Mad Mind

Sprinting down the deserted road Malcolm Fredrick clung to his suitcase for dear life. 'What has he done now? Malcolm thought raking his brains to try and remember how he got blood splattered onto his suitcase and the blood drying on his hands. Malcolm slowed to a jog looking around frantically for a sign to give him a hint to where he was.

It had been five long years since Malcolm had seen the outside world, it was new. it was exciting, it was scary.

Malcolm knew it wasn't home, no. Trees grew freely here, where he used to live the trees grew plant pots to keep it neat and tidy. 'To hide the secrets,' a voice whispered to the worried man, "Go away," The man pleaded looking around for a house to ask about where he was. 'You can't go round looking like that' the voice sneered not caring about the distraught mans pleas,'Now first you need to get cleaned up' the voice commanded, like always Mal com did what he was told. Minutes passed and nothing changed, Mal com was about to give up hope when he found a small bridge with a small pathetic stream running underneath it, "Is this okay?" Malcolm asked aloud to the voice.

'I suppose it'll do, as it is the first practical thing you've done,' the voice sighed sounding like a disappointed parent. When the voice was like this it always reminded Malcolm of his best friend Jacob, he was always putting him down and telling him what to do. Cautiously Malcolm went towards the poor excuse for a stream, bent down and gently scooped up a small handful of water and slowly rubbed his hands together getting the dried blood off his hands, 'You can thank me later,'the voice added.

"What did you do?" Malcolm asked wearily not knowing what to expect,
'What do you expect? I got you out of that dreaded place. You need to sort out your hair and your suitcase, we don't want people getting suspicious now? Do we? the voice laughed at it's own joke.

Malcolm pausing for a moment thinking of responding did what he was told and cleaned the blood splatters off himself and combed his fingers through his greasy knotty hair, "Are you alright?" a voice asked from above, unfamiliar to the one voice that bossed him around, "Oh yes, I'm fine," Malcolm replied flashing a psychotic smile the the voice's owner.
"Hm. I don't seem to of seen you around here before. My names Sarah," 'Sarah' replied looking down at the strange man,
"I'm not sure you would, my car broke down a couple of miles back. And the name's Jacob," 'Jacob' replied, "I know this may sound rude, but can we, I-I mean me could stay for the night?" he asked covering up for himself.
Sarah looked skeptical, but slowly agreed, she was such a pushover.

Hours passed and waves of uneasyness came and went for Sarah towards the strange man she'd welcomed into her house. Jacob still seemed to be fighting a battle in his head, trying to gain control over the voice which he was normally able to control, every once and a while he would mumble something to himself. It wasn't right.

"Right," Jacob began causing Sarah to jump, "I'm off to bed, night," Scratching his head before whispering 'Shut up!'. Sarah scrunched her face up for what seemed to be the hundreth time that day, 'Who was he talking to?' she thought whilst picking the television remote up and changing the channel to the late night news, "Hello, and welcome to BBC news at ten 'o clock I'm Jayne Horrowitz and heres tonights top stories. a man has escaped from Cyndonia Mental Institute after killing two of the doctors looking after him. I'll pass you now onto John Mayer for more on this story," the news reader said intensity filling her voice,
Sarah looked at the t.v. screen in horror.

"Thank you Jayne. Yes today at precisly eleven 'o' clock a man named Malcolm Fredrick, escaped out these very gates after killing two of the doctors looking after him in his treatment by bashing them numerous times over the head with a suitcase in his possession," John began.

Sarah shakily let out a breath, she didn't know she had held her breath, "Malcolm Fredrick has suffered from schizophrenia for over fiver years but admitted to the institute when his best friend Jacob Casey was killed. After being admitted into the institute it was to be comfirmed that Malcolm was to never leave the hospital for being too dangerous. If you have seen this man call this number and don't go near him. If you see him call this number now," The number flashed onto the screen aswell as the picture. Sarah's blood turned cold, Jacob was Malcolm. As quick as lightning she grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled down the number as fast as she could.

Her heart was pounding what was she going to do? Quickly plotting a plan in her head she carefully made her way up the stairs to the guest room in which Jacob or Malcolm was staying in. 'He would kill me', Sarah thought, 'I need to kill him'.

Slowly and quietly trying not to make a sound she made it to his room, creeping up to the man who was snoring softly, he looked actually quite innocent. Sighing Sarah crept towards the bed, she lifted her hands realising that she didn't have anything to kill him with, "Dang," She muttered softly, looking around the room for something that could be used to kill. "Aha!" Sarah whispered finding a pillow laying on the floor.

Gingerly picking the pillow up, her heart pounding against her chest she thrust the pillow against 'Jacob's' face. He began to thrash violently, waving his arms in the arm. Struggling to keep hold of the strong man Sarah was about to give up, flashing his eyes open at her in pure anger before going limp.

Sarah sighed in relief, but took a sharp breath in she'd killed someone. Her mind going numb Sarah made her way down the stairs dialing the number into her phone, that appeared on her television screen only minutes ago.

"Hello? I believe I have the man you are looking for in my house," Sarah said calmly, "I believe he is dead,".