05 Track 5

I'm in bed, staring at the ceiling. Wow... Why am I in my room? I don't know. The calendar! I check it out. June 6, 2006. This must be one hell of a day. I can't remember anything 24 hours back. Crap!... I look at my watch. 1:37. I look outside. The sky displayed a dark orange tint. Dawn. Shit! Why the fuck am I awake at dawn?! Wow... I usually wake up at one in the afternoon and any earlier than that is nothing short of a fucked up miracle. And God! Am I tired or what? Hell! If I'm tired, then I didn't get any damn sleep at all! Wait. I don't remember not being able to sleep. Or do I?...

Come to think of it, I've been insomniac for like six days now. No, six weeks? Six months maybe? Wow... How is it that I can't remember anything?! Crap. I need sleep. No, I want to sleep! And to do that I need some milk, "MOM!! I CAN'T SLEEP! GIVE ME A GLASS OF MILK!!! MOOOM!!! FUCKING TIRED HERE!!!" Shit. The bitch is dead asleep. This sucks. I'm getting my own milk. I stand up to leave my room. Fuck.

What the hell?! The floor's all wet! God, this is gross. What in the world is this? Spit? Paint? Hell, my clothes are soaked in the stuff! Dammit!... Why am I still wearing my school clothes? What happened this evening anyway? Man, this stuff is thick! Shit. I'm getting my milk!

I start to feel my way through the darkness. Too troublesome to turn the lights on. I leave my room and start down the stairs.God, the stuff's everywhere! I walk across our living room. Wait, someone's lying on the floor next to the sofa. Not bothering to go near, I squint my eyes to get a clear view. Shit. Who is that? The hell! I'm getting my milk and my sleep.

Finally, I'm in the kitchen! That took a lot longer than I fucking thought. I open the fridge and look for the pitcher where the milk usually is. What's that in the pitcher? Something huge and round was floating inside. Shit. I don't fucking care anymore! I just wanna get some sleep. After taking the pitcher, I grab a glass and pour in the milk. I start drinking. Wow... This milk's pretty thick. It's kind of sweet too. I keep drinking...

"AAAAAH!!!" I hear a scream from the living room. I placed the glass and the pitcher on the table and looked. Somebody's turned the lights on in the living room. Then the kitchen lights turned on. Somebody small stood at the kitchen door. It was Lucy, my sister. She looked at me, then at the table where the pitcher and glass stood. She gasped and started to cry. "Kuya! What have you done?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!!" she shouted at me. "Lucy. Wait. What's wrong?" I walked to her. "STOP! DON'T COME NEAR ME! STOP!" she screamed with fear clearly etched on her face like a rigid mask. I stopped.

What the hell was going on?!! I looked at Lucy, who was staring at the table, eyes wide with shock and horror. I glanced at the table. The milk. It wasn't milk at all. It was blood. The pitcher. A head was floating in it. My mother's head, wide-eyed and lifeless. I started to remember. Everything. It was all coming back in a second. What I did. Why I did it. When I did it. And how I did it... "Oh." I finally said, slightly surprised. I touched my lips, which was drinking blood a while ago. Still wet... "Oh." That was all I could say. I looked at the kitchen doorway where Lucy stood frozen with fear. I smiled. I remembered exactly where I left the cleave. I picked it up from the sink without even looking at it. Keeping my gaze on Lucy, sweet sweet Lucy; I started to walk to her, smiling...