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Alright, I'll be honest. I know absolutely nothing about my past. Nothing. Not a single memory or even a slight idea of where I came from. The first and last thing I remember about my childhood is being held in some kind of plastic container, it was horrible, you couldn't move at all... One year later (or seems like it) I'm standing here, 27 years old, I'm living with a loving wife with two kids in this big, beautiful Victorian style home in the middle of the city. Odd place, I know, but it's been like this for a while now, and it seems like it's going to stay that way. I can hear whispers in the air, but I tend to ignore it.
My family thinks it's a severe case of amnesia, or maybe an early onset of Alzheimer's, but that's a slim possibility. There's an even bigger point to this pointless story. Weird things have been happening recently and I'm starting to get even more annoyed than I am being scared. I can never seem to change what I'm wearing, blue jeans, a white and black plaid shirt with black sneakers. Every day I wake up in the same clothing with no idea of changing my outfit. But every time I sleep, it's when these "things" occur. It started out simple, like a piece of furniture tilting sightly, or paintings and pictures being moved from wall to wall. I don't have a history of sleepwalking, and the fact that I can't even do anything to stop it makes it more "dramatic". I would also hear a tiny sound in my dreams, it would resemble that of gunfire, actually, now that I've mentioned it, I don't recall having dreams at all. I'm just in this kind of blank state or limbo. I don't see anything, hear anything, feel anything, or do anything. I just lie there on the bed until I feel like I'm being pulled away from the bed.
How did I even know that? My wife rarely sleeps, she keeps working even if it kills her. She'll stay up for even the most stupid things. I watched her for an hour, just trying on different clothes. She never asked "Does this look good?" or even acknowledged me. I don't mind, because it has something to do with her OCD, but I think it's just her being her. A girl. A girl who sits there talking to herself as if she was being talked to by someone. She did the same things every day, but with a different goal each time. It was really creepy...
She watches me while I sleep. It's weird, she just sits there on our pink chair staring at either me or the wall behind me. She told me once that I don't move at all. I lay there stiff, and wake up normally. We've already talked about this, I asked her if she'd seen anything strange. She looked at me, bewildered as if she didn't understand the question. Sure, she seems to be moving smaller objects like cups and plates, but it feels like nothing has changed. With that, she left to the kitchen to cook dinner. Nothing more was ever said.
As days progressed, things started to get a little worse. I've woken up to a loud bang once, and it was the most horrid thing I ever heard. I woke up, but for some reason I couldn't move. It was as if I was glued under my sheets. The only thing I could see was shadows bustling and moving about in my peripheral vision. I freaked out because I knew what was happening. IT was happening. The whole shifting was happening. I can't believe I was right. The only thing that made me angry was that I couldn't see how it was happening. Instead of freaking out and having a fatal heart attack, I tried my best to go to sleep and ignore the banging and crashing, just in case it sets off "whatever" is doing it.
Nights have passed and it's worse than I thought. The furniture just didn't "move" around this time, the whole place is different! The pink chair is now gone, my wife's favorite wardrobe is blue and modern rather than wooden and traditional. I'm totally flipping out. I knew it would be bad, but this is just completely unrealistic. What made it worse was that she didn't seem to notice. Not even a simple, "Hey, what's this doing here?" She just went with it. She even seemed to like it and completely forget that she just lost her wardrobe that she had since she was a child.
I did some research and it seems that videotaping these kind of things is useful. Obviously. I rummaged through a box of old electronics and found a VHS camera. I hooked it up to a tripod, set it up in the corner of the room and readied myself for sleep. As I moved into bed, I hit my head on something. It was some kind of cylinder covered by the wall paper. Along with it, there was this thin crack adjacent with it that ran all the way around the room, stretching from the top of the cylinder, wrapping around the room, and meeting it back at the bottom... In between was just a small little strip of light. I tried hard to see what was on the other side, but it was too thin to even see anything at all. I peeled the wall paper back and it seemed liked it was some kind of hinge mechanism, except it was 5x the size of the door hinges we had. I was slightly startled, but it was night, and it's never a good idea to investigate about this in the night.
Crashing. Banging. Screeching. It's happening. Yes. This little shit is going to get caught (excuse my language, I'm just so excited). Why am I not scared? Because it's been happening ever since I've lived here and I've never been harmed by it. Why would it harm me now? It ran its usual course. Shadows flashing all over the place and what not. The only thing different was that it went on longer than usual, and ended with a really loud noise. I think it even shook the house, and I heard what I believe was a little girl talking about dropping something, but I think it was just me being cooped up for so long in the bed.
Morning. Finally. I sprung out of bed and went right over to the... where is it? WHERE'S THE CAMERA? OH GOD DAMMIT. IT WAS SHIFTED AROUND. WHY? WHY, WHY, WHY?
I look around and nothing has changed, just shifted really badly this time. Some things are turned over and even stacked on top of each other. How did it just become less dramatic, yet more aggravated? (If that makes sense) I ran around to try and find my wife, but she wasn't around. The care is gone. Oh thank god, she's just running some errands. The only thing I noticed was that, well, there were no roads. It was just me, the surrounding green lawn that meet with a brown patch of giant bushes that stretched on for a long distance and looked like plastic wire wrapped in a tight coil, and a driveway that led to the big land patch of big, brown bushes. Once in a while you could see odd little pellets that looked like bloated pieces of food. When I say bloated, I mean 10x the size of regular food.
I've finally found the damn camera! It was lodged in between the fridge and the wardrobe. Jeez. This must have been more than just shifting. It had to at least have been a large tremor or something, yet nothing was damaged at all. It was all spic-and-span. Not even a tiny little scratch or break. Even the glass, which was all over the cabinets. It was all fine. Maybe the tapes will have an answer.
I popped the tape out of the camera and into the VCR player it goes. I pressed play but nothing happened. The TV screen was blank, and stayed that way. What the hell? I spent good money on that camera! Wait, no I didn't. Did I? I'm really starting to be forgetful. In fact, since I can remember, I CAN'T remember my childhood. All I remember is me being in a plastic box and BAM, I'm here in this modern condo here in the middle of the forest with my girlfriend and four kids. Odd place, I know, but it's been like this for a while now, and it seems like it's going to stay that way. Weird things are happening though, and I can never seem to change out of my outfit, which consists of brown khakis, a blue dress shirt and black dress shoes. Sometimes I hear a little girl giggling with my girlfriend as she prances around in clothes and cooks, but I just ignore it half the time.