My name isn't important. What is important is what I've witnessed. They exist. They aren't just figments of my imagination. They lurk all around us. Nothing we see is the full truth. I see what others don't, and I've seen what can happen.

I can't stop this. My brain is beginning to break. I can't tell what's going on anymore. What's in this reality? What isn't!? I can't... make it stop... they think I'm a liar, nopony listens to me... make it stop, make it stop, make it stopmakeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop...

(A short story based on my own delusions. Losing a grip on reality is weird.)