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Challenge of the Week LXXVII
This week we're going to try something different. Very different. Sort this challenge feed by newest. Read the most recent post, then continue it. Posts will be constrained to 700 words, so nobody has to read a novella before writing their own entry. When evaluating, we'll read the posts in order, from oldest to newest. Feel free to depart from the previous author stylistically, thematically, or in whichever way you choose, though your entry should be somehow connected to the previous entry. If the previous post is nonsensical, or otherwise hopelessly salvageable, continue from the most recent post you can. (If you do elect to continue from a different post, it'd be helpful if you could indicate which post you're continuing from). We'll write the first sentence. "The dream came to an abrupt end when the hysterical ringing of the telephone split the midnight silence."
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AJAY9979
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The Patient

Erick Stool, or that's what he claims his name is. For eight hours a day five days a week, I watch him babble about a dead sister who every man wanted to get with. I fall asleep for several seconds to wake up to him babbling, trying to hang me with his shirts, saying not to get with his sister. I don't want his sister. I'm not a damn necrophiliac. I kick him back in his place, and check his vitals. No bruises on the patients was Father's only rule. But, this one just made me want to kill him. I mean, his sister died of AIDS. She obviously got around, but now she just lived in his head, pushing him to be crazy.

My phone rang, and I checked the caller ID. Mom. No thanks. I hung up on her two weeks ago, and now all she can do is call me and bitch that I'll get my comeuppance for what I did. Whatever. Stool is up again, babbling about his sister, Shine. What a stupid name for a girl. My daughter, Tiffany, didn't have the best name either but Shine was just a bad name. Mom was having Gina call now. Whatever. I couldn't talk to her either. She knew to text me that it was about the kids before she called. I couldn't talk to her right now either. She'd take mom's side like always. If only she hated Mom as much as I did. Our relationship would be better.

"Sister!" Stool screamed, lunging for an empty chair in a dark corner.

"Shut up!" I screamed, kicking him in his stomach. "She's dead. Will you shut up!"

There was a knock on the door. This fool has a no visitors rule. Who the fuck would break the rule of someone with a contagious life-threatening illness. I opened the door to see a woman standing there.

"Who the fuck are you?" I asked through my respirator.

"Um... My name is Shine. I'd like ot see my brother, Erick Stool."

"Keep dreaming kid," I chuckled, slaming the door shut. "Hey weirdo, guess who's here?"

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