Building 8 “Moving Day”
It has been several weeks since I submitted myself to a series of tests, with the hope of finding out what is wrong with me. For weeks I have been burdened by chronic migraines, which medicines seem unable to alleviate completely. I am tired no matter how much sleep I get, though the act of sleeping is difficult. I have been plagued by long periods of insomnia, and when I finally sleep, it is always accompanied by nightmares that I try hard not to remember. Above all is a terrible sense that I am being watched, and I have begun seeing a therapist in the hopes that they would at least be able to help deal with some of the issues without medicine.
The tests have finally come in, and the results are less than reassuring. As expected, my adrenaline levels, along with the levels of the various hormones involved in inducing REM sleep are all elevated. My MRI came back with “unusual” results, and I have a follow up appointment where the doctors involved should tell me what exactly that means. The blood tests and toxicology all came back normal save for the levels of certain chemicals, and the x rays revealed nothing. For now, there does not seem to a clear physical reason for my state of being, which leaves me with the psychological. I am…not ready to take that step, and for now I have been given a new set of sleep aids, as well as anti-anxiety medicines. They have refused to give me a stronger pain killer...they worry I will become dependent.
The only thing that seems to be help are my visits to Wellington Street, which usually results in the temporary reduction of my symptoms. With this in mind I suggested the idea of moving to Wellington Street, and the doctors think that perhaps the change in my environment may help. Thankfully, a small place recently came onto the market, and in between my own income and the help of my family, I managed to pull together enough money to secure a down payment. Before buying though I decided to do some investigating, since the price seemed low for such a nice home. It did not take a lot of investigating to find out why.
The home is modern in its design, utilizing long rectangular shapes of various angles and sizes, with a deep brown, wood paneling. The building is quite different from the normal aesthetic of the neighborhood, and tends to stand out during the day, though it seems to blend in at night. In the history of the home there was only one owner, and it was only a year after they had moved in that the house went back up for sale.
The initial owner was a husband and his wife, who had requisitioned the building of the home. The husband worked in real estate, while his wife was an archaeologist and recently retired teacher. Little was known of the couple as they did little to interact with the local community, at least when it came to the husband. They had commissioned the building of the home months before they moved in, anticipating the birth of their first child. Their neighbors didn't seem to have much love for the husband, but stated that the wife seemed friendly enough, and would often visit with one of them, asking them for parenting advice.
Many were unhappy with the home, feeling that is was an eye sore. In a strange way, it is the events that followed that silenced many of the critics, many of which felt wrong to criticize the husband after his terrible loss.
The trouble seemed to have started months before. The conflict with the community and the emotional tole it had placed on the couple’s relationship had apparently driven them apart. The wife often commented that her husband seemed frustrated all the time, and did very little to try and make time for her. She became known for nightly walks, and would often return early in the morning just as her husband would be leaving for work.
She began to look haggard and pale, though she claimed she would sleep during the day, waking at around noon. Six months into her pregnancy she began to complain about severe pains in her abdomen. She went to a doctor, but it was ultimately decided that it was likely stress and that the baby was doing fine. Time continued to pass, and her visits to her neighbors became less and less. When she did, it was not to speak about her upcoming baby. Instead she would ramble about The Biblical book Genesis, and about “Al,” who she said was originally intended to be Adams original companion.
Being an archaeologist, people assumed that this was just part of her studies, but warned her that she seemed to be pushing herself too hard. Eventually, her husband stopped coming home as frequently, and there would be stretches of time when people would hear little from the woman or her husband. She began to complain that the pain was getting worse, and eventually she set up another doctor’s appointment.
On the night before her appointment, her husband claims that he got a frantic call from his wife. She claimed that there was something in their house, and that he needed to come home right away. She had already called the police, but said she didn't think it was going to wait any longer. When the husband asked her what she meant the phone went dead.
By the time the husband arrived the police were already at the scene, though unfortunately they were too late. In the upstairs bedroom they found the woman dead, her throat deeply bruised. There was a deep cut in her side, and it seemed that her liver had been removed. Her unborn child had been removed, and had been placed in her arms. The official cause of death was strangulation, as it was determined that the other actions had been taken postmortem. The baby was alive, but died minutes after the arrival of the husband.
A full investigation was rendered, eventually leading to a homeless man who the woman had been seen talking to on several occasions. He was known to suffer from depersonalization disorder, a condition predominated by feelings of being disconnected from tangible reality. Unable to properly account for his actions on the night of the murder, he was arrested and sent off to the local mental institution. The husband moved away, and no one has heard from him since. The wife was buried in the local cemetery, and it is not uncommon for her neighbors to visit her grave out of respect.
It may seem terrible that I may live in a house where such a tragedy occurred, but I have to do whatever I can to feel better. It is the only home open right now that I can afford, and I am running out of options. I will be moving in over the following weeks, and I hope that somehow my symptoms will subside...I am tired of these headaches, so please try and understand...
I am very tired.
