The Mnemophobic

The crooked street writhed through the accursed neighborhood of decrepit and ramshackled dwellings while I wandered on despite sensing the hostility it's inhabitants had for me. The lights that once illuminated the streets dimmed and turned off in the presence of my damned soul. I walked by each house in search of some sort of warmth in this state perpetual gloom but soon all the lights were off and it was evident that the night had finally consumed the day.

The pathway was endless but I continued to walk until a thought trickled through my mind. What was I doing here? People will never understand how a person feels in a state of amentia but in that moment I understood perfectly well. The fear of being completely blank was so overwhelming that my body shook with tremors. I panicked looking everywhere in search of someone, anyone. Deep and sinister shadows grew on the pavement towards me. A rancid stench of urine and decay came to me, so much as to make me vomit. I fought my state of complete immobilization and followed the one basic instinct that could save me. Run.

Sweating and panting I tried to reach the corner, but I wasn't an inch closer than I was a few moments ago. My heart was beating as if it would come out of my chest in any given instant. My hair stuck to the precipitation on my face when I turned back only to witness the shadows taking form. Within a split second my foot hit an uneven slab of pavement causing the momentum to push me face first into a puddle. My eyes opened to the dry rugged carpet that pressed against my nose and the noise of the beating of my heart that could've have easily silenced the best of drummers. My hands held my chest above my heart as I curled up due to the pain in every beat. There I laid in silence comforted by the familiarity of my room.