Anna. My eyes slowly flutter open against the gray dawn that floods into the room. A decayed board of the wooden floor beneath me is the first object to come into focus. It had become worn and faded over the years of use, and my thoughts drift to the things I would need and the time it would take to repair the damage of age. I gently run my stiff hand over the surface of the board taking note that time has eroded even the texture of the wood. A plane, some lacquer, a sander -

*What have you done?*

… and probably a few new boards. Besides, Jared has been after me for months to get off my ass and do some work around this place, if anything just to get my mind off of things. With a soft sigh of reluctance to rise, I push myself up to my feet, and trip slightly over an empty bottle. Reaching down I lift the smooth glass container up, turning the label toward me as I notice that it's not completely empty. Jim Beam. Bottled this year. As I swig the remainder of the liquid into my mouth and swallow, I wonder if this is a good year for whiskey. Doesn't really matter though as all I want it to do is make that whisper go away.

As the last of the whiskey flows down my throat, I lower my hand to my side and allow the bottle to slip from my grasp. It falls the short distance and softly clinks upon the floor, my eyes following it as it slowly rolls a bit and finally comes to a stop. My head tilts slightly as my eyes shift around the room. It's quiet. Too quiet I think with a smirk. My eyes fall upon the nearby picture of Anna and Billy and the smirk fades quickly as I realize once more that it's always going to be quiet.

*Yes, what have you done?*

My eyes dart through the grey void to stare upon bathroom door as, for the first time, the whisper did not resonate in my head. A flash of streaming red liquid fills my mind, causing my stomach to lurch as a wave of nausea washes over my body. Quickly I run to the kitchen just in time as a dry heave sends my face into the sink. The odor of rotten and decaying food wafts through my nostrils and only makes the matter worse. I feel the familiar sense of my skin tingling as the acid churns and rises through my esophagus. Another heave hits me and this time is productive. My eyes close tightly as wave after wave of vomit splatters thick and wetly against the already polluted sink.

I rest my head against the sink after the last of the heaves has passed, longing to feel the coolness of the porcelain against my forehead, but feeling nothing. Slowly I lift up; watching as my reflection faintly appears in the window over the sink. My sunken and bagged eyes stare upon myself through the pane as I take a nearby towel and wipe the remaining vomit from my lips and nose. My hair is wild and unkempt, a three day shadow hangs darkly on my chin, and my blood soaked clothes… My god. I lower my eyes down over my body and notice for the first time that I am so caked in blood that my clothes literally stick to my body. Slowly I back away from the sink and the accusatory window. My mind desperately attempting to remember the events of last night as another vision of a cascading torrent of blood fills my head. I begin to hear the sound of droplets hitting a pool from a room down the hallway. The bathroom. My eyes dart to the door once more as it gives an audible creak, causing me to cringe and back away more. What the hell happened last night? What have I done?

*Now you begin to understand. Maybe you should call your friend Jared. Hasn't he been your crutch ever since the… well…accident?*

My skin crawls as the whisper flows once more from the bathroom, but I can't deny it's truthfulness. Reaching with a trembling hand, I take hold of the phone and quickly punch in Jared's number. The bathroom door creaks once more as the connection finally goes through and begins to ring. A second time. A third time.

My breath catches in my throat as a red pool flows beneath the door and into the hallway, striking vividly against the dreary grayness of the morning. It flows slowly down the hall toward me as the door creaks again, seeming to almost bulge.

A fourth time. A fifth time.

Where the hell is he!? Looking quickly to the clock I almost drop the phone as a gasp bursts from my lungs. Why the hell is it so dark at 11:45 am!?

A sixth time.

*No answer? Oh yes, that's right. He'll never answer your desperate calls for help again now will he? Not after what you did.*

As the whisper ends the blood finally reaches me, and I am barely cognoscente that all I feel is the heat searing at my cold flesh. Instead, my mind is frantically trying to decipher the whisper's last statement. The phone slips from my fingers and splashes into the river of blood swirling past my feet, still ringing. A vision of sharpened steel slicing through air and glinting in dim light fills my mind, causing a horrid realization to overwhelm me. But how could I possibly have done it? I have to know.

I push off the wall and begin to wade through the growing lake of blood now around my ankles, heading exactly where I did not wish to go… the bathroom.

*First you conveniently forget to have the brakes checked. Yes the other guy was drinking, but we both know who's really at fault, don't we?*

Yes I know. I've always known. Oddly I find myself wishing the old whisper would return, but something within tells me that's never going to happen. I trudge through the hallway slowly, nearing ever closer to the bathroom door, watching it become more and more distended with the building pressure behind it.

*And now you've gone on a one night killing spree that only the truly psychotic and demented could ever hope to aspire to. Your own friends. Your own parents. And now comes the price.*

My skin tingles as my body is filled with fear and revulsion. It can't be true. The whisper has to be wrong. But where did all this blood come from? How is it all over me? And the visions are resonating with a sincere ring of truth.

Suddenly there is a loud pounding on the front door, demanding entrance. The police! They know. With my breath hitching, I brace myself and begin reaching for the handle of the bulging bathroom door. Before my fingers touch the knob though, the door splinters into shards and bursts past me. I drop to the floor, splashing into the blood beneath me, curling up as I await the flood that should follow. But there is nothing. There is nothing but the dark gray void, a glinting straight razor, and the slow drip of red water from the bathtub onto the floor.

Slowly I lift myself up once more, my eyes transfixed upon the now visible gray body within the tub. My victim. Jared. The loud pounding on the front door has turned into bashing as they begin to break it down, but I focus my attention on Jared, slowly bringing myself closer to my best friend. A bright light pours from above, bathing the room in warm light that I cannot feel.

The front door shatters as I kneel beside the bathtub, using the bright light to gaze upon my friend for the last time. I had sliced his throat, and allowed him to painfully bleed and drown to death in his own blood. Slowly I reach forward, taking hold of his chin in my fingers and turning his head toward mine. A sudden pain aches in my chest as I immediately recognize the eyes. They aren't his… but mine. Jared's voice echoes through the house as the final realization sinks deep within my soul. I stare horrified at myself as a final whisper sputters from my blood soaked lips.

*What have you done?*

I feel the floor beneath me giving way as a deep laugh begins to fill the room. A cynical and triumphant laugh. I only now notice the bathing light as it recedes from me. The floor completely gives way, but in my desperation for salvation I manage to turn my falling body toward the light. In it's glowing bask my unspoken pleas are already denied, and I am in time to see Jared burst through the door and race to my corpse within the bathtub. Above him barely visible in the glaring light stands Anna, crying the last whisper I will ever hear from her.


And as the light is extinguished irrevocably by the engulfing darkness… I know what I have done.