ASYLUM - (3) My alarm clock buzzed and I slammed it to the floor, apologising to it on my hand's behalf. I heard large footsteps, repetitively becoming louder as the staircase creaked. I heard a nose blow, and a deep moan from the useless tissue. A silhouette danced on the wall just past my door, I could see its reflection in the mirror. The figure stopped in its path and raised a phone to its face, answering the unknown dialler. It was a man's voice, with a clear welsh accent. It was my dad, definitely, for sure. He was talking about something to do with my mother, death, a gun and 'my bedroom table as it was the least suspectful place he could hide it.' He had killed my mother, cand was planning to kill me, for sure. I silently scoured the table for the weapon, found it in the drawer, pulled it out, walked out of the doorway, and pulled the trigger. I had beaten him at his own game, for sure. He was trying to control me, always, my emotions, my behaviour - I could no longer be under his spell. I had stolen his magic powers by killing him, and nobody else has them - will ever have them - they will all be out to get me now, I must trust no one, I must remain alone, I will prefer to be alone, I do prefer to be alone, I must remain alone - I'm sure Lucy and Charlie will understand. A knock to the door startled me, I ventured past the evil one's carcass and answered.