Forkface

The following excerpts were taken from the journal of Subject 237A, William "overkill" McCorkle. The contents of this journal are disturbing in nature, and as such, I urge you to proceed with caution.
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==Day 1, 9/23/2011==
Dear Journal, Mom bought you for me as a way to release my emotions. Doctor Wallace said that writing is an effective way to keep my condition under control... Anyways, today was a good day. We were let out of school early due to bad weather. Can you believe it? Tornadoes in September? Good for me though, the storms went south of here so I got a few hours to play Xbox Live with my buds. Well, it's 9 o'clock at night and boy am I exhausted. I'm headed off to make a pizza now. Until later, journal!
==Day 2, 9/24/2011==
Well, I'll be damned! It seems that I have gone and misplaced my favorite fork. I swear that I put it in the dishwasher after I ate my pizza last night. This isn't good at all, I am freaking the heck out!
This may seem like a small problem to you, Journal, but I have been using this fork to cut my pizza for the last four years. I haven't told you yet that I have OCD, but I do, and if I don't find this fork soon, I don't know what I'm going to do! Well, off to look... :(
==Day 3, 9/25/2011==
I hate to start this entry on a bad note again, but I didn't find my fork. I don't think that I'll be looking for it anymore, I don't want to get into my reasons why. I had a great day at school though, I was picked third for dodgeball in gym class today! Gosh, I had a blast. :) Our team won of course, thanks to me. I rock at dodgeball.
On the negative side, I got my report card today. I didn't do so well, I'm going to hide this from my parents. Bye journal. I really want a pizza, but no can do because mum and dad are at work and I'm not allowed to use the pizza cutter. I guess I'll just make a sandwich.
==Day 4, 9/26/2011==
Ok I really need to say this to somebody. I am scared and I don't know what is happening to me. I had a dream last night... a nightmare really, I don't know... a night terror is probably a better way to put it. I think it may have even been sleep paralysis.
I was just getting ready for bed, and no sooner than five minutes after I closed my eyes, I saw IT. IT was standing outside of my window. I tried to call out for my parents, I tried to scream, I tried to do anything... but I couldn't. I was frozen, unable to move my body, my eyes fixated on that horrible figure. All I could do was stare at it as it opened my window and crept in. As it reached me, I awoke. And I say awoke not knowing whether I was really ever asleep.
You see, I glanced at my alarm clock and it was 5 in the afternoon... I went to sleep at 9:30 last night. Did I sleep for nearly 20 hours? I don't feel like I did... In fact, I'm still tired. It gets worse, I felt a sharp pain in my head when I awoke, and I looked in the mirror to find three puncture wounds in my head. I told my mum and dad, but I guess they think I'm self mutilating. I have an appointment with Doctor Wallace next week.
==Day 5, 9/27/2011==
IT WASNT A DREAM IT WASNT A DREAM IT WASNT A DREAM THEYRE DEAD MY MUM AND DAD ARE DEAD I HEARD IT TALK! IT TALKED AND IT WASNT HUMAN OH GOD ITS HERE I NEED TO GO I NEED TO GO I DONT THINK I HAVE MUCH TIME OH GOD
==Doctor's Note==
This is Doctor Eugene Wallace of the East Chicago Mental Asylum. William McCorkle was a patient of mine for three years up until his death at the age of thirteen. From a young age, William had shown an affinity towards kitchen utensils, namely forks.
He had also been prone to violent fits of rage, occasionally biting his wrists until they bled. He was diagnosed with high-functioning Autism, mild Obsessive Complusive Disorder and although never diagnosed, he is believed to have suffered from some form of Schizotypal disorder. He frequented many chat rooms under the handle "overkill", logs of which show an increasingly deteriorating mental state.
On the night of September the twenty-seventh, 2011, William and his family were found brutalized in their home with no apparent sign of forced entry. There were numerous puncture wounds over much of their bodies from an unknown large pointed object.
William was found in his closet with a fork shoved through his right ear, penetrating his brain and causing immediate death. Next to his body were a journal and a hastily drawn picture, which has been disregarded as a hallucination brought on by the aforementioned Schizotypal disorder. As there was no sign of forced entry, the CPD Homicide Unit is treating this case as a murder-suicide perpetrated by William's father.
William was a good boy, and had made much progress in the three years that I had been seeing him. It pains me to see him cut down in such a brutal fashion. This news has hit me hard, I'm off to go calm my nerves with a few beers, and while I'm at it, I think I'm going to go make a pizza.
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