Smith wasn't.. Well. In fact he was far from it. He'd been my friend since.. I dunno, the past 7 years? Since our sophomore year at Oregon I'd say, but I'd seen him around even before then. hell we've been roomates for the past 2 years, and things have been.. ok, mostly.

He was always a little odd, which wasn't exactly my favorite quality of his. When I attempted to wingman for him at bars, he'd scare the girls off, or make them laugh at both of us, simply due to my proximity to him.

Lately, it's been bad, to the point where I'm worried he's mentally ill, or sick or something. Last week on Monday night, he was crying on our couch (Where he prefers to sleep) so loudly it woke up one of our neighbors. She banged on the door for what seemed like hours, almost until the sun came up!

He began screaming about terrorists, or something. People watching him. I begged him to let me take him to a doctor, but he swore he was ok. Swore he'd be fine. Swore he was right. Maybe something is up? His parents died last month from what he told me.. His sister died 2 months ago... Our damn dog was poisoned a month before that... Fuck it, I'm not stooping to his level. He's insane. There's no doubting it.

What happened 2 nights ago proved it. He began yelling at me through my door! Like some psychopath, just screaming that 'they' were "coming to get us". I tried to ignore him, but he was so loud. I finally had enough and called the police. After that, I told him they were coming and he stopped.. I think he left. The police arrived, and I finally left my room. He'd wrecked the place. Shit was everywhere, strewn about.

The police questioned me for a long while. Asking me odd questions, getting really specific about Smith. "Where was he from", "Where does he work"... "What the fuck had he done" was my first thought.

Suddenly I became worried. I knew he was out there, somewhere. Cold, sick...