A Letter from Patient # 66

This letter depicts the real events of a horrific night.

January 23, 1953

My parents were dead. I still had no wife, no friends. I was alone — like always. Getting fired from a job for being “a daydreamer” was getting too common. So, I decided to continue strive for bare minimum from home. Peace of my house with occasional peak through the window at the passer byes was enough for me. That’s where I saw him first.

He was standing midway in the street looking at me through the window. Even though, I barely knew anyone, I felt he was someone I had met before, and perhaps, knew him being more than just a passerby.

I shouldn’t have invited him in. He was who led me to do what I did that night.

That horrific night —

I stood by the street sign barely avoiding the dim shine from a street light. He stood in dead silence a few steps behind me. Mellow flow of rain dripped around the edges of my hat. It was a chilly night with the full moon peaking through heavy clouds every so often. I pulled up the collar of my long coat, for other it was me protecting myself from the cold. For me, it served another motive. I gazed at the neon sign blinking “Hot Coffee” on the opposite side as I lit up a cigar under cover of my hat. I wiped the water off my black leather shoes on the back of my slacks knowing that I was about to step into deeper water as I walked through the rain filled street. I looked behind me as I approached the other end, he was still by me. I reached the other side of the road closer to sign and stopped beside another dim lit street light.

“You sure about this?…” I mumbled to myself.

” — I don’t know.” I replied to myself.

“Listen, my friend — you can’t give up now. You have control, not only of your life but anyone else around you. Do this to let them know that you are the master.” He whispered to me in his assuring voice.

I slid my hand into my coat to confirm I still had the pistol. It was heavy enough that I could tell it was loaded. My cigar had burned out. I emptied it and kept it back inside my coat. From the darkness of the street, a car drives up unsettling the water more than now misting rain. I suddenly felt warm as my heart started racing from excitement. Car stopped in front of the neon sign and the door opened. I fluently yet slyly took the pistol out as the car’s door opened and

BANG! BANG!

Shot twice through the windshield killing the man. I ran through the street as I hear distant screams. But, then suddenly, I realize, my friend is not with me. I hesitantly paused and called for him

“Where are you? We got to go!! NOW!”

And to shock me even more, I see him going towards the body and standing next to him. I stopped and rushed towards him clumsily scoping the area. As I reach him, I couldn’t still see his face.

“Your task is done!” he yelled

“We were together. You being here could mean me getting caught!” I replied loudly, now pointing the pistol at him.

“We are not together — my friend. You did this for me. I made you do this.”

As I get more and more closer to him, my hands felt weaker and the pistol felt heavier. I drop the pistol and fall on my knees.

“Who are you?” I asked in a barely audible voice

” I am your master. You served me… I am Death.”

His blood red eyes shined by the grim white smile. He quickly turned his head towards the dead body and held his hand in front of his mouth as if he was draining the life out of him. Then, he quickly vanished —

— I opened my eyes in a hospital restrained to a bed with policemen by the bedside. I wasn’t sure how long it had been or where exactly I was. I did know that I had been tricked into a murder by Death itself.

But the judge took this story in a different manner and landed me somewhere I feel I don’t belong.

I write this leaving it up to you to decide if I was hallucinating or I really served Death.

Signed

Patient # 66