In Dreams

The Maze. I am running. Where are you? Why are you crying? Please God, its deafening. Its piercing through my ears, I can’t take it any longer. The screams getting louder and louder. The child is crying at the top of his voice, he is in trouble. Streets after streets, dead ends, it is like a maze, where is he? Why am I running towards him, am I going to save him? If yes, from what. Where am I, how did I get here? What’s going on? Keep on running, these chunks of flesh lying around, they are stinking, a smell that can make you dizzy. The sounds of hissing, flapping of wings, heartbeat, liquid gushing from walls which seems like reaching the sky. The walls were closing in, I can hear it, I have to hurry, he is crying, the baby is in danger; I can hear him writhing in pain, convulsing in agony. Where are you? Pool of blood gathering everywhere, they are getting bigger, soon it will drown me. I have to keep on running, maybe I can find an exit, or the child who is still screaming. It is getting darker, can’t see anything. Halt, there it is. It’s horrific, almost barbaric. The decapitated body of child lay there. The child no longer screams now. I can see him, walls stopped closing in. The child is moving, not because he is alive but something is eating him from inside. His vital organs exposed, the body was split open and insects, larvae eating him. His eyes were not in place, he had no ears but bloody holes instead. A pool of blood surrounds him. Large amount of liquid gushing from his body. I am disgusted, yet I feel pity. I wish I was here before, I could have saved him, I could have. My hands, the blood of the child is on my hands. I killed him. NOOOOOOOO…

The chair. Where am I now? I can’t move. I am stuck, the darkness surrounds me. HELPPPPPPP MEEEEEEEE. Nobody can listen me, there’s nobody here, I am alone. I am floating, floating in space. I can’t move out of this chair. I am gonna vomit, it’s coming out, its coming out. Shard of a glass, I am holding it, was it stuck in my throat. My throat hurts, I feel thirsty. Water, I need water, please help me, water. Tears are coming down my face. I am in pain, please, water, somebody, anybody. I can’t take any more, this pain, this feeling of loneliness, guilt. I am a prisoner, somebody free me. The shard, yes, it’s the only way, logical, practical, easy. The blood gushed as the shard penetrated my flesh. The sight of blood, my life flying away, is amusing. My hands are shaking, trembling, what’s happening, the thirst gone, I am free. No, No, it can’t be possible, the blood going inside, the wound cannot heal, no I want to die, No you asked me, it was your wish. NOOOOOOOOOOO…

The bed. It’s so comforting to lie down. The pleasure seems like eternity. I feel relaxed now, finally I can rest. Maybe my worries had ended, I am at last free. Its dark, nobody is here, maybe I can, yes, seem reasonable. Nothing better than giving pleasure to yourself. Making love to yourself can do wonders, take away the pressure, strain from the mind. My hand, the right one, long time it has been. Slowly, slowly inside the pants, I can feel it. I just have to close my eyes and imagine. And the rest would happen all by itself. Caressing, sliding up and down. Oh, it feels good, maybe faster, faster. It feels liberating, faster. No, I can’t stop, my hand, it’s not in my control anymore. It’s hurting me, no more, no more. It’s burning, it’s going limp, no, don’t hurt it. Blood, its poring out blood, stop, I had enough. For god’s sake, stop, it’s getting sore. Cracking noise, what have I done? Scream, no, don’t scream, NOOOOOOOOOOO…
The Mirror. I look hideous. The scars down my ankle, my legs, my abdomen, my face. I hate myself, you look hideous, I am laughing at you. You are a born looser. Why, why do you look like this, why do you behave like this, you are a disappointment to the whole family. You would never become anything, never. You want more, you do right, see this belt, I am going to beat you with this, I am going to give more scars to make you realize how repulsive you are. A burden, I would have been better without you. You would never get a girl, never, you know why. Because girls like decent boys, boys who can accomplish something, they like winners. And you, you are a piece of shit, I am ashamed of you. You make me feel guilty of myself. You would never amount to anything. Laughter ringing in my ears, I can hear moaning, moaning of a women, mocking me in between. I can see her far away in the mirror, it was blurry, but she was also laughing at me. The she began to engage in her perverse sexual act, moaning louder. No, please stop, I can’t take any longer, you would no longer torment me. My fist go through the mirror, it is broken. But there is darkness behind it, a different world; maybe I can be blissful in that world. I have to go there, it’s my destiny. I am falling, falling, I see no ground, this is peaceful, no more nightmares, hallucinations, no more crying or laughter, my mind is blank.

“Dr. Tom Sherrington, I am Charles Burger, I am Alan’s friend. So, how is he?”
“Charles, can I call you Charles, you see, Alan Byrne has undergone severe emotional damage. He is not moving, he is not saying anything, he is not eating anything. But he is both physically and mentally fit. This kind of condition results from social influences or stressful life experiences. It seems like he doesn’t want to live, can you recall any incident that have caused him to behave like this.”

“Alan led a very stressful life. His father abused him, used to beat him with a belt. His father always led him believe that he was a disappointment. Well his father went to jail after he killed his wife, mother of Alan, he caught her having sex with another man. He shot them both, Alan was found sitting in the corner. He was just a kid, his mother forced him to watch her having sex. After his father gone, he lived with me. Became a hell of a businessman. We were partners, you see. But bad luck never left him. His secretary accused him of raping her; the case went on for months. Well, he won of course; there he met Martha, his lawyer and future wife. She just died. She committed suicide. She had also some kind of mental disorder after she gave birth to a, what can I say, her child was dead when she gave birth to him. She never saw his dead body; Alan did not let her see it. Alan never wanted a child; he thought it would ruin his career. Martha accused him of killing her child that he just threw that child somewhere. Tell me can a father do that? She cut her hands after one month. After all that, Alan just lost it. He locked himself in his house, refused to see anybody, sometimes he would just get hysterical. He lost his job, so yeah lots happened in his life. Is there anything you can do for him, Doctor.”
“We can’t until he wants it. He lost all will to remain alive. Oh, one minute, these were some notes that he scribbled down during he was sane. It doesn’t make sense but maybe you can understand them.” He handed over a small diary. On the front page were written the words “In dreams”
A tear fell down his eyes as Charles read the diary. “It’s his confession” he muttered to himself. Without saying anything, he left the office.