I think of them as I drive. They were my childhood, my best friends. To me family has always been everything. I love them and they love me. I am the youngest of three children. Kirsten is the oldest, when both Connor was born she just kept on wishing for a little sister. Yet she was disappointed once again once I was born.  Connor and her would always tease me as a child and if they were teasing me they were telling mom Andy did this or Andy did that. Always blaming me and covering their own backs. Of course they weren't that bad most of the time they were the only people in the house I could play with. So throughout everything we loved each other and at the end of the day we get along. What if they could see inside my brain now? The images of the dead, the dreams of murder, the thoughts that I could have never imagined before. Would they be scared of me? I am. Would they still see me the same? I don't.

The only thing holding me together it seemed was my camera. It has captured so many peoples life's, so many smiles and smirks. This morning my thoughts had clustered in my brain making me unable to think. As each good thought I had was coupled with a bad one, as I fell into a pit of my darkest desires and a darkness that had taken over my brain, the only thing that pulled me back to reality was that camera. The camera and its thoughts of the good times brought me back.

It took all of my might to fight the darkness latching onto my brain, but I fight, not only for my sanity but also to protect those around. I am like a star, from far away the look nice, beautiful and good even, but up close they are just a dead black hole destroying the ones closet to it. At that moment I had to get out of my house. I had to escape if only for a while. That is when I ended up in my moms old, beat up, mini van. Thinking about my family that had once used that van for everything.

I inspect my eyes in the rear-view mirror. Dark eyes, black hair. I blend in. I have the average height, average build. The same haircut every other guy in the US has. I even have a everyday name. Andrew. Looking at me you would have no idea the darkness that had been haunting me lately. Maybe it was good my siblings were both in college, they don't have to see me like this.

Finally I reach it. My second home. This is the place I can possibly piece my brain back together. As I open the door I feel a rush of winter air. I trudge through the snow. The sun is sparkling through the clouds. I have escaped, if only for a bit.  I near the swaying barn and reach for my camera ready to save this image forever. The touch worn texture of the barn. The wood is light, bleached from the sun. No longer the chestnut brown it once was. The wind is quick and whistles through the old barn. The snow covered pines behind the barn seem to dance in the wind. This was my grandparents barn. I came here as a child all the time. It's abandoned now, still it is the only place, now, I feel as though I have almost a clear mind

I slide the door open just a crack so I can squeeze myself inside. As I close the door and look around I notice something different, something strange. Someone has been here. The stool that always stands near the door is pushed close to the loft, the hay is disrupted and there is a leftover smell of lavender perfume. I feel the monster inside me once again. I want to run, scream and yell. I feel like I can't control it. I am all anger nothing else. I take a breath. The barn surrounding me really hasn't changed very much. Hay lies in every corner. Old barn tools lie about telling of the days this place was full of life. Wind comes blowing through the cracks in the wood. I close my eyes and let the cold wind stings my face. I start to forget the trace of the intruder.

  I focus on each bar as I crawl up the ladder. The loft is the best spot in the barn. There is more hay, more crevasse to hide in and snuggle into. I have a stash of blankets and books in one small hideaway. This is in the back corner of the loft. It is almost closed off to the rest of the barn, with three walls surrounding it. I had brought a small heater to warm my hideaway up.  I cozy into it, forgetting all about the intruder and slowly falling asleep.

          I jolt awake to the sound of a squeaking door rolling open. For a second I feel the anger again, this is my space. Nobody else should be here! I  almost bolt down to get whoever is “visiting” out, but they are climbing up here too. Then her face comes into view, my anger almost gives me enough to come out of my hiding space and confront her. Then I notice it, her face. It looks defeated. Her dark brown eyes are stained red from tears, her pitch black hair unbrushed. Her eyes are sunken into her skull and surrounded by a dark shadow. She also looks determined: she is here for a purpose, but what purpose? I notice the rope she starts to tie. I just watch I realize of course she is here for a purpose. This is where she wants her last breath to be.

In the past I wouldn't have hesitated, I would have went to her. Now I hesitate, just wanting to see. I feel the need to let her fall. That's the darkness though. The on fogging over my brain. The one that I can't let win. Still I do nothing, just waiting. She was so focused on her goal she never even turned, she never noticed a boy watching her. She never noticed me.

She peers over the edge, preparing herself. I want to help but the darkness holds me back. I feel the need to wait until she has jumped and her body hangs there, to even just move. She hasn't yet, why is it taking so long?

Finally she takes a quick breath puts the rope around her neck and inches toward the edge. Each step she takes forward I take forward. The hay crunches under our feet. Still she does not hear me. I keep drifting forward. Until I am right behind her. The darkness leaves my brain, for a moment of clarity, I have control. As she puts one foot of the edge, my hand reaches for her hand and pulls her back. It was a desperate grab, not only to save her but myself as well. I wanted to let her fall, at least part of me did. She turned and gasps only seeing me for the first time. I take the rope off her neck. Now she is safe.

“Why?” Her voice quivers

“If I had let it happen not only you would die, but so would I. Not my body, but my brain. It would mean a monster had taken over”

“But I don't want to live,” she states tears streaming down her face

“You should. You see this?” I say holding up my video camera “This is what has held me together through the last few weeks, I haven't used it but just holding this camera makes me feel better. It holds the good times. Not the bad just good. It helps me remember there will always be good, and alway be people there who love you. I don't know you, but I know this, there are always going to be good moments you need to embrace them. You will also always need help from those around you but never forget those good moments.”

She was silent. The whole time I talked she stared at the ground. Finally she looked up tears swam outside of her eyes once again, then with a hug so tight I couldn't breath she thanked me. Now it was time for her and me to both leave this barn. She had no car with her so I chose to give her a  ride home.
On the way we share stories: both good and bad. I tell her of my darkness and she tells me of hers. As I drive her home and we go back to our lives, I realize I saved us both. We still have battles to fight in our minds, but we were both alive. I think of my family once again. If they could see inside my brain now they might be a little scared but mostly they would be proud. We are at her house, she gets out and waves goodbye. I pick up my camera again, soon I will be back to filming.