Touch of Hell
People always regret something. It is totally fine otherwise half of the purpose of our life would become hazy. People have different opinions on the word 'regret'. Some would say you should not regret anything as everything has a reason behind it. Some would say regrets help us to be better humans in the future as we would not repeat the mistakes which we did in the past. I personally do not stand with anyone because I was never given a chance to ameliorate my mistakes.
It's been two years or maybe a century, time is insignificant here. I am trapped emotionally or physically it does not matter. All I know is I am trapped. I close my eyes for a brief second taking in my inhale and exhale of air. It smells like rust and pain, pain which I inflicted on people or the pain which I am living under. I don't see the difference.
The memory of that is still fresh and will continue to be until I am apprehended here. I don't know what I am trying to accomplish through this, but I feel claustrophobic.
It's been two years or maybe a century, time is insignificant here. I am trapped emotionally or physically it does not matter. All I know is I am trapped. I close my eyes for a brief second taking in my inhale and exhale of air. It smells like rust and pain, pain which I inflicted on people or the pain which I am living under. I don't see the difference.
The memory of that is still fresh and will continue to be until I am apprehended here. I don't know what I am trying to accomplish through this, but I feel claustrophobic.
It was last summer. I was a normal student going to a national college nearby Chicago. I was studying psychology and had a huge interest in that field. I could see myself as an accomplished psychiatrist, sharing pain with my patients. That thought still makes me smile.
23rd July 1894 I returned home after the longest time and that is when the wave of my mother's news came crashing into me. She was trapped in the world of hallucination (Schizophrenia) and was not prepared to contact a psychiatrist. I could not comment much about it as I was still in my learning phase. I spent as much time as I could with my mother before she went into the world of delusions.
1st August 7:56 pm I was descending the stairs to catch a train back to Chicago, but who knew I was walking towards a fatal faith. My mom came running down the stairs with a knife in her hand. Instantly my thought went back to the time when I was a kid and had seen my mother humming while chopping onions. However, something about that knife and the way she was holding it was different. It was as if she intended the knife to go directly between my head. I waved her goodbye seeking to ignore the grin on her face and the color red on the blade.
I turned back to the path which would lead me to my destination, a sacred path that would lead me to effectuate my dream. It was the biggest mistake I had ever performed. A hard pain shot me through my shoulder and my whole body shuddered. It was the knife that my mother held which was now tainted with my blood. She was hallucinating again, but where was the nurse. I took a small step toward her chanting "calm down" but the words did not seem to reach her.
I called the nurse hoping for a response but I guessed like my future she too had faded. My mother started choking me and started intoning "traitor" like it was the only word she had learned.
23rd July 1894 I returned home after the longest time and that is when the wave of my mother's news came crashing into me. She was trapped in the world of hallucination (Schizophrenia) and was not prepared to contact a psychiatrist. I could not comment much about it as I was still in my learning phase. I spent as much time as I could with my mother before she went into the world of delusions.
1st August 7:56 pm I was descending the stairs to catch a train back to Chicago, but who knew I was walking towards a fatal faith. My mom came running down the stairs with a knife in her hand. Instantly my thought went back to the time when I was a kid and had seen my mother humming while chopping onions. However, something about that knife and the way she was holding it was different. It was as if she intended the knife to go directly between my head. I waved her goodbye seeking to ignore the grin on her face and the color red on the blade.
I turned back to the path which would lead me to my destination, a sacred path that would lead me to effectuate my dream. It was the biggest mistake I had ever performed. A hard pain shot me through my shoulder and my whole body shuddered. It was the knife that my mother held which was now tainted with my blood. She was hallucinating again, but where was the nurse. I took a small step toward her chanting "calm down" but the words did not seem to reach her.
I called the nurse hoping for a response but I guessed like my future she too had faded. My mother started choking me and started intoning "traitor" like it was the only word she had learned.
Everything started to blur, I did not want to die, I still had a lot of things to be accomplished. Before I could think of anything or even before I could thank god for giving me such a beautiful life everything blacked out...
I woke up to the sound of a strong yet familiar voice. It was my father who had passed away in a war. I wanted to enclose my arms around him, to sob till my eyes dried out of tears, but instead, I just stared at his face. His face had not changed. He had a coy smile on and his eyes were full of passion. The same eyes that had taken a bullet for our country, who made our country win but lose at the same time. I guessed this was heaven. I tried to listen to my father's words, but they seemed to blur.
I woke up to the sound of a strong yet familiar voice. It was my father who had passed away in a war. I wanted to enclose my arms around him, to sob till my eyes dried out of tears, but instead, I just stared at his face. His face had not changed. He had a coy smile on and his eyes were full of passion. The same eyes that had taken a bullet for our country, who made our country win but lose at the same time. I guessed this was heaven. I tried to listen to my father's words, but they seemed to blur.
Instead of those unspoken words, I tried to focus on the world around me. We were in a prison. I felt like a bird who demanded freedom yet could not achieve it. I cried. I worked my lungs out yet my scream of pain did not seem to reach anyone.
Time moved as slow as my breathing, my inhale and exhale were about to sink down the sea. My father seemed to be staring at something. He was still as water and his eyes reflected my every move, my every need for air.
Was that the end? Is this how I lived my life. A coward who could not achieve anything. I was scared.......I was scared...I wanted freedom, Was that too much to ask?
The prison opened as if the gate to someone's heart opened. My heart thumped against my chest like millions of stars crashing into each other. I would not have even heard my own voice.
Was that the end? Is this how I lived my life. A coward who could not achieve anything. I was scared.......I was scared...I wanted freedom, Was that too much to ask?
The prison opened as if the gate to someone's heart opened. My heart thumped against my chest like millions of stars crashing into each other. I would not have even heard my own voice.
Everything just blurred out in an instant, with only one question pinned inside my head
"Am I dead??"
"Am I dead??"
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