PTSD by Eyeballs.

I usually didn't have any nightmares when I saw something uncanny. My brain just pulled me back to the moment where I saw that something at unusual times. I was scared of clowns when I was a kid and whenever I saw one, I wouldn't have nightmares. No. I would be just pulled into this mental abyss and then I would be scared shitless.

Once I saw a red-masked clown at a fair and got the jeebers. The next day when I kicked Rebecca in her shins and punched her in the face, in elementary school, because she said I had the 'cooties' because because I had smiled at James during lunch and so she told everyone not to talk to the 'eww' girl (I think we all know who the real ew girl really was, and yes I'm a petty bitch) - God, what is wrong with girls - and the Principal's secretary had to drag me to the Principal office because I was too busy throwing a tantrum.

The secretary - I hated her - also called mom to pick me up from school.

And out of the blue, while I was standing in the corner of Principal office, with the principal glaring at me, flashes of the last night suddenly decided to go 'hippity hoppity your brain is my property' and when I remembered the clown laughing, my heart stopped beating for a moment and then I started bawling my eyes out.

Yes, I started crying, in front of the principal, who was still glaring at me but was now a little bit concerned, and also a little bit smug because he thought I was scared of his bald ass - and at the same time my mama barged in.

Apparently the secretary lost her senses when she saw an angry mama marching up to her and the fact that she had to drag me previously slipped her tongue. And when mama saw me crying, she of course thought that the principal had, well beaten me. Threatening to sue the whole school, she took me home.

She was quite for most of the time when I told her that I had remembered the clown and that was the reason why I cried. Then, after about a week she bought me DVDs of clown movies.

They weren't horror, just clown related.

Alright, she bought me the 'Jolly Clown', happy?

Apparently she thought reverse psychology would work well. And it did. After watching that movie constantly for a while, I stopped getting scared of clowns.

So now, I knew what was coming.

PTSD, my sweet child, here I come.

But then wouldn't I have to continue whatever this was what I was doing? Even if I didn't think reverse psychology would work for me this time, I had to try. That was the only way to know.

Taking a deep breath, all the while when my insides were screaming 'no', I picked up the box, grasped the key and plunged it in the keyhole.

Please be the right key. Please.

It clicked.

Huh. That was easy.

But why did it feel wrong?

Adrenaline coursed through my body. There was something wrong, forbidden and alarming in here, I felt it in my gut. My instincts were telling me not to open the box. But like I said, I had to do it. If I wanted to get rid of my 'eyeballs' PTSD, I had to.

So I opened it up.

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Hey, I'm back. Been very busy with college. How about you guys? What's good?

If there are any grammatical or other mistakes feel free to point them out. Make sure you vote if you liked the chapter :) (ik it's short but I'm already working on more chapters ;))

Love,

Your writer.