See me. See me. See me. See me. See me. And stay.
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Info
And everything that no one knows
You should be hated here by now
This was the prettiest lie that I told tonight
It's been the prettiest lie that I told all year- Carissa's Wierd, You Should Be Hated Here
SCP-9139- I Want To Be At The Center So Things Happen To Me
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Designation: 9139
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-9139 is to be given job duties that can be performed remotely, and has been given a significant pay raise and benefits to encourage retention at its current position. Suggestions for containment involving a localized SRA carried by SCP-9139 at all times have been denied as a result of unavoidable exposure to radiation and other potential carcinogens.
SCP-9139 is otherwise nonanomalous, and is a core member of Site-415 personnel. He is to be treated as such. Given the nature of SCP-9139's effects, it has been deemed responsible for updating its files, though any information added must undergo external verification.
Psychotherapy is available upon request.
Description: SCP-9139 is Foundation Team Lead Malkinder Singh Chattha, age 26, who experiences a constant state of disequilibrium unaffected by medications and therapy. Extensive imagery, both anomalous and nonanomalous, has displayed no expected internal physiological explanation. Instead, SCP-9139 exerts an uncontrollable, mild reality-bending effect on itself that perpetually affects its sense of balance.
It was good! Things were fine. I thought I was doing better. Then something happened, and I honestly can't tell what. I wish I could.
I could be okay, then. Probably. It would at least tell me what was wrong with me. Even if I couldn't fix it, but I could… know. I'd know what to be upset at myself for.
SCP-9139 has explained that its anomalous nature is a recent development, and allegedly started the same day symptoms were self-reported to Foundation Medical Services, on 02/09/2025. Subject had been noted to be avoiding contact with coworkers, choosing to instead spend excessive time working solo on-site. SCP-9139 resides in a studio apartment in San Francisco, California, but had not returned home in nearly two weeks.
Home kind of sucks these days. It's so quiet, until it isn't, when you hear the laughing of people leaving clubs and bars each night. That somehow makes it feel more quiet inside.
I tried reaching out. I'm sure I wasn't being bad, wasn't overreaching or being too much, my friends said I was okay. But I didn't think so.
I saw it. It was clear as day, that people weren't picking things out about me, that I was noticing them treating me differently. It must have been true. So I thought if things were going to go that way, if I was already noticing the patterns, then I might as well accept it.
The only constant in all this is me. So the problem, therefore, must lay with me.
Treatment for typical vertigo and disequilibrium were met with universal failure, creating concern for anomalous causes. Hume counters measured a modest decrease in a large radius around SCP-9139, upon which it turned itself in for assessment.
Following the worsening of symptoms, SCP-9139 was classified and encouraged to return home to determine next steps. Since returning home, SCP-9139 has gradually scored worse on various mental health questionnaires. Regular checks have been performed on SCP-9139, but have displayed no immediate causes for concern.
I need to update this. Some things’ve happened.
I can't test it. I don't want to go bother anyone at work. I know they say they're fine, but I can see it. Hear it. They barely say anything these days.
It used to be a lot more. Now it's just "hope you're okay." I think I've burnt the candle too much. The energy's just gone, and it's my fucking fault.
The following information is unverified.
Addendum 1 - Symptom Update
SCP-9139 has self-reported that its effects have begun to affect living organisms in a large radius around it. This effect does not extend to non-living organic matter. As a result, SCP-9139 has been able to maintain a normal diet and routine via delivery services, physical mail, and digital forms of communication.
I have a big gash on my head, cause I fell the other day. I'm not sure if I'm even off-balance anymore, or if my body wanted to veer off-course because it thought it was supposed to.
Addendum 2 - Symptom Update
SCP-9139 has self-reported that its effects have begun to affect living organisms via active digital communication, such as phone or video calls. As such, it has requested to be updated via periodic emails and physical mail instead.
SCP-9139 has remained compliant with Foundation recommendations, and exercised extreme caution with regards to its anomalous effects. Due to the relatively small investment involved with its containment, current efforts will continue.
I'm doing this to myself, I know. I don't know how much of this is real. Maybe if I made it worse, they'd come and check on me for a bit.
But I can't keep that going. There's something wrong.
Whatever it is, I can't beat it. Whatever it is, I can't fix it.
Addendum 3 - Symptom Update
SCP-9139 has filed for permanent home employment. Foundation Medical Services have requested a home visit, which has been declined by SCP-9139. Reasons cited include fear of spread of its anomalous effects, as well as an assurance that it will return to work soon.
Time off was also requested. However, the submitted form did not include an end date.
It's been a little bit since I've heard from anyone. Proven myself right, I guess.
I think it's settled.
I'm going to go outside again.
SCP-9139 then left its house. Its movements were tracked via security camera footage.
Addendum 4 - Camera Log
[BEGIN LOG]
SCP-9139 exits its home. It lives on a suburban street, turning left to head towards a main road.
It walks along this main road. Clutching its stomach in presumed hunger, it shows a difficulty in keeping its balance, running into multiple trees growing adjacent to the sidewalk.
Continuing its pace, it greets a neighbor, identified as James Starkey, age 53. Starkey is returning home from the grocery store, and shows SCP-9139 photos in its wallet. SCP-9139 observes these photos for a few seconds, talks for a few more minutes, during which Starkey points at the developing bruises on SCP-9139's forehead from its collisions with the trees. SCP-9139 waves off Starkey and laughs. The two then mutually part ways.
SCP-9139 reaches a small strip mall, where it enters a West Coast Financial bank. In said bank, it makes a deposit of $6,300. It then transfers a large chunk of its savings to its mother and father's joint account. Stealing a pen from the bank, it then enters the grocery store next door.
In the store, it falls in the candy aisle and knocks over a display. An employee rushes to assist SCP-9139. The two pick up the cardboard signage together. Apologizing profusely, SCP-9139 quickly rushes to the register and purchases an energy drink, a notebook, and three Milky Way chocolate bars. Eating one bar, it exits.
The strip mall is adjacent to a neighborhood park, consisting of a large lawn, pond, and small gazebo. SCP-9139 sits in the gazebo, finishing its second chocolate bar and drink. Using the pen from the bank, it writes in its purchased notebook. This task takes approximately thirty minutes, after which it gently tears the paper out, folds it into a paper airplane, and throws it into the lake.
SCP-9139 cries for two hours. Two unidentified children and their dog, who were playing in the park, approach SCP-9139 to talk. It laughs after talking with them for five minutes, gives the children its last chocolate bar, then waves goodbye as they leave.
It then begins to walk towards a bus stop for the GGT 101. This line would take SCP-9139 to the Golden Gate Bridge. Reaching the stop, it nearly runs into the signpost designating the bus stop. Turning after a seated individual at the stop laughs, it begins to laugh as well. The individual, identified as Gloria Muñoz, age 43, offers SCP-9139 a pandesal. It accepts, eating it.
The GGT 101 arrives. SCP-9139 does not board, waving goodbye to Muñoz. Instead, it turns around and begins walking home. It does so without issue until it reaches a crosswalk. SCP-9139 waits for three minutes for a walk signal, presumably unaware that the crosswalk is non-functional. After appearing to grow impatient, SCP-9139 attempts to jaywalk.
A speeding Chevy Volt, going 80 km/h in a 45 km/h zone, runs a red light. SCP-9139 turns its head towards the car.
SCP-9139 does not attempt to move out of the way. It is struck.
It falls.
[END LOG]
Emergency services were called. In critical condition, SCP-9139 was transferred to Site-415 en route. Those in its apparent radius of effect reported no sense of disequilibrium.
SCP-9139 is expected to make a full physical recovery, and will not be permitted to return home without significant psychiatric evaluation.