As faces melt through the walls and cloud my memory, I suddenly remember the good times. The times when I wasn't haunted by things that never happened. Why do I get these visions of things I've never seen?

+

There was a dip in popularity, and then we fell and fell. The people who once loved us have thrown us away. Being in the limelight is hard when everyone is so fickle.

+

Damp seeps though the plaster, and the walls are eaten away. As the decay continues, I still keep myself wrapped up in my mouldy blankets. The ceiling collapses, and I fear that asbestos is digging its way into my veins, through my bloodstream. I run out into the street and cough up blood, but this is normal. I'm not too worried.

+

A carrier bag full of secrets. That's what he carries as he stumbles home after another night drinking. What he keeps in that bag is unknown to me and everyone else who passes him on the street. But they did find him dead in an alleyway in the morning. And his carrier bag was nowhere to be found.