Insanity
By gamerid
- 550 reads
Insanity
First came the voices. They hovered at the back of my mind, fading in
and out like phantoms, whispering words that didn`t make sense. They
were like forgotten memories, just out of reach. And that`s what I
thought they were. Just memories.......but then they grew louder. They
began to invade my every thought. Sometimes it felt like I was wearing
headphones and that the volume had been switched up full blast, louder
than I ever thought possible.
Even in my sleep I heard them. It became constant. Every night I would
wake up screaming and then not even know why. And then the voices would
start again.
I would tell my wife that it was just a bad dream, nothing for her to
worry about but I knew she didn`t believe me. It was the look in her
eyes that gave her away. I`ll never forget it. Obviously she was
worried but there was something else in her eyes, embedded deep inside,
hidden away so I couldn`t see. Looking closer I realised it was fear -
dark, primal fear. I assumed it was fear for me, fear for my wellbeing
but looking back it was obvious. She was scared of me. Scared of what I
had become.
One night she told me that when I screamed it sounded like I was dying
a thousand deaths all at once and then she burst into tears, sobbing
hysterically. The truth was I already felt dead inside but instead of
telling her that I comforted her and told her that everything was going
to be okay. It`s funny how people say that when they know everything`s
as far from okay as it can possibly get. I think what scared me the
most was the fact that I didn`t care. I didn`t care about Sarah anymore
or the kids and I sure as hell didn`t care about myself.
The voices became garbled, all talking at once in a twisted effort to
gain my attention. Each one spoke in a different voice but they all
said the same thing. For the most part, they spoke in forgotten
tongues, more ancient than time itself (or so I liked to think) but I
soon began to make out certain words. It was as if they wanted me to
understand but for some reason they couldn`t get the whole message
across, only snippets. I remember hearing the words 'gone' and
'forever' being repeated over and over. I think they might have
mentioned 'darkness' as well but I`m not sure. There were so many
voices vying for my audience, it`s a wonder I understood any of it. I
suppose it was the constant repetition that did it in the end
though.
However one word stood out among the rest. 'Falling.' I would
sometimes scream that word, such was the power it held over me. When
the voices said it, the sound would resonate throughout my head and
into my entire body. My muscles would spasm at the very use of the word
as it echoed back and forth within my mind. How was I to know that the
voices were trying to warn me. Even now I don`t know if they were part
of my detoriation or if in fact they were sent by an outside force,
trying to save what was left of me.
It became a recurring dream. I would stand at the edge of an abyss,
looking down only to see darkness. A figure would appear before me, his
entire body wreathed in shadow. He would wear a cloak that hid his face
from those who would dare look upon him. Despite my intrigue towards
the mysterious figure, I was more interested in the cloak he wore. When
he moved, the cloak moved with him, like a faithful companion or a
subjected slave. It rippled and flowed over its` wearers` body, seeming
to have a mind of its` own. It was made of no fabric I had ever seen,
in fact it didn`t look like fabric at all and it certainly wasn`t of
this earth. To me it looked like its` maker had carved away part of an
actual shadow, such was its` surreality. Looking into it was like
looking into ones` own soul, such was its` depth. Made of the darkest
shadow it appeared to be part of deaths` cloak itself, such was its`
darkness.
In the dream the figure would speak to me in a gravelly voice, telling
me that he`s preparing me for the journey to come and then I would wake
up, screaming.
When I finally told my wife about the dream, she begged me to seek
professional help. I wouldn`t listen. How the hell would a head shrink
be able to help me? I was beyond all help by then. That much I knew.
Even the kids could tell something was wrong. Emily asked me if it was
the boogeyman that worried me so much. She told me of it isn`t real and
how it can`t hurt you if you don`t believe in it. She told me I didn`t
have to be scared anymore. It`s amazing how perceptive young children
can be sometimes.
Except this boogeyman had brought friends. They were impossible to
ignore and I`d come to accept that I`d never be rid of them. They had
become as much a part of my life as breathing (not very original but
it`s the closest comparison I can think of. It`s impossible to describe
what my life had become)
But despite all this, I thought I could cope and lead some semblance
of a normal life. That`s what you get for taking things for
granted.
The dreams started coming to me while I was awake. I would fall into a
trance and when I woke up I would start screaming again. My boss fired
me. (You`re an embarassment to the firm and yourself) My wife left me.
(Why didn`t you just get some help. Look at you. You`re not even a man
anymore) Even the kids were gone. (Daddy, why aren`t you coming with
us?) All I had left was myself........and the voices.
I had become a shell of a man, a lifeless husk. I hadn`t had any real
sleep in over six weeks. The dreams didn`t rest me, they just tired me
even more. I had no job, no family. No one cared anymore. I had driven
them all away, like I always do. Life was so bad even the voices had
become a comfort to me. For a while I considered just ending it all but
by then I was beyond even that. My waking existence had become a living
nightmare and when I was asleep it was even worse. It was the same
dream over and over. My life had become a twisted cycle of pain and
loneliness.
Weeks passed and nothing changed. Everything had a grey overcast to
it. I realised that, depending on your outlook the world can become a
different place. Wherever I looked I saw nothing but gloom and sadness.
Depression doesn`t even begin to describe what I was going through.
Neither does insanity although I suppose that`s closer.
I looked at children and I envied them. Such innocence. Not yet
crushed by this cold, harsh world we have to face everyday. It doesn`t
matter anyway. Soon they will lose their naivety and wake up to the
pisshole that is reality.
To be honest I can`t even remember a lot of what went through my head
at that time of my life. I`m trying to help you understand what a
living hell I was going through although you can`t even call it hell.
It was like I was trapped in a state of limbo with everything suspended
around me. Time didn`t matter anymore. Nothing did.
But then something did change. One night I had the dream again but
this time it was different. At the point where I usually wake up,
something amazing happened. I didn`t. I didn`t wake up. The dream
carried on. After the man draped in black told me he was preparing me
for the journey to come, the shadows fell from him
revealing........me
He told me that it was time and the next thing I knew, he grabbed me
by the hand and pulled me into the abyss. We fell for what seemed like
an eternity and then everything went black.
The bad man`s gone now. I`m safe. Safe in my little black box. Four
walls surround me. Black as ebony. Black as the cloak in my dream with
the depth of my soul and the surreality of a shadow woven in to fabric.
Four walls surround me. They keep the bad things away.
In one corner is a small window. Looking through it I see the world I
once lived in but it`s different somehow. There`s a crack in the glass.
It moves outwards like a spiders` web. It fragments my view of the
world, changing everything.
Everything`s okay now. For the first time in my life, everything makes
sense. I`m finally at peace. But then the hands appear out of nowhere.
Touching me, grabbing me. Pulling me into the wall.
And then the voices came.
- Log in to post comments