"You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit."

The words echoed. They seemed to bounce off the room. I looked up at the sky, an unnaturally clear blue. The ground below a dusty road, not repaved in years. The walls were the openness of the desert, showing very little. Visibility was perfect, but all I could see was the little Stardust Motel probably a mile or two back. The desert stretched on and on in front of, behind, next to, and above me.

I thought of the little CD still on the floor of the Motel, cracked in two, lying there, the little hole in the middle no longer whole. I giggled out loud at my pun. The Evidence written in thick black sharpie was on one half. It had survived the crack.

"I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them."

A woman's voice, soothing and strong, as if she were reading. The voice on the disc, the voice of my nightmares. I glanced again at the Stardust Hotel, due east of me. The little sign half covered in dust was invisible this far out. 

"Marfa, Texas," I started talking to myself. There was no better company out here, so why not? "Don't walk west!" I laughed out loud, no, it was just a giggle. "Like hell I'm not gonna." 

West west west I walked. West away from the rising sun, the sun now halfway to noon, the sun beating down on my back. I was just following the road. Just following the road in the middle of nowhere. The old, barely paved, dusty thing under my feet could barely be called a road. Maybe a trail. Or a path. Or a thing to walk on.

"Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing."

"No no no no no no! I know the price and value of whatever I want to know!" I shouted at the sky. Then I paused. Thump thump. Thump thump. Two heartbeats, and the sky hadn't shouted back. I wanted it to say something. Anything. Thump thump. Another heartbeat. Thump thump. Another. 

"Fine! I'll ignore you, too." I shouted up again. The sky continued to ignore me. I pressed on, feet scuffling through the thick dust below me, the dust that obscured the road below, the dust that made you think there was a road but there really wasn't. Of course the road was actually there though. It had to be. Why else would I be walking this path?

"When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance." 

"Why? Why does romance have to end in deceit? Why can't it end in actual happiness?" I asked the nothingness around me. "Why?!" The nothingness said nothing. "Coward," I muttered. "You can't even tell me about love and romance."

I kicked a pebble. It landed in the middle of nothingness, a foot off the road. The sun, right above me, glinted off it, making me blink and look away.

"How is it already mid day? Sun, you move too fast. I took my first step at dawn, and I swear, it has not been almost six hours. I do swear it, for I have been walking the entire time, and I can still see the little Motel behind me, and now, I swear, it seems I can see the little sign that told me not to walk west. Well, why shouldn't I walk west, I ask of you. If you can't give me a reason why, I shall continue to do so. I'm still alive while so many have died and sure, I'm willing to wait for it, but I did exactly as you told me not to, so why am I still alive?"

"Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul." 

"Will you stop with the madness? I am not a fool! I know that makes no sense, comparing senses to souls! Shut up shut up shut up!" The sun was directly ahead of me, barely touching the horizon. I looked behind me and saw a nothing in the air, a nothing so thick and physical, filling the desert behind me. I turned ahead to continue my walk towards the setting sun, but there was something there. A stucco building, planted in the middle of the road. 

I thought back to last night, carrying the little CD in my pocket, wanting to hear the evidence for myself. I remember snapping the CD in anger, I remember trying to remove the voice from my head, but it was still there. I don't remember the night before that. Why should I? It's not important to today. 

I reached out to the stucco corner plopped down where there should be nothingness in the middle of the thick other nothingness. I tried to circle the corner of stucco, but it was more than a corner. It was two walls, with a door in one and windows in the other. And two more walls making a full four corners. A wooden door let me into a lobby. A little, tastefully decorated foyer. A motel named of stardust, the rooms with little CD players in the corner to put the evidence in, to listen to the evidence. I got a room with nothing money, nothing money to pay for the nothing room service and the nothing little shampoos and soaps and the nothing beds, the nothing  laundry machines and nothing nothings.

The little room with the little CD player in the corner. The CD in my pocket labelled evidence that I'd bought earlier that day. The voice of my nightmares, saying:

"You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit."

~~~

"He was withered, wrinkled, and loathsome of visage. It was not till they had examined the rings that they recognized who it was." The woman closed the book, finishing the story. The person lying on the bed was already long asleep, but the woman couldn't tell, so she had kept reading. You could never tell when this one was asleep, so you had to be careful.

The woman exited the room, leaving the person bound to the bed to their snoring. She closed the door quietly behind her, desperate not to wake them up. At the office halfway up the hall, she rifled through the files until she found the right one: West, Ryan O. She flipped to the back, where the notes were, and quickly scribbled in a new entry.

'10/5/16 - Read The Picture of Dorian Gray again today. Fell asleep during Chapter 17. Upon the same quotes as listed before, would scream out questions or statements, mostly utter nonsense. Entire session is on recording if needed.'

The woman flipped back to the front of the file. A little crest and name leapt up at her from the top of the paper: 'Plymouth Psychiatric Hospital for the Incurable.'  The woman despised that name. Absolutely hated it with all her heart. To her, there was no such thing as incurable, only those who had more difficult to cure illnesses. But, she loved her job. She loved helping people.

~~~

"You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit."

The words echoed. They seemed to bounce off the room. I looked up at the sky, an unnaturally clear blue.

Word count 1287. Second entry in Nyhterides Art of Madness contest. Hope you enjoyed!!