Frank's not crazy. Really, he's not!
Mikey looked around the room, before his eyes settled on his best friend.
Frank took a deep breath and let it out.
He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was looking at him. It's been like this for almost a year. Frank was always on edge. It started with little things, like hearing creaks as if someone was walking around in his house.
Then windows and doors were found open with Frank clearly remembers closing them. He didn't think much of it at first, but when it started happening more and more, Frank started to get scared.
Frank became paranoid, as anyone would. Especially when things began dissapearing, and being moved. First, his favorite shirt was gone, followed by a few more articles of clothing including a few pairs of his underwear. He wrote it off as his dogs taking them and hiding them somewhere, but, things would of turned up eventually, right?
"Are you okay, Frank?"
Mikey was his best friend, and Frank had told him all about his paranoid suspicions. Being the good friend he is, Mikey tried to help Frank. He stayed the night with his several times, but nothing ever happened when Mikey was there, and it only made him think his friend was actually going crazy.
Frank's answers were always short when they talked about this. He knows what Mikey thinks, and he's embarrased by it. Maybe he is going crazy. Maybe there isnt anything going on, and it's all in his head.
He doesn't want to think he's crazy. But what other option is there?