Page One.

Verisimilitude 

noun

1. the appearance or semblance of truth; likelihood; probability:

2. something, as an assertion, having merely the appearance of truth.

The Beginning

He was alone again. Waking up to a sweat that would get any normal person drunk on the smell alone. It had been at least a month since his last sober thought, although, no one could be sure how much time had been lost. Leaving the studio apartment at this point was completely out of the question. He knew he would die at some point, but that was the only certainty he had.

He needed to get out, but the thought of actually leaving the sanctuary in which he created made his head begin to spin. Trying to breathe with his heart starting to beat out of his chest. The kind of pulse you can feel in your ears. Shutting his eyes so tight he might lose them in the back of his skull. Everything whirled as the screeching pierced his ears.

Then it was over.

Nothing but silence and some hairs that he had pulled out dying in his hands. Pinching one of the hairs as if trying to squeeze the last bit of life out of it he started to see a little more clearly. His mind started to wake up and begin to make big plans, things to do, lives to live. Maybe today would be the day that he started what he was always meant to do.

So, he grabbed his bottle of vodka, took a healthy swig, and washed all those thoughts away.

Maybe tomorrow would be his day. Before he could finish the thought there was a light knock on the door.

He froze in terror. The contents of his stomach rose to his throat so fast that it almost erupted out of him. Granted, it would only be a volcanic spew of acid and vodka, but he certainly didn't feel like cleaning it up.

Choking down the bile he slowly crept to the window and peered out the shades. A woman in a purple sun dress stood holding a manila envelope looking at his door with concern. When she didn't look so concerned she would have been beautiful. Her hair was dyed pink and turned up into two pony tails on opposite sides of her head.

Looking between the door and the envelope in her hands she seemed resigned to leave her cargo at his door and began to walk away. She went to a door across the small courtyard directly across from his. She must have felt his eyes on her because she gave a quick look over her shoulder and caught him peering out his blinds like a madman. Falling to the floor with his back against the wall his heart began to skip beats, although, not in the same way as his recent panic attack. He looked over his shoulder back out the window but she had already disappeared.

Every single person he had ever been within touching distance of he had had the feeling that he would rather be inside their skin than his own. For better or worse, it would at least be a change. All these people he would lock eyes with and swear that he could feel their pain, happiness, anxiety. And he wanted nothing more than to share in those emotions and moments with them. Yet, when he was as close to this woman as he was, he felt nothing but the butterflies welling up beside his heart.

He suddenly felt as though he lost some great moment in his life, then he remembered the package she had left. Taking a quick peek out the window one last time he moved to the door and quickly unbolted the three locks and snatched the package off the ground so quick that a breeze barely had time to get in.

The envelope itself was simple enough except for the word, “free,” directly in the middle with three crudely drawn eyes around it in no particular order or pattern. Some had long lashes and he was pretty sure two of them where left eyes. The back of the envelope was duct taped shut so he threw it on his desk and made his way to the tiny fridge to make himself a proper drink.

He welled up with excitement as he sat down and observed the envelope again. He hadn't been this anxious to open something since his fifth Christmas. He was starting to feel his hangover go away and a wash of energy brought on by his morning drinks so he shook the envelope next to his ear and made himself give out half a chuckle. Some small object was thumping around inside there.

After taking another drink he brought out a switchblade to cut through the tape. He was a doctor about to perform and operation.