Memory

Dark winding paths, treacherous for all who dare to follow, lead to a destination that is never changing. Paths deliberately walked upon by those who feel that they shall not be burned by the licking flames that line the trail. But fools they are, for no one may walk these trails but those who have been chosen. The ser few that have walked these roads of madness out of arrogance and cockiness have been driven mad halfway through their journey. So it is here where they shall remain locked away, caged by bars of insanity and locks of evil. This is a place where evil knows no foe; where the sadistic pleasures of twisted minds seem like mere childs play. Here there lives a torment worse than any of the physical kind. Here is where the mind is scarred beyond repair and the soul is ripped asunder. This is the unyielding fate of those whom dare to walk upon these paths without being chosen. And for those chosen few who walk this path uninterrupted, they must witness a pain that is so terrorizing and unforgettable that they themselves feel as if they cannot go on. The betrayal and violation of a soul and body so horrifying to watch, the fierce soul-splitting blows made without fists and the sharp slicing cuts made upon a once pure body almost to sickening to gaze upon. Here is the place where it plays over and over never-ending always the same.

These paths I speak of are the walkways that travel through my mind and they all end up leading to the same place. To that constant memory that refuses to be pushed back into the deepest recesses of my mind; that insists that it be remembered and that I experience the pain forever and a day. Persistently reminding me of his cold, almost dead seeming eyes of deep hazel piercing me with their gaze telling me of his intent, but nothing could have prepared me for what was to come. Nothing could prepare me for being violated by one I once trusted beyond a shadow of a doubt. His biting evil remarks cutting me down emotionally before the physical abuse even began. As his verbal insults cut deeper into my soul he used a sharp razor to cut upon my bronze skin starting first with a long shallow cut that trailed from the inside of my left wrist up my inner arm to my elbow. He did so with painstaking slowness that elicited the maximum amount of pain, and he whispered into my ear that he wanted to be as slow as possible, he wanted me to feel all of the pain, to shriek with the wretchedness of it. I cried out, my voice wrought with pain, "Why are you doing this David? I trusted you!! Oh God Why???"
"You want to know why Im doing this?" He brings the blood-slicked blade to my upper arms, "I'll tell you" A quick flash of the blade slices a new incision across my shoulder. "You remember Robby? That innocent boy I was stupid enough to introduce you to?? I was so stupid for doing that" Hiss; there goes another flick of the blade. "You dated him and broke his heart; ripped it straight out of his chest." Another Hiss resounds through my head as the blood begins to coat my arms. "You destroyed him. You know he committed suicide soon after that, said if he couldnt have you life wasnt worth living" Hiss "Do you have any idea how painful it is to watch somebody you love go through such wretched pain and know its your fault?? " Hiss, slice "And now you will get what you deserve"

He then brought that same blade now tinted with the deep color of my blood to the sensitive skin upon the right curve of my collarbone and started a series of short but deep diagonal cuts that made a jagged trails across my chest and breasts; and by the time he has done with that stage of his torture my upper body was coated in my own crimson blood and I was weeping, the salty tears burning my skin as they fall upon the cuts he had made. And all the while he was grinning and laughing telling me I deserved it all. I tried to open my mouth to protest but the pain was just too strong. My eyes had then begun to glaze over as the loss of blood began to take its toll but before I could drift into a blessed state of unconsciousness he yanked me from the calming darkness into a world of horrible pain as he began cutting long deep incisions into my inner thighs each a minimum of three inches, each stroke varying from the next, sometimes slow and as deep as possible or fast ones that overlap a previously made cuts. A broken cry burst from my lips, expressing all the pain in one resounding sound, and he just smiled. Exquisite torture he called it; well he was half right, it was torture. By that time I was begging for death, praying to an unknown god to take me from this earth so I could escape this horrible world quickly. But then with a sadistic smile upon his face he whipped out a cell phone and called no other number but 911. After he was off the phone he said it was not enough that I suffered the exquisite torture he bestowed upon me, but that I must now live with the scars he had inflicted for all the days of my life. Every time I look in the mirror, take a shower, or get dressed in the morning I would think of him and remember what he did to me. Remember every cut, every comment, each and every maniacal laugh or giggle; all of it would be there flashing into my head every time I even came close to happiness. And with those parting words he took a pistol from his bag and shot himself right in front of me. His hot blood sprayed my body, I was now drenched with a thick mixture of his blood and my own. The darkness began to overwhelm me then and my head rolled to the side. I lie there and stared directly into those hazel eyes once so full of love, then hate, and now they are just empty...Why David? Why? Then it is just a world of Darkness

I lived through that horrible experience and now just as he predicted I hear his voice, see his face, and feel the pain each and every time I look in the mirror, changed my clothes, or take a shower. So many therapists tried to invade my thoughts and get into my head to analyze how someone can function after such a terrorizing experience none of them really cared that I was a human being and perhaps didnt want to relive that experience a hundred times for the benefit of their research. All they wanted to do was continue trying to but their way into a place they were not invited. For them I gave the most horrible and terrorizing description explaining it in a way that they felt as if they were there, and they felt the burn of those licking flames that line the paths of my mind. And they unknowingly drag themselves into a cage of insanity that they cannot get free of. But even when I want to be with some one, to let them know, how can someone have a relationship with someone who has experienced things that the darkest of minds cringe at; somebody who bears never-fading scars as deep on their body as they are on their soul. How do you live with someone that flinches at the sight of hazel eyes or an unknown deep voice? Happiness is unattainable, for now every time I open my heart and mind to someone they get caught up in that memory and witness a pain that is so terrorizing and unforgettable that they themselves feel as if they cannot go on.