File :-(, x)
As I now well know, insomnia of such a magnitude only serves to exponentially terrify the haunted man. As days passed without a wink of rest, it began to change. Its eyes seemed to deepen. Even glancing near those obsidian jewels brought a total loss of any positive thought, any hope of life, or happiness, as if the very earth I stood upon was torn out from under me and I was cast into nothingness to float forever. Its mouth grew. How, I couldn't fathom. It already took up more than half of its grotesque face, yet it now seemed to fill my vision, no matter where I looked, no matter how much I tried to avoid it, even when I closed my eyes, I could see its flagitious smile, ever mocking me. My despair consumed me, and I looked directly into its eyes.
My very soul was ripped out, I fell, fell through nothingness. Fell
and awoke. I was in my garden, sun blazing overhead, with the demon nowhere to be seen. I took a step --- no drum! Was I finally free of this nightmare? I reckoned I should go to a psychologist, a priest, someone, anyone, to try and figure out what had haunted me so. As I walked through town, no one looked at me. It was as if they stared through me, as if I wasn't even there. I nearly ran into a young woman, stepping aside at the last moment. As I turned back to apologize, she fell to the ground, a look of indescribable terror adorning her pretty face. I tried to speak, to ask what it was she had seen, but no words came. No one looked; no one noticed me, or the now burning woman lying on the ground. I ran. I ran and ran until I reached my home. I burst in, looking for a mirror. I reached my bedchambers, gazed into the soul-piercing glass, and saw the face of Hell, and that same infernal drum.