State Of Mind (Story)
Prologue
“I’m sick of this lousy place! I’m sick of my typical routine! I’m sick of my depressing and dull life!” I screamed as my fist flew into the mirror and it shattered as it made contact. Shards of glittering glass flew around the room, falling to the floor. The razor sharp pieces of glass cutting my skin.
“Why can’t I just die?!?” I bellowed as blood trickled from my tightened fist. I threw my fist into the wall and it shuddered as it made contact. I grabbed the expensive after-shave and tossed it against the door. Jagged pieces of glass flew into my face as the bottle broke and blood began to seep.
“What’s going on? Are you o.k.?” My wife called as she heard the screams of pain and glass breaking as my frustration and anger grew even greater. I walked along the glass covered floor, pain shot through my body as I unlocked the door and she walked in.
“Oh dear lord, what have you done?” She glanced around the room with a perplexed and wondering look upon her face. She looked at my face and saw the tear filled eyes, the cuts and scars upon my face. Her eyes stared into mine and I slipped to the floor, tears mixing with the blood. She ran to grab the phone, calling for an ambulance. As she finished on the phone, she came and cradled me in her arms. Our bodies linked together, and we both felt the same emotions, confusion and pain.
“What have I done? I’m so confused, why have I done this to you? I don’t deserve you, I’ve ruined everything! Why? Oh why?” I cried out in confusion. The sound of sirens grew ever closer, and I felt my consciousness slip away from me.
“No! Sshh! Don’t talk like that! I love you for who you are, not for what you do, and I will never leave you for your mistakes!” I felt her grip tighten around me as the door flew open and looked around in confusion.
I felt the room spiral around me, figures blurring as my mind slipped back, back to when I was a child.
Chapter One - As A Child
I screamed out in shock as a plate smashed against the cold, hard stone floor.
“What are you doing? For god’s sake, all I ask you to do is wash the dishes, and you can’t even do that without breaking something! You really are a little twat!” The words flew into my ears and I winced as I saw him walk through the hallway towards me.
This man, my step-father and my cause of pain, stood over me as I felt my pain increase inside me. An open hand connected with the back of my head, and I stumbled forward from the force and aggression behind the blow.
“You think you’re clever! You’re not, you little s**t! All you are, is a worthless life, you should die and give someone else a chance at life! Why don’t you go do that? Or should I do it for you?” Once again, the open hand flew against me and I fell. He laughed at my pathetic attempts to look strong, my pathetic attempts to show him he couldn’t hurt me. Inside I knew, not only had he hurt me, he’d killed me.
I ran from him, ran up to my sanctuary and my portal to peace. Away from my pain and my suffering, away from the evils of the world, away from my step-father and his chaotic aggression and hatred towards me.
“That’s it! Run away, you little weakling! I’m going to kill you one day, I hope you are ready for that day!” He bellowed as I clambered the wooden stairs. I flew into my room and slammed the door. I screamed out and tears began to flow down my face.
Again, he’d succeeded in killing my spirit, and I felt weak inside and out. All he’d ever done is hurt me and cause me pain, and I could nothing. My sister opened the door and saw my cradled body in the corner. She too knew what went on when my mother was out, and she came to me, and we sat in terror and fright together, waiting in anticipation for his next bout of anger and hatred.
Several hours later, I heard the door open, not my bedroom door, but the front door to our home, and I knew instantly that my mother was back. I vaulted up and ran down the stairs to greet her. She looked at me with a gleaming look upon her face, and I grabbed her and hugged her as I felt safe around her.
“Oh hello, how was work?” Jason said as he saw my mother in the doorway. “Fine, thanks. Same old, same old. How was your day?” He ignored the question and walked off, and my mother simply carried me into the lounge, and we sat together, cradled in her arms, I was happy again.
Chapter Two - As A Man
“Doctor, come quick! He’s awake!” These were the first words I heard as I opened my eyes and saw my look looking fatigued and happy. I was amazed at how beautiful she was, and I couldn’t help but try and sit up to look at her even more.
“Ah, no! Don’t try and move your back, you’ve been lying down for 3 days, it’ll take some time for you to be able to do that.” She grabbed some controls, and I felt the top half of my bed rise up and I could see her face once again.
“What’s going on? Where am I?” I asked.
“You’re in hospital, don’t you remember?” She answered.
“Remember what? What have I done?”
“Oh baby, look, you had a burst of anger, and there was glass all over the floor, and I came in, but just as the emergency services came in, you passed out and you fell to the floor, your back had several pieces of glass in it, and we thought you could’ve died, but you’ve proved them wrong!”
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry. What can I say for you to forgive me?” I cried.
“There’s no nothing you can do, because I already forgive you!” She proclaimed, and she bent over and kissed me, I felt so much better, and I remembered how much we loved each other.
“Hun, can I tell you something?” I asked.
“Sure, go ahead, you know you can tell me anything.” And at that point, I begun to tell my story of my life as a child, my life of abuse and pain, and she looked in confusion as I told my whole story.
Chapter 3 – Back again
Once again, I was back into my world of hatred, my world of pain. Every day I slipped back to when I was a child, when my stepfather tortured me and killed my spirit. Every moment I was there, my anger built up inside me, and my life fell back to an all-time low…Depression filled my mind, hatred filled my heart. How he managed to continually control me, I don’t know but it was hell, and I wanted to escape. I wanted to rise above the evil of my life, and become like a phoenix, rising from the flames to a new life.
My thoughts of hope and dreams were soon smashed out of me, as once again violence struck me, and I knew that the anger inside my stepfather had built to a point of no return. Fists came at me from nowhere, blood dripping from my wounds, healed cuts opening again, scars coming back into view again. My stepfather walked patiently around me, waiting for me to break and cry…it was his game, his way of controlling me and making me suffer.
A fist flew into my face, my cheek began to hurt, and I could feel the taste of blood in my mouth. A kick to my knees, a fist to my ribs, this time he wouldn’t stop…his anger just continued and continued, and I wondered would I come out of this alive. I saw his hands clench into a fist again, and I fell to the floor as a final blow knocked all of my strength out of me.
I saw him fumbling around in the drawers, as my eyes began to refocus, and I saw what he was grabbing. The glistening of the blade in the sunlight made me scared, and I wanted to get up and run, but all my energy has been beaten out of me. I saw him laugh, as he began to show me the damage the knife could do. He dragged me up, and cut my arm, blood began to spurt out of the wound, dribbling down my arms. Again, he cut my arm, and the blood from both wounds began to mix.
He dropped the knife, and I saw the blood from it…I saw the hatred in his eyes as he screamed at me in fury. I knew then that he didn’t want to kill me, he wanted to do worse. he wanted me to suffer. He’d already made me suffer, but that was nothing compared to the anguish and hurt I felt now.
I felt the blood slip down my arm, flowing from the cuts forced upon me by my stepfather. Once again, he began to rummage around in the drawers, looking for things he could use to hurt me and to break me down. He stopped, and I heard silence, and suddenly the sound of a flame surrounded me.
I fell to the floor, and he dragged my broken body up, and I saw the lighter close to my arm. The heat increased as the lighter came closer and closer to my wounds. The pain dawned upon me, I cried out as suddenly the flame touched my skin, and I could feel the sudden sensation of burning.
As I cried out in pain and dropped to the floor, all but the soft footsteps of my stepfather walking away was heard. The pain caused me to begin to slip away from this life, and I once again went back to reality.
Chapter Four – Back to reality
I shot up in agony as the lights of the room blinded me and caused me to turn away in anguish. The sounds of machines working, the hum of lights and the constant sound of footsteps surrounded me. I was perplexed as to where I was, all I saw was the drips by my bed and the curtains surrounding me.
As I began to regain consciousness, I saw faces. These faces had looks of perplexity, shock and happiness. Who these people were, I had no clue. I was confused and I wanted to scream out, tell them to leave my home.
“No!!!” I screamed out in terror. Suddenly, people around me began to circle me, looking upon me, working out what I was screaming at, whom it was directed at. I knew whom it was directed at, as the face of stepfather filled my mind.
“Please, keep calm, Mr. Caithness, you are scaring the other patients. You are in hospital. You’ve been in a coma.” A man of the mid thirties proclaimed. Once again, people surrounded me as the doctor continued to talk.
“For the past four months, you’ve had frequent occurrences of spasms. You’ve also had times when you’ve puked blood, which is unusual considering your tests and analysis claims there is nothing wrong with you.” The doctor explained.
“I don’t understand what you are saying, are you saying that I’m doing things without knowing it? Is that even possible?” I asked. I wondered over what I had just asked, wondering whether what I had said even made sense or not.
“Yes, that’s exactly what’s happening, and we can’t explain it. But now that you’re awake, we would like to ask your permission to perform more tests on you. I’d understand if you’d like to talk this over with your wife.” The doctor answered with sincerity and confusion.
The seconds dragged on, as I wondered what I should do, but suddenly I felt myself lose control of my body, and my body began to spasm uncontrollably. My throat became inflamed, and I felt the taste of blood flow through my mouth as I puked up blood. But as soon as it happened, it stopped.
“Ian, what are you going to do? You are critically ill. You’ve gone to the point where you are losing pints of blood at a time, and your body is beginning to look distorted. I’m worried about you, please take the doctor’s advice and let them run more tests.” My wife spoke with worry and concern.
Her words were like love to me, I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know what to do. As her words trailed off in my mind, I slipped away from the perfection of my life. I slipped back into the world that I hated so much.
“Ian, please stay with me!” I heard my wife call to me, as the consciousness and will to subsist slipped away from me. I couldn’t hold on, I couldn’t do anything but let my mind drift back to the past.
Chapter Five – The will to survive
Power, strength
Our lives are tried
We live in dread
Each life may be sad
Reach out to your soul
Fulfil your true dreams
Utilise your skills
Love all you will
Every moment to spare
Must be handled with care
Our lives are so fragile
To us, they are valuable
In our minds, we must think
Our hearts, must they beat
Now live to your greatest…Live to the full
As I finished the poem, I felt the energy drain from me. The concentration and will to write had taken all the energy I had from me. But once again, I felt pride and confidence after finishing the poem. Reading through it to make sure I had no errors. It was perfect, full of emotion and safety. I felt refreshed as my wife walked through the bland curtain. I saw her smile as the saw I had finished the poem.
“I’m glad to see you’ve got your creativity back. It’s a wonder how you still have the strength to write like you do. It’s beautiful.” As she said that, she bent down and kissed me softly.
“I’m glad you still think my poetry is good, I’m glad someone appreciates it.” I told her.
“I don’t just like it, I love it and most people who read it enjoy it.” She said in a gentle, and soft tone.
“Who reads it? Why have they been allowed to read my poetry? I didn’t consent to this!” I begun to scream as the sudden thought of others reading my poetry began to flood my mind. How this sudden flush of anger came about, I was truly confused about. In the past, I had loved others reading my work, it gave me pleasure knowing that those around me felt drawn into my poetry. But now it seemed, that I hated people reading my work, almost as if I felt it was too good for their eyes.
“Sh! Stop this! I let them read your poetry, as you slept, you constantly had that black notebook in your hand, and the nurses and doctors pondered over what it was. I finally showed them your work, and they loved it. Please don’t be angry with me.” My wife said in a sorrowful yet dignified tone. She seemed sincere about her apology, and she did seem to be sincere about the doctors and nurses liking my work.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me, it’s like my anger takes over me, and I can’t help but shout. I don’t mean to do it. I love them reading my work.” I pitifully claimed, wondering what was happening to me.
“It’s ok, don’t worry about it. You’re ill, and obviously another problem is emotion takes over you, it can’t be helped.” My wife explained, with a look of fear and sorrow in her eyes.
“Can I just ask you this one question, how did you stop me from going into unconsciousness?” I asked, as I begun to see her beautiful face, her deep blue eyes and her serene smile hidden beneath a river of tears.
“I thought you’d forgotten. I was strange. I was calling out to you to grip onto life, the doctors didn’t know what to do…I just hoped that you could hang onto life once more. I felt that you couldn’t do it, so I gripped your hand, and gave you the strength you needed. It was so amazing…” She elucidated.
As she begun to speak again, I felt myself slowly drifting to sleep, and at that point I heard her footsteps fading away from me as I slipped to sleep. And that was when it hit me. My will suddenly slipped away from me, no-one was there to save me from the past, no-one there to give me the strength I needed. My thoughts began to fall apart as the past begun to form around me.
Chapter Six - The past develops
The pen slipped away from my hand as I heard the creaking stairs under the weight of a man, only one could make such noise coming up the stairs, my stepfather. I tossed the notebook away from me. I hid behind the covers, hoping for safety and comfort. I knew I would never get what I hoped for, that hope was always beaten, crushed, forced out of me in some sick and vile way.
As the door slowly drew open, I saw the glint of evil in his eye. I shivered as I felt the cold and hatred fill the room. He slowly crept towards me, cautiously trying to psyche me out. He’d already done that. He pulled away the covers which hid me, and I screamed as he threw a fist at me immediately. I flinched as fist after fist made contact with all parts of my body. I wondered how anyone ever managed to not realise something was wrong in my life. I muffled cries, trying to show strength and bravery against his beatings.
Bravery was never one of my strong points, I suddenly screamed out. I wanted to cry and fight back but I knew that I was too weak to do so, or even implicate some damage on his body. He was like an untouchable, never to be found out and never able to touch.
I suddenly felt the fists stop as he left the room and slammed the door behind me. I didn’t understand, usually he would beat me until I bled or cried out and ran away. It was unusual and I was glad of the break from the torture and beating which constantly filled my soul. I pulled the notebook back from it’s hiding place and began to write again, emotion flowing through me, through the pen, to the pages. The words became sentences, sentences became stanzas and after but a few minutes, I had written another poem.
Every moment I lay,
In a pool of blood,
I lay in torture,
Constant suffering,
The overcastting shadow,
Pain and hatred,
Slowly drains my body,
The angel has came,
The shadow has left,
I’ve survived again,
I’ve beaten the memory.
There it was, covered in tears and blood it may have been, but it was completed and I felt proud that once again I had produced another emotional, yet poetic poem. As I slipped out the window, I wondered whether he would find my book, find the pages filled with scribbling and hatred which I was constantly pulled into. But as I closed the window behind, I travelled in my mind. I was sent back into reality, although the past was reality.
Chapter Seven - Freedom deserved
After days and days of constant sleeping, eating and relaxing, I began to feel ready for my first few steps. I saw each step as a goal, I saw it as an achievement. My wife watched over me with curiosity and cautiousness, making sure that if I stumbled, I wouldn’t fall. Nurses who had watched over me while I was in a coma watching in amazement as I began to progress from a few simple steps, to being able to walk through the immense and beautiful gardens of the hospital.
Every time I managed even a few steps, I would feel more determined to go further. When I had finished my walking, feeling tired and lonely. Knowing my wife would be waiting, I rushed to get back to the hospital bed. As I saw her, she clambered up from the chair in relief and hugged me in her arms. I climbed into my bed and pulled out my poem book, ready to write another poem. But just as I begun to write the first few lines, I saw a man come in and walk to my bedside.
“Mr. Caithness, ever since you have came into this hospital, I have been assessing and evaluating you with your wife’s permission. After weeks of constant watching and waiting, I have noticed that while you sleep, you have frequent disturbances and there must be something that troubles you. Can you tell me that? Can you tell me what it is that troubles you and disturbs your sleep?” The man said with a quietness and gentleness of a woman. I was about to answer his question when my wife butted in, beginning to explain what had happened.
“As what your wife has said is very distressing, I would like to welcome you to join me in an assessment session at my office here in the hospital. As you may not already know, I am a counsellor and I would like to help you break free from your troubles.” The counsellor explained.
Chapter Eight - The Passage To Torture
Another morning began as it usually did, the Venetian blinds of my bedroom window were already open and the sun was shining through the window onto the silk covered king-size bed. As I turned, I knew that my wife wouldn’t be there. She’d be downstairs either cooking breakfast or reading the newspaper. I slipped the sheets away from body and walked towards the en-suite bathroom. As I walked into the bathroom, I noticed my wife had left a message on the window. I pulled the note of the window and read it silently…
Dearest Husband,
Every day with you is another day with an angel. I love the words that you whisper in my ear, I love the lines you write when you fill pages upon pages of beautiful poetry. I tell you this to show you how much I love you and how much I care…
All My Love,
Your forever faithful wife.
I was amazed at how beautiful this handwritten note was, I couldn’t help but allow the tears of joy slip down my cold cheek. As I began to make myself look respectable again, I noticed that in the bedroom was my wife, watching me with intensity. I turned to look at her, and she walked towards me with an ever graceful slide.
“How are you feeling today?” My wife asked with consideration.
“Better, a lot better thanks to your wonderful gestures.” I told her while drawing her close. I felt a surge of energy rush through me as we held each other in a soft embrace. As we both pulled away slowly, our hands brushed against one another and I smiled at her.
“I hope that you have made a wonderful breakfast for me, much like you do every day.” I asked my wife as she glided down the stairs with soft footsteps.
“It’s a surprise as to what you are eating, I won’t tell you until you come down.” She told me. And as the words entered my ears, I walked towards the stairs to find out what she had made me.
I walked into the dining room, and I suddenly noticed the effort that she had made to make this day special. Such a lovely array of food was spread across the table neatly and beautifully, and with each type of food was a note by it’s side.
As I sat down, she whispered in my ear, “for ever food that you eat there is a note telling you how much I care.”
I began to pick up the first note, but as I did so I felt my head begin to spin painfully, my body began to shake and suddenly I blacked out, knowing exactly what was going to happen.
Another Lapse Of Dread - Chapter Nine
The room began to form around me, the well known scene was forming in front of my eyes as I awoke from the cold, hard bed which I was forced to sleep on. The walls around me were damp and stone. The ceiling was wet with the raindrops that had feel from the darkened sky. The floor was cold as I lifted the poor quality sheets away from me and I began to walk across the floor to the door. As I managed to get around half way to the door, I felt sudden pain behind me. I quickly remembered what had happened last night involving my step-dad and his violence seizures or so they were called by my mother. The pain in my back suddenly increased as I tried to continue the path, but it was too much and I collapsed on the floor. The pain suddenly shot through my body but it wasn’t the usual after-pain that was felt when I had taken a beating, instead it was something connecting with my body like a bat or a pipe. I turned to the another swing coming from a dark figure I instantly knew to my step father.
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