Slipping into the dark

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

The rain poured and I felt the dark clouds over my head cry with me at the demise of my mum. It hit me so hard, my entire world crumbled before my very eyes. Since then, I became extremely introverted, secretive and quite repulsive as a means of protection. However, even if I could protect myself from the outside world, could I protect myself from me?

I could feel the possessiveness tug at my soul from within. The demeaning words my mind whispered... it was difficult to fight back when the pain was internal, feeding slowly on my insides. It seemed like my own mission impossible as I couldn't shut it out without hurting myself, and most times the pain didn't shut it despite the mental anguish. I decided to try ignoring it today, emphasis on try. I opened the door to my room after minutes of trying to make a pathway through my ever-increasing pile of clothes. Making my way to the kitchen, I poured myself coffee before walking to my mum who sat in the library hunchbacked, laptop on the table, eyes strained...believe me when I say this woman will kill herself with work someday. I glanced at the mug of coffee in my hands. I hadn't added sugar yet and since mum liked hers plain, well...

"Here," She looked up finally noticing my presence. She took in large gulps before handing me an empty mug,

I need to leave...emergency" she said lowly. I plastered a knowing smile.

Mum was a certified health worker with more than ten awards and fifteen certificates. A very devoted and hard-working woman. Dad was even worse. He hadn't come home since the October of the previous year all in the name of being committed to work but I didn't really care, did I? Mum scurried out of the house and I couldnt help but fear she'll kill herself one of these days saving another's life. She didn't even give me a hug, I mumbled under my breath pouting. Then, it hit me hard. Like a wave for a beginner in surfing or a baseball bat on my head. Mum was dead...officially dead and buried. I was even at her funeral but I still see her.... and many other non-existent things and people. For the sake of being reasonable, I'd diagnosed myself with psychotic depression but I was probably wrong. I still couldn't tell my dad though he was a doctor because he's too religious, would see me as a possessed witch and take me for deliverance session or even kick me out. A pile of mess welcomed me and I lay on my used-to-be-floor sinking deeper into the clothes. I didn't even find comfort here, it felt like even mere clothes were pushing me away. Then it started again, the possessiveness and the darkness... cascading my soul ever so slowly. First, I could feel my being sink into the darkness until I was transported to a whole new place, not a happy one but the place where mum died. Normally, it was just the scene replaying involuntarily inside my head but today was different. I could see mum in her BMW driving at minimum speed in her own lane when a stupid, idiotic, nuisance driver felt the need to drive one-way at full speed. I could see mum's eyes widen in shock and beads of tears trickle down my cheeks.

"NOOO!!!" I was screaming at the top of my lungs, my hands extended as if doing that will pull her out. Then, it happened, the moving vehicles collided and the large truck crushed my mum's precious BMW recklessly ticking her off the lane. Then, my eyes widened in horror and I froze as I viewed the reckless truck driver finish his work and crush my mum's body. Blood oozed from her forehead and her eyes stayed wide open. She was dead, motionless. I screamed and screamed mad from the pain of the tragedy. A surge of energy coursed my veins at uncontrollable speed as I felt my battered soul regain its position in my body and I lay there in uttermost shock. My eyes threatened to close but could I really sleep after that haunting day mare? I ran a hand through my hair in an attempt to regain my composure then finally made my way to the neighborhood park. I sat on the grass in my usual position resting on a tree's bark. My knees crawled up to my chest, chin rested on them for support and hands wrapped round them for protection. This posture made me safe and at the same let me think. I shamelessly rocked on the floor for what seemed like hours and made my way to my bedroom before deciding to settle down for bed. Dad obviously wasn't coming home this evening.