The beginning of the madness

I stay sitting and listening to my dad because of the dangers of being too deep into stories. But of course, it was probably because he was a well off Businessman and was part of the library of fates, one of the most important parts of the whole town. but of course, it was not the first time he told me that because I always seem to have my nose in one book or another. But he was right. I should be trying my best to get great grades and to make the highest of my class to become the newest librarian.

" Ok, ok, I'll stop reading all of those books," I said.

After that, he seemed to be a bit relieved to hear that and got up from the big velvet chair in front of me. I sat in my chair for ten minutes until I heard the front door shut. It wasn't the first time he had given me this talk but I believe he's just being overprotective. Like what would make reading a book dangerous unless it was a banned book but even then no one can get to thoughts beside the head libertarians and even then they haven't been seen or heard from in years now.

I opened my book once more and started to read. I thought it was odd now when I reread some of the books about how the main character had the same name as me. And on the next page, she also had a fight with her dad. Then I read the next page and her father fell down the stairs. Then just like in the book I heard my dad yell and then thuds all the way down are 2 story houses. I ran downstairs and helped my dad to his bed. He was out cold.

I ran to the phone and call the doctor but he said," I'm sorry miss but I can not do anything to help you. I know your father was a great man and lived a good life. But you have to let him go."

I repeated what I said to him just in case he thought I was someone else. Then he said in a sadder tone," have you not taken your pills yet? Your father died 2 years ago by falling down the stairs. You called saying that you need help there but no one listened to you."

I dropped the phone.,"no...NO! This can't be true he's laying on the bed right now.'' I turned to see if maybe what he said was true. Then there laying on the bed was now a rotting body of my father. For the next week, I went into that room and talked to him. He was not dead, he was just sick. I and him talked about my mother and she came to visit once. But when she came to see my father she screamed and ran out of the house. Father would not eat, and many times men in dark clothing came to try to get him. Now me and father have many guests and none of them want to leave. A few months after everything I ran out of pills. The smell of everyone is starting to show. And the walls look like they have been stained by wine or blood. Dad hasn't left the down stairs bed in days now. I might...no he'll just say I'm crazy. I'm Not crazy! He's the one that's crazy can't he see all the people and my father?!? No, I'm not going to trust him. Though I do have to say that I can hardly stand being in the same room as all of them. The smell is getting worse and the walls now look black on where it was once red. And I know it's not mold. I went upstairs to get some books. Then I heard a voice from down stairs. " Come down stairs sweetie I have something important to talk to you about" it was my father's voice. I went downstairs to see if it was him talking. Then I heard a Caicos like his from up stairs though the voice was a bit deeper. Still I went upstairs and to the library like I had done many times before. I sat in a chair across from my father. My father in his big Velvet chair. He started to talk once again about the dangers of reading too many books.