My story starts 10 years back. I was only 12 and quite happy. I’ve loved my age, home, and everything about that moment in time. I had many friends, always being supported, and applauded. It was the morning, close to the afternoon. I was in my backyard helping my dad with day to day chores. It was getting colder and my dad told me to wait for him inside the house. As I decided to follow my father’s guidance, I noticed something… A van was pulling up right beside the house across the street.

A man stepped outside; he looked around and went to the back of the house. I decided to forget about it, but still something seemed unsettling. Sometime later I was eating dinner; my dad finally came in to join me and my mother at the table. I was about to finish up my dinner but suddenly I heard the police sirens outside my home. A knock at the door, my dad answered it. A large burly police officer was standing at the entrance of my home. He showed my dad a few pictures and documents which seemed uninteresting and unnecessary. The officer left, and my dad closed the door.

He told me to go to my room; I told him I was old enough to understand if something was wrong, or inappropriate. He grabs the back of my collar and told me to go to my room once again. As I was heading up the stairs to my room I heard sobbing coming from my mother from the kitchen. I decided to ignore this, like I always do when my parents get in a fight, or some type of conflict. I thought that if I went to sleep that all of it would be forgotten. Still as I was 12, I wanted to know what happened. Did a murder occur? Could it be a wild animal? God knows what I was thinking back then.

The next morning I woke up. Everything was sullen and quiet. I looked through the window in my bedroom which was facing in a northern like direction facing our neighbor’s across the street. There was yellow tape at the entrance. The van wasn’t there anymore. I did see a police cruiser that stood right outside of it, and a cheap Toyota right outside the driveway. I shrugged it off and grabbed my pack and headed for the kitchen. As I arrived I noticed my mother was already there.

I could sense she was waiting for me. “Good morning mother!” I exclaimed. She was quiet. I was worried by her attitude, she wasn’t like this normally.

“Come here,” she told me.

I came closer and she told me that there was incident last night at our neighbor’s house. She told me that someone had broken in through their backyard and killed them. But it seemed that she was leaving out something, I just didn’t know what. She drove me to school kissed me goodbye and left. I couldn’t concentrate at school; my mind kept wandering back to that van that pulled up to my neighbor’s home. I felt as if I somehow could’ve warned them but I didn’t.

Why? I don’t know… As the final school bell rang, clarifying that the final period had ended I regained my life once again. As I finished talking to my friends, and exited the school I saw something that mystified, and horrified me. A van stood outside, facing the opposite direction of the school. It looked like the same van I saw yesterday… I went back inside my school and asked to borrow a phone to call my mother. I picked up the phone and dialed the number.

The phone rang three times before someone picked up.

“Mom?” I asked.

There was no answer; I could barely hear breathing from the other end. Suddenly I heard my friend John laughing. I looked outside and saw him walking right past the van. As I listened once again to the breathing inside the phone, it suddenly hung up. Then I saw my dad drive up, here to pick me up. I hopped in and pretended that nothing had happened.

The van didn’t move. As me and my dad arrived home, I noticed our second car was gone. My father told me that she had gone to her hair salon. I went upstairs to my bedroom to start on my homework. Something caught my line of sight. I saw a car driving up beside my driveway. It was the van… I called to my dad, but there was no answer. I saw someone look through the tinted glass windows looking straight at me. I looked away and closed my blinds.

I decided to call the police, for it was the only logical solution for me at that moment. I tried it 9-1-1. No answer. I was confused. How could the police not pick up their phone? Then I realized that our lights and phones were cut off. I figured it out by trying to turn on the light in my room, I flipped the switch and nothing changed. I made sure every door was locked. I decided to get some sleep and hope my dad would come back from wherever he went. It was a long time before I woke up, I heard something. I got up.

I looked through my blinds and the van is still there. And I notice no one is inside it. A door opened on the bottom floor, sounded like it was coming from my backyard. I hid underneath my bed; it was barely big enough to let me squeeze inside. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs headed for my room. Large boots were pounding the floors. I looked through the small crevice between the cracks in the wood of the bed frame. It was someone very large. I felt nervous, even horrified. I was probably as scared as a man waiting for his execution. Because I thought I was going to die. There was no way out.

He left the room and picked up something and lifted it onto one of his shoulders. It looked like something was inside of it… Police sirens wailed, and I looked outside. 3 police cruisers were waiting outside men coming in and breaking through my homes door. The man ran back into my room and saw me. I didn’t know what to do. He held something shiny in his left hand but I was too petrified to look at it. His face was scarred and it seemed as though he had no eyelids. I screamed. I could hear the policemen coming up the flight of stairs. He grabbed me and threw me against the floor and locked the door.

I felt a cutting sensation on my arm. “HELP ME!” I wailed. The man remained silent. The police broke through the door, I heard a gunshot, and the man fell limp. He was smiling… I heard my father’s voice come to me, but I blacked out. After I had woken up I was surrounded by foam. The room was large, and very soft. I was wearing something very tight

. I looked down and saw I was wearing a straight jacket. The only thoughts that were rushing to my mind were, why? I saw an entrance; it too was surrounded by foam. I heard something on the outside, someone coming down a hallway, or maybe it was a corridor, I wasn’t sure. I heard an unlocking sound, and the door opened, I saw two men in white lab coats.

“Where am I?” I asked.

“Come with us,” the men told me.

I was scared, but did what they told me to do. I walked with them passed a passageway full of screaming, and pleading. More and more people were looking from their cells pleading to let them out, and that they weren’t crazy. I entered a dark room and the door closed behind me, the men were gone. There was a chair in the middle of the room, and many monitors at the front. In the chair was a man staring at me. He wore glasses and seemed around the age of 40. He was a thing man inspecting me carefully.

“Tim, do you know why you’re here son?” he asked me.

“No, no I don’t…” I trailed off.

“Well I don’t believe you remember this, but you are a mental patient at this here insane asylum. You have a mental condition, in which allows your brain to recreate events that never existed. In your case it would be, from what you told me a large man. You have told me you see this van, everywhere you would look,” he continued. “You have been here for 5 years. This isn’t the first time I’ve explained this to you.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was scared, speechless.

Then all of a sudden, I blacked out. I woke up in this very room. Paper, pencil, and an eraser what was not to get. I picked up the pencil and wrote my story down, just as I’m doing right now. It already had a name, age, and date on it. It said Tim Brownwood, age 22, and it was November 28th 2012. I’m deciding to go with it, for I have no idea who I am, or what I’m doing here.

The room I’m sitting in right now has one window and a locked door. I see a car pulling up outside. There was a driveway and one tree; it seemed like the one I lived in when I was 12. A car pulled up, someone got out of it. My heart started thumping faster than light itself. The door was unlocking. It was a white van.