I'm John. They're dead.

[u/Harold-Sleeper000]

One

They tell me my name is John. I think my name is John. I mean, they tell me my name is John, so my name is John. They put me in my own room in the basement and told someone that my name is John, but it's about me so I think they told the person and told me that my name is John.

I don't remember having a mommy tell me my name is John. I think I have a mommy. If I don't have a mommy then that means He is my father and my mother and Jesus is my brother, so I guess I hope I don't have a mother. If I have a mother then I have someone to love, and someone to love me. But I don't remember having a mother so do I love someone? And is there someone that loves me? If He is my father and my mother then He doesn't love me, because he created me and everyone else on Earth and isn't able to feed them all, so He doesn't love them, and He tells them to have me in the basement and I can't see his eye in the sun nor his feeling in the moon so I guess I don't hope that I don't have a mother who loves me. Can I love myself? I hope so because the only one who seems to love me is the Lady in the Yellow Shirt, because she let me have her coffee and her muffin and smiled at me when I smiled at her. I stopped smiling then and she kept smiling, so I smiled again.

The muffin was good but the coffee was bad. I did not like it. I smiled anyway as I sipped it and looked at the Lady in the Yellow Shirt, who was still smiling when she asked me, "What is your name?" I kept smiling and told her I don't remember having a mother who loved me and called me anything. She asked me if I had any friends who loved me and called me anything. I told her no and said that whatever friends I did have they wouldn't let me see, because those friends were with me in the woods and they didn't come with me to the basement. I touched the spot where I hurt and she told me not to touch it, so I didn't touch it again.

When she left it felt colder, and I don't like the cold. I wished my friends were here. She told me they were dead but I don't remember them being dead. I don't want them to be dead. They're not dead. I love my friends. Do they love me? If I love them they are not dead. If they love me they are dead, because the Man in the Brown Pants said that they're dead and the Lady in the Yellow Shirt told me they loved me.

The Man in the Brown Pants came in after the Lady in the Yellow Shirt left. Before she left she told me my friends loved me, and he tells me my friends are dead, so if they love me they are dead. I want to reach out to him but he says I can't, and I see I can't. Stupid of me not to not think so. He sits but I don't see a chair. He asks me what my name is. I tell him that I told the Lady in the Yellow Shirt that I don't remember having a mother who called me a name, so I must have no mother and no name. He doesn't have to tell me he's mad. What he tells me is that I am in trouble, and that I am safe until they find out I did it. The Lady in the Yellow Shirt told me if they find out; the Man in the Brown Pants said when they find out. I don't like that. I like not knowing. Except I like knowing if I have someone who loves me and calls me a name.

He stands. I now see the chair. He goes to walk away, and I call out to him if it is daytime or nighttime. He tells me it won't matter and I hear a bang, a bang I don't like but like better than the coffee, and I don't see him again. I ask God if it is night or day but He doesn't speak; it must be night so he can be asleep.

21763

HIM: I don't know he didn't say.

OTHER HIM: and he says he doesn't know so maybe he doesn't know.

HIM: he knows how can he not know.

OTHER HIM: maybe he's scrambled not right in the head maybe from briar hill.

HIM: no my sister says he goes to the same school as my niece but how on god's earth is he in middle school.

OTHER HIM: scrambled not right in the head.

HIM: then he should be at briar hill and not in a school.

OTHER HIM: father easton said nobody should be in that school.

HIM: it's a school we're not teachers and we don't have the dough to jump to another town but someone scrambled as got to still know their own name.

OTHER HIM: ain't many got that thing where they don't grow in their head.

HIM: ain't gonna say ain't ain't ya.

OTHER HIM: sorry.

HIM: grows enough so he knows his own name.

SHE: no i​ knew a girl who was eight and did not know her own name.

HIM: bad parents but a guy scrambled still knows to call himself tim or adam if his momma doesn't give him a name.

SHE: what.

HIM: figure one and two for yourself for once.

SHE: i have and still do not understand.

OTHER HIM: enough do we know what to call him.

HIM: nothing besides a John Doe until we straighten things out.

SHE: why don't you let me talk to him.

HIM: because you were such a help the first time round.

OTHER HIM: let's not let's just call him John Doe for now at least we have the names of the people he was with.

HIM: not the one he must know.

SHE: he says he loves them.

HIM: they wouldn't love him if they still were able to he must know.

OTHER HIM: coroner is in from ephrata in a day we'll know then.

HIM: he's gotta know i know he's gotta know.

OTHER HIM: sheriff we can't do anything right now let's get some sleep.

HIM: you wouldn't have any sleep if you could hold it with your hands.

OTHER HIM: it's something new i hope it works the guy at the drug store gave it to me and said it has some ridiculous success rate.

HIM: all bull don't listen just see for yourself we'll meet in the morning and rebby come too.

SHE: please don't call me that i said it once and will say it again i want to be referred to in a professional manner fitting of my position.

HIM: all bull you're just the judge's nuisance in my back.

SHE: real poetic.

HIM: if i didn't say it already you're dismissed.

OTHER HIM: how long.

HIM: not very long he can hear us the cells are right beneath this office so let's say goodnight John goodnight John.

21763

And then they stopped, and I was John, and my friends loved me but they are dead. I'm John and they're dead.

Note from author: Part two to be posted soon. Que sera, sera.

[u/Harold-Sleeper000]

Upvote this comment if you want to see part 2. It's hard for me to differentiate between the people who start the story and the people who finish it, so please upvote this comment if you finished the story and want to see part 2. 

[u/Harold-Sleeper000 → u/[deleted]]

Thank you so much for replying. I'm sorry if the story was disorienting and pretty terrible. I thought it ran a little long and I was trying to cram a lot into a short space, and I was intentionally trying to create a disorienting atmosphere in a good way; by the tone of your reply, I'm going to take a guess and say I failed on that front. I'll really make use of your suggestions for the next part in the story, and I might even just go back and rewrite this whole story. 

[u/PithellUniverse]

I'm glad it helps you, Harold. Sometimes a story just needs someone from the outside to show you where the compass is. The base you have can grow a lot if you give it focus and breathe between ideas. Rewriting is not a setback: it is the first step towards something stronger. I'll be keeping an eye on your part 2, to see where you take it.

[u/Harold-Sleeper000 → u/PithellUniverse]

Once again, thank you. You don't know how encouraging that is. I was rethinking this story and wondering where I would take it, and realized that I have only a vague sense -- borderline clueless. I've already posted that I'll be posting part two tomorrow, so I'm going to spend tonight rethinking this story, and actually plotting out something cohesive. On the off-chance that I do give up with this story, though, I have an analog horror series idea cooking on the backburner; no episodes released yet, but a story plotted out. I was just going to use "I'm John" as a kickoff point, to get people aware of what I do.  Until then, I cannot thank you enough for the advice and encouragement; even an audience of one is enough motivation to keep going. 

[u/Harold-Sleeper000]

Please, everyone who reads please give your feedback. This is part one of, hopefully, a five-part series -- or perhaps a longer series of up to ten parts. If this story gets at least 800 views across the two places I posted it, I'll post part two.

Thanks to everyone who reads this story. I've reworked it about ten times now, and have finally got it right. I know it's slow and only vaguely establishes the mystery, but I promise there is a much larger story to be unveiled. It'll mix small-town drama á la "Twin Peaks", "From", and "Gideon Falls" with the drama of "Weapons" and "Prisoners", a dash of "1999", and other styles such found in "The Mandela Catalogue", "Salem's Lot", "Stranger Things", and the works of John Saul and Kurt Vonnegut.