Author's note: With this being my first pasta I ask that you do not judge as harshly as you would with the immensely more experienced next guy. Regardless if this is indeed my first pasta, you aren't allowed to take any of my ideas or credit even though I do not necessarily think they are worthy of stealing. Thank you, and enjoy.

Slowly Losing The "Touch"

Yes, I'm paranoid. Yes, I'm heavily medicated, and well yes, I'm aware of the side effects. I know that the medication would give me extreme hallucinations and even exotic dreams with the occasional forgetfulness, but I would have never expected they would be to this extent.

My mother usually works late nights at the studio as she is a photographer for an underground modeling agency that just adores working her to the bone. She has many cameras laying about her room - it screams, "Steal me," to the occasional intruder. We live in a decent neighborhood and even have an alarm so I highly doubt those cameras will be going anywhere. Tonight, I would be alone once again, in which it didn't surprise me anymore as I would spend it sitting around in my bedroom staring into my laptop monitor for hours on end.

I took the many precautions of locking my door and also my window, but also making sure my bedroom lights were on. I'm not scared of the dark, just immensely paranoid as per usual. After slumping into my bed's comforter and ever so patiently waiting at my computer to fully start up, I visit I must have forgotten to close the tab last time I was on it for it was already beginning to start a video, but this one wasn't one I happened to recognize.

Some information of the usual givens were missing, such as views and uploaded times. Strangely enough, this video was marked as private, but I shrugged it off presuming I had found the link of a previously visited site. The video finally started to play when I noticed the lack of comments and such. It appeared to be someone approaching a sleeping woman who had been dreaming peacefully on a couch. The couch, background, and even person looked similar to those in my house I soon realized.

"Is that... my mother? I murmured, questioning my own words before I paused the video as the camera was now looming over the woman. Whoever had been filming the video had such a steady hand as they approached with such smoothness that it could be mistaken as an add-in zoom effect from a video editor. They must have been good with cameras no doubt. I sprung off of my bed to look over the edge of the stairway, to see no lights were on downstairs in the living room, remembering how at least one or two lamps had been on in the video to provide the best lighting.

Slipping Into The Abyss

I slowly walk back into my room's threshold pacing my steps trying to hear any sound that may appear to be coming from the lower level. I soon dismiss the thought in my head as I heard no noises emit as that fact slightly calmed my nerves. I close my door once again and hop onto my bed to resume the video, seeing how the recorder had been startled after sitting above the woman with close to no camera sway indicating they weren't moving. The camera cuts abruptly as the person panics and starts heading in a different direction.

I open their channel in another tab to see that 99 videos have been uploaded, and that every single one had been set to private. I wasn't fazed by fear when I saw their YouTube username had been "Paranoia Paranoia." I switched back to the other video, being logged in on my account of WaxenWing I commented on it out of curiosity, "When was this filmed?" I refreshed the page to make sure the comment had been properly sent to see that a reply had been almost instantaneously issued back. It read, "Just now," as I then dismissed yet another incident as a coincidence as my nightly medication was starting to kick in.

Proceeding to watch a majority of the videos for the remainder of the night, my senses slowly dulled over time. Some videos were two minutes, others 15, and even one happened to be a half hour. Each video was the same as the last. They would merely sit there without a word, just watching, and then turned off the camera when they became spooked and ran. I went to sleep after working through each video which kept me up to an estimate of 6 AM, but by that time the numbers had already blurred on my electric clock that lay beside my bed.

The next morning I was greeted with yet another empty house. I went about my day normally until my mother burst through the door as she nodded me hello and placed a pre-written note on the counter and went upstairs shortly before slamming her door shut. I knew that she wanted to sleep as she had always given me that sequence of notifications too many times before. I slid over to the counter as I began to read the note, "I'm so sorry I'm late, if you happen to make any food please make me a plate and leave it in the fridge."

Unfortunately, I've seen this note too many times to count, but ever since I had started my new medications, my appetite has been unusually inconsistent. Although, I'd still eventually make her something regardless, but only if I remembered that is. I go throughout the day, yet, alone once again, checking Paranoia Paranoia's channel out of both dulled fear and curiosity that lay dormant in my mind.

The page seemed unchanged, as do I from the night previous. Every now and then I'd hear shuffling sounds from my mother's room. I looked up from the monitor in which it was approximately 1 AM when I heard loud thuds, but soon shrugged it off as nothing. I noticed a new video, in which was named "Finale." I clicked on the video with no hesitation, but this time the video had been shot in a poorly lit bedroom. A bedroom with cameras that lay about it, my mother's bedroom in fact.

As they approached the same woman that has been the star of the show for the last 99 videos, they slowly turned the camera around to show their face. A grinning face. My grinning face. I grinned to as I watched her approach my mother, starting to speak in her silky voice.

"For my 100th video I will close the curtains and go on with the rather awaited final act." My grin became even wider when I saw my face as I was brought momentary lucidity, as images of doing such a thing myself flashed through my mind and finally when the dim walls were painted in red. I closed the camera to cue the end of the video as I walked to my dead mother's room. From then I could finally lay beside her my own pre-written note as I carefully hid from her all of these years. It read, "All of those hours alone, I hope my face haunts you causing such an event to atone."

Falling to my knees, I laugh a laugh only I could laugh for. Not a maniacle laugh, but a rather sad laugh as I finally received the reality check that I had always been waiting for.