The following events I am about to retell I wish for the love of God weren't true, because of them I'm now stuck somewhere outside of Birmingham in a motel with someone who says their me...or at least a future version of me!
Ok I'm getting ahead of myself here...
The first thing you need to know is that I live in a little place called Lichfield.
The town itself is quaint, quite, nothing really happens and you get the rare new person from outside of Lichfield move in.
Anyways ...
Two nights ago My friend Beth and I were talking about my nick name "murderous Molly"
Only a joke of course,
but then everything became suddenly serious when I mentioned my blackouts, and how...how...swallowing hard ...that when I wake up sometimes I'm not where I started and that I sometimes wake up with mud on my clothes...and hands...
This wasn't a problem till my neighbour went missing...and I'd woken up in bed, shoes caked in mud, face dirty, and hands in a similar condition but with blood under my nails...as if I had defended myself against someone....or attacked them.....
That's when things started to.....started to become even weirder....
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