Chapter 1

Matthew opened his eyes in pain. Everything spun in the world. It was like God himself was punishing him for the sin of staying up too late. He lifted himself off the bed, looking around. He didn’t remember entering his room. He didn’t even drink last night! How did he end up

*I believe now would be the best time to communicate*, a thought popped up in his head.

The young man threw his eyes around the room. Who had said that? That wasn’t his thought.

*You are correct. I am not you, I am something inside of you.*

Must be some sort of **** he forgot to take. Matthew stood up and resolved to ignore this issue and just plan for it to go away. Nobody just heard voices, those people had to be crazy, and he was *not* crazy.

*I find your analysis intriguing, yet it is still wrong. I am using your body as a host for a time.*

And, of course, it’d try to respond to him. He knew how this stuff worked, Matt had watched plenty of The Mentalist and psychology videos. He knew how crafty the brain was to try and trick itself. He would just ride out whatever this was.

And he did so. For the rest of his family’s vacation, he ignored the voice in his head. It went quiet during the day, only speaking up to him when he was alone, but those were good times. It allowed him to enjoy the vacation with his mother and sister, even if she was gone every other night at some party.

But, like all good things, it came to an end. He returned home, unpacked the van, and plopped himself back down in his room, welcoming the familiar comforts of his bed.

*Are you still going to pretend like I do not exist?* the voice asked.

“Yup,” he answered. “I am not going to do anything about you until you disappear. I’m not crazy. I’m a History Major. I ain’t dealing with this.”

*Even now that you’ve returned to your sanctum, you refuse to believe I’m an extraterrestrial?*

“I’m telling ya’, there’s nothing you can do to convince me---”

Matt’s mother kicked open the door with her hip. “Matthew Stone! You better not be laying in bed while your clothes are still unpacked!” Her eyes gazed around his room, bulging slightly. She had forgotten that her son didn’t clean up as well as he should have before they left. Clothes were still along the floor, dirty glasses on his desk, and even a dirty plate. Her face fell and anger burned in her eyes. “**Matthew Stone! You clean this room up right now!**”

He flinched, getting up and out of bed. “Sorry, mom, I’ll clean up now.”

“You better!” She stormed out of the room, leaving Matthew with the voice again.

*Potential Agreement: I prove that I exist with a simple mental manipulation.*

“What?” Matthew stared up at his forehead as best he could. “Look, I’m not going to believe you, because you can’t change reality, because you’re just in my mind.”

*Is there any harm then in me proving it?* It chuckled in his mind. *Observe, Matthew Stone.*

A headache pulsed forth from his mind. It was like someone decided to play drums in his skull. He clutched at his ears, where the pain was the worst, but as quickly as it came, the pain disappeared entirely. He cast his eyes around the room, looking for anything changed but noticing nothing.

*There.* The voice sounded weary. *Ask your matriarch about this dwelling.*

Matt tried to eye the voice suspiciously, but couldn’t find any reason to. Maybe the voice was making him think that? Still, he walked over to the door and called out, “Mooom! Come here real quick!”

After a minute, his mother reentered the room, looking annoyed. “What?”

He gave a sheepish smile and waved a hand. “What needs to be cleaned again?”

“Cleaned?” His mother raised an eyebrow. “Honey, your room’s fine. You know I don’t care about a few glasses and clothes. You’re the one stuck wearing them, so if you want to smell, you can.”

With that, his mother left to a slack jawed Matt. He gave a confused “Huh?” before casting his eyes up to his forehead again. “You, did you actually cause my mom not to care?!”

*Yes. That was the simplest and most direct route to proof, was it not?*

Matt nodded and his mind raced. He could do so much with this thing!