left that didn't remind him of his problems. The adrenaline and music gave him a high that made him feel like he broke free from worries and troubles. Henry needed to jog until he was completely numb all over, so he ran until legs felt like the would fall off from the rest of his body. While jogging back to his studio apartment, Henry passed by a coffee shop and noticed something that horrified him.
"You have got to be kidding me...?" Henry spitted while he gasped for breath. The sweat from his run dripped off his nose and slid off his chin. he had to rub the bodily fluid from his eyes to see clearly. After using the sleeve to clear his vision, he could see the black eyes of the visitors staring at him from behind the glass of the coffee shop. He felt his hands tremble, this thing that haunted and tortured him stood mockingly in front of everybody. He hated this creature for putting him at it's mercy, every fiber of his being wanted to destroy it where it stand. Without a moments hesitation he took a nearby rock and smashed the window display.
"Come here you little fucker!" Henry shouted leaping over the shattered glass. Henry grabbed the little gray creature by the scruff of it's neck, squeezing as tightly as possible. The female cashier screamed bloody murder, while one of the larger customers tried to pull Henry off of his victim. "Get your fucking hands off of me! Let me go!" Henry refused desperately, they didn't understand everything these creatures had took from him. He wanted his life back, he wouldn't let go until this thing was as dead as he was on the inside.
"What the fuck are you doing Henry? It's just a kid!" One of the smaller customers exclaimed. Henry turned for a second recognizing the voice as his old publicist and friend Johnny Andrews. When he turned back to see who he was choking her was mortified to see it was just some nineteen year old boy. The kid sobbed uncontrollably while Henry released him from his grasp, moments later the authorities arrived in full capacity. Henry didn't resist when they hand cuffed him and read him his rights. He didn't a utter a single sentence when the press arrived on the scene either. All he could think about was how could he let himself slip this far into madness.