The field a few blocks from my apartment has the perfect view of the sunrise, I think to myself as I stare out the bedroom window. Never in my life did I really care to look at the sky for more then a few minutes at the most, but something about today was different. I could feel it in my bones, whatever the fuck that means. It sounds like it would fit in with what I'm feeling, but knowing my luck with that, it probably means something thirty shades different than my interpretation. Oh fuck it, it's not like anyone else is Hunter Payne and can supposedly read my mind. I mean, where is he now, trying to preach to a SATAN!ist. Maybe I shouldn't have choked the life out of him...

Oh what am I saying? I should've choked him more if anything, it's too funny seeing him completely stumble around like the moronic ape he actually is. Well, now he's a moronic, Jesus freak, ape. Details, details.

"Jessica?"

I turn around and see Anna sitting up straight in the bed. Her eyes are fixed upon the window that I was looking out of, not even paying attention to me anymore. Did she even remember that she said my name?

"Yes?"

She jumps upon hearing my voice, obviously not remembering anything that happened merely five fucking seconds ago. Oh well, it isn't like she was going to say anything that was urgent anyway. I don't honestly remember being told anything important until after 8:00 AM. Looking over to the alarm clock on the floor next to the bed, I see it's currently 5:20. Yeah, she just woke up for some reason and was surprised to see me.

"Nothing, it's just, weren't you going somewhere last I saw you?"

Last I saw her...

Oh yeah! I decided to go out at like midnight, I've been doing that every night for the last couple of weeks. Kind of odd, considering what happened after my first match in XWF. Can't grieve forever.

"Yeah, I came back in at like 1:30 or so..."

That was a lie, I just got back. I'm seriously surprised that I didn't wake her up by opening the door like I seem to do. Maybe that's why everything feels different today. No, that's stupid. Why would not waking up my roommate who wouldn't know a decent night's sleep if it bit her on the ass denote something good happening? It had to be something else, but I can't really think of what else it could be.

"Oh. Okay then, I better get back to sleep now..."

It just hits me how wooden she sounds, as if her normally high strung personality was sucked out of her and replaced with a robot. It's nothing, she's just tired, I try telling myself. No, that can't be right. When she's tired she gets annoyed at anything waking her up. Her voice is all scratchy and she moves like she's drunk. None of those things happened. Something bad is happening here, I just know it.

I walk out of the bedroom, but on the way I see something that just looks, off. A shadow runs across the opening of the doorway and disappears faster than I can keep up with it. Stepping into the main room, I look around the room for the shadow that doesn't show itself again. There's nothing there, I'm just crazy. That's been my excuse as of late, after all this isn't the first time I've seen this fucking thing.

A shadow of what appears to be a small animal, or a child crawling on all fours. It rushes from my peripheral vision and disappears before I can turn around normally, although this time it ran right in front of me. It's been bothering me for days now, I just need something to get my mind off of it. My head begins to hurt, and I feel as though I've just been spun around in an office chair about thirty thousand times. I stumble around, trying to find a place to sit. One step I take, I end up crossing my legs, tripping over my own feet. I land with a loud bang, surely enough to wake up Anna, fuck that would wake me up!

I don't hear a thing from her room, not even a stir. Yeah, something is really wrong with this scenario. The shadow appears again, running inches away from my face. All it was, was a shadow. I could feel a rush of air hit my face as it passed, but nothing was physically there.

Nothing.

Was.

There.

This, patch of floor, is, comfortable. I think I'll just, sleep, here...

Hours Later

The floor is still where I lay when I regain consciousness. Nothing looks wrong about the apartment, which I find to be a good sign. The sunlight poking through the windows assures me that I was out for a long while. Looking over to the bedroom, Anna isn't there. She must've gone to work while I was out. I see that video camera on the floor again, just like last week. Once again, just like last week, the only thing I can think of is to pick it up and turn it on. First, I got to get up, which is going to be a task in and of itself.

I push the floor with my hands, forcing myself upwards onto my knees. From there, I force my legs straight. There, I'm up. Maybe this won't be so hard. Walking slowly as to not lose my balance, I step to the camera. Reaching down, I can't help but notice the weird marking on the side of the camera. It looks almost like the shadow! I want to put the camera down, but I just can't. Why? What the fuck is going on?

My finger pushes the button on the camera, turning it on. Oh God, why? The same finger then pushes the record button. This isn't going to end well...

"Hey John, what's up?"

Going after John Austin? This is a little weird.

"So, does one reference to Kurt Cobain mean I worship him now? The whole wise ass way of insulting people doesn't really work for you. Don't quit your day job, of being a 'wrestler'. You can't really speak to save your life."

Why am I even talking?

"Seriously, it's like someone just walked out and sucked the charisma out of you and replaced with whatever it is you are. Boring, wooden, and completely life less. Honestly, there's more excitement at an Alzheimer's home than in any of your promos. And as for you being a 'wrestler'? Guess what, I'm going to let you in on a little secret.

Are you ready?

WE'RE ALL WRESTLERS, idiot.

You can say this is going to be a bloodbath or whatever stupid shit you claim it is, but at the end of the day it's still a wrestling match. You can whine about how the cell is going to make you piss yourself, complain about how Feder and Dean are psychos who can and most certainly will fuck you up. You can keep on insinuating that despite all of your fear that you're still the best in the world, as if those words haven't been used a million times already by people infinitely better than you.

Johnny boy, it would be my pleasure to twist your body into a pretzel, just to hear you go on and on later on about getting screwed. Hearing you still continue to claim that I worship Cobain when I've always been more partial to Pearl Jam, if you care to know, after you're forced to tap out because I'm hurting you too much.

Deal with it John. It's your future looking you in the face.

I would offer the best of luck to everyone else, but luck is for losers."

And with that, the camera shuts off again. What was any of that rant? Seriously, I don't even know where that came from.

I'm past losing it.

I've lost it.