The Mind That Crumbled

By I.Azlan

Liam's mind crumbles under a relentless onslaught of nightmares. Haunted by terrifying visions of a woman he doesn't know, he becomes consumed by a desperate quest for her identity. But as his world unravels and reality fractures, the line between nightmare and waking life blurs. Could the answer to her disappearance lie within the darkness of his own mind, or is his obsession leading him towards something far more sinister?

• Language: English
• Publisher: I.Azlan
• Release date: Mar 24, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224171927

Book preview

I 

Every fluorescent bulb in the grocery store stabbed at my brain. Just get the damn milk, Liam. Not hard, right? Two percent? Whole? Organic? It's milk, for god's sake. Do cows know the difference? Why so many choices? Sweat trickled down my temple. I could feel eyes on me. Judging. Whispering. The old lady behind me cleared her throat, way too loud. Was it on purpose? Focus, idiot. Get. The. Milk.

One step, another. The dairy case was a monstrous wall of white. Vitamin D, lactose-free, almond-freaking-milk... My hands went clammy. Why was this happening? I came here every week. I knew where the... Wait. Was that hand sanitizer? A new brand? I stared. They always changed things, moved them, just to mess with me, I swear.

My breath hitched. Someone was behind me, too close. They'd noticed me staring. Noticed the sweat, the shaking hands. They knew. They were laughing. Stop it. Just buy the milk and get the hell out.

Which one? Two percent? Wasn't that the one the doctor...no, don't think about that. Focus. A blue carton caught my eye, a splash of color against all the white, just sitting there, waiting. Perfect. I grabbed it, relief flooding through me. Finally, a win. Then I saw the date.

Expired. Of course.

The expired milk felt like a dead weight in my hand. Useless, poisoned, just like me. I couldn't go back in there. Not with them watching, waiting for me to screw up again. I shoved the carton back on the shelf, not even caring where it landed. Maybe someone else would buy it, someone as pathetic as me.

The checkout beeped like a siren as I fled. Should've used the self-checkout, less human interaction, but my hands were still shaking too badly. I fumbled with my wallet, dropping my card twice while the cashier stared. Her eyes narrowed – accusing. I mumbled an apology, snatched my meager bag of groceries, and bolted out the door.

The cool air should have felt good, but my skin burned. Everyone on the street was staring. Pointing. I swear I could hear their whispers. Loser. Freak. I ducked my head, clutching the grocery bag tight to my chest like it was a shield. Just get home. Get inside. Be safe.

But the walk home was an obstacle course. The old man with the twitching eye who always sat on the bench – he definitely knew what I'd done. I changed directions, cut through an alley, the damp brick walls closing in. And that dog barking at the fence – was it laughing at me?

By the time I reached my apartment building, I was drenched in sweat, gasping for breath. I fumbled with the keys, finally bursting into the dim safety of my living room and slamming the door.

Safe. For now.

The kettle shrieked, jolting me back to reality. Just tea. Earl Grey, two sugars. The same routine I'd done a thousand times. My hands finally steadied as I poured the hot water, the familiar scent bringing a tiny sliver of comfort.

The TV remote lay on the couch like a lifeline. I flicked it on, the mindless chatter of a sitcom filling the silence. Bad jokes, canned laughter...blessed, blessed normalcy. I sank onto the sofa, sipping my tea, forcing my gaze to stay on the screen.

Focus on the stupid show. Ignore the prickling on your skin, the racing thoughts trying to break through the facade