Three

Like a robot she gets ready for work. The ride is a silent one. Today like any other day is gloomy. She is on the verge of tears. She gets to work and sets about working on her latest project. Shutting the door to that secret place she escapes to after everyone has left and gone home and lie in their beds lost in the land of subconscious. And the monster lies at the doorway awaiting it's unleashing. And to her, night falls. As everyone wakes up, her emotional world goes to sleep. Waiting. Waiting for her to return and devour her once more....

And when the nightfall’s the door shall open for day will have begun....

GOOD DAY.

She is huddled over her pc. As evening draws near the demons awaken and the voices in her head begin as whispers then they become loud, she wants to scream out. It is 1800hrs.she packs her things and switches off her mobile in an attempt to ward off phone calls. She then remembers that mom is sick. She switches the phone back on.

The ride home seems long. Along the way her mind drifts. And she slowly feels tears well up her eyes and a heavy emotion settle on her heart. And then darkness falls as her tormentors arise.

Home feels like a prison. Friends seem a bit too much to bear in their worry and concern. If they only knew. They would leave her alone.
"Don’t they understand? It’s better this way." she mumbles to herself. Humming a sad tune she decides to take a walk. Not seeing even the path she is taking she chooses the little footpaths. Dark as they are and dangerous she feels nothing. An assault would be welcome. Anything to take the pain spreading through her heart away.

"Welcome back." a malicious voice whispers, “ you were missed"

She blinks back tears of frustration.

"I told you would be back. Remember me? You used to play with me back in the days of kindergarten. Remember? Remember the little song I taught you?” he chuckles,” I knew you would. My good girl..."

She shakes her head, her vision blurred. She trips over a stone and falls face down in mud. As she gets up shaking uncontrollably the voice is still there.

"You were always playing with mud. And didn’t I tell you to look where you were going? See? Now you are back with me. Welcome back child, welcome back..."and a low chuckle again.

She runs fast. Only the voice is in her head. How fast will she run? Where will she run to? How can she escape? And it dawns on her with certainty: it has began...

She runs back home and, panting, heads straight for the shower. As the cold water beats down her now painful muscles she lets it mingle with her now constantly flowing tears. It strikes her that she had not eaten since the previous day. Not that it meant anything. She will eat when she feels like it.

Clad in her favorite t-shirt, she crawls in her bed and curls into a ball and closes her eyes against the still flowing river of tears. They trickle down her nose on one side to the other cheek and onto the pillow, slowly forming a puddle where her head has depressed the soft polyester. Images burn behind her closed lids and she squeezes her eyes shut to fight them.

"Why are you punishing me this way? Cant you just take me and take it up with me while I’m there?” she silently cries in her heart.

Goosebumps all over her body, she pulls the cotton sheet over her legs. Images of herself fill her mind. Her body is covered in slime. She is lying on her side, in a dingy room. A rat runs across the room. She is not moving. The image turns. To show her the face of the woman on the floor. At the full image of the front side of the body, her stomach convulses. She is lying on her right side. Her right arm is twisted in a not so humanly position. Her right eye is gruesomely hanging off its socket and half of it is crushed. In its place in the sockets are maggots and a cockroach or two. Her left eye is looking up at the wall behind her head. Her mouth is wide open with maggots pouring in and out. The right arm that is twisted grotesquely holds her right breast, which has been detached, from her chest. Her right arm is inside her open abdomen fingers entangled in her bowels. Between her legs a dark, round mound can be seen. Brought close she sees it is the head of an infant. Mouth dry, she gulps in a breath. And before she could swallow it she notices movement. The head of the baby moves. She screams.

Her whole body is drenched in sweat. The cotton sheet she was holding onto tightly was soaked in sweat too. She can’t lift a finger. She is numb from the horrific images she just had a premonition of. Dazed, she gets off the bed and descends to the kitchen. Glass of water in hand she settles on the couch, pops two sleeping pills in her mouth and gulps down the water. She then switches on the TV. And switches to the music channel. Slowly she drifts off into deep sleep dreading the hours ahead in the land of the subconscious....

GOODNIGHT.