A trip down memory lane

Stuck in the darkness of his own mind, Mason was furious. Everything was black. His eyes felt heavy and wouldn't open, like they had been super glued shut. Confusion overwhelmed the poor boy until the strong sickening stench of the antiseptic wafted through his room causing a nauseating feeling to churn in his stomach.  The pressure built in his head as the irritating beeping noise of the heart monitor was magnified by the deafening silence in the room. The beeping fastened as panic over came him. He felt paralysed. His frustration grew as the impending feeling of abandonment settled in. The weight of a thin sheet that was draped across his withering body could be felt. The door squeaked open allowing cold air-conditioned air to bite at Mason's exposed skin. The intruder who entered could be heard fiddling with hospital equipment and without warning he drifted back into unconsciousness.

He was awoken by cursing and the rattling of keys that reverberated throughout the silent house. Mason begrudgingly left his warm bed and immediately regretted it when his feet touched the floor. The cold chill of the tiles seeped through the holes in his socks.  Blinking away his dreams Mason blindly began making his way down the old creaky stairs which groaned with discomfort under his steps. Slowly creeping to the door in his tired state, Mason finally reached the source of the rattling. Peeking through the rusty peep hole he was relieved to see that it was his parents making the awful racket. Quickly opening the door for them, Mason went to greet them the way he normally would. Although he could sense a sudden shift in the air and was instantly in discomfort. Instead of a hug he was met with a hard hit to the face sending him flying to the ground. The foul stench of alcohol drifted around him as his parents stood over the weak looking boy and headed into the cold dank house. That's when the screaming match began, but this time it was directed at him.

He could feel the tears resurfacing as he rediscovered the memory, first of many. It had felt so real. As if his mother hadn't betrayed him, as if his father hadn't beaten him. But he was lost in the now familiar black abys wondering why the tears wouldn't fall. He felt like he was imbedded so far into a pit of quick sand that he couldn't move or be saved. The grains of sand slipped through his fingers reminding him of his inability to regain his sweet longing of consciousness. The pressure on his chest increased from the sand causing the poor boy to slowly suffocate drowning in his screams. His heart started pounding a mile a minute and beads of sweat started to mix with the salty tears streaming down his stone cold face. The feeling of fright fought its way to the surface as the young boy heard the one voice that could normally control his panic attacks. Her voice was as sweet as honey but to Mason it sounded like finger nails running down a chalk board. It made him want to scream for but his voice was choked far back in his throat and his mouth felt glued shut.

Confused from their screams of disappointment, Mason was left cradling his frail body in shock until reality finally kicked in. Slightly wobbling he managed to stand. The unfamiliar impact had left an unsettling sting where his father's hand had come in contact with his cheek. Mason dizzily followed his parents into the old decrepit kitchen where they were fumbling with chipped dirty dishes. His father was enraged for reasons beyond Mason's knowledge and when he saw the anger in his father's eyes flickering like the flames of a raging fire he knew subconsciously that the worst was yet to come. Salty tears, caused by his father's hateful words, streamed down his cheeks. In an attempt to silence Mason's blubbering, his father without warning threw a glass aimed for Mason's head. The glass sailed through the air, missed Mason and collided with the edge of the bench to his right. The glass shattered sending small shards ricocheting onto the floor. The sound of the smash caused Mason to recoil away. The wide-eyed child, now understanding the insufficient neglect of his parents, turned and ran up the stairs. Mason slipped on the tiny fragments of the brittle substance beneath his feet. His feet now sliced and bloody. Mason felt as though he could escape. He was nearly to the top of the staircase. Just a couple more steps to go. His heart pounded in the confines of his small chest. Freedom filled him and was just as quickly ripped from him as he felt fingers curl around his ankle. Mason was dragged back down. His head hit the steps repeatedly and his vision was turning cloudy. The tangy metallic taste of blood danced on his tongue and dripped from his nose. The beating continued until black dots blotted his vision. He was losing consciousness. Mason could feel himself slipping away. He didn't know when it stopped but his last fleeting vision was of his mother embracing him. How could she let this happen to her only son? How could she just stand back and allow this to continue? Escape enveloped Mason in the black abyss of the deepest depths of his mind.

Mason's mothers voice was still echoing in a steady rhythem around his mind. Pins and needles creeped into his hands and feet. The tingling swiftly became agonizing as the sensation wormed its way through his body. The pain was excruciating. Mason wished for it to end. He needed to move. To run away. Mason no longer wanted to be trapped in what he was beginning to realise was the confines of his own mind. It was as though a chain was wrapped tightly around his body. The cool air refused to enter his lungs. The chain tightened, link by link. Mason was suffocating. He was panicking. It was too tight. It was strangling him. In Mason's last seconds a speck of light appeared in the surrounding abyss. It gave him hope. He wriggled and struggled and miraculously the chain started to loosen. He could breathe again. The light became clearer and the black abyss diminished as Mason opened his eyes. It was bright, too bright. He squinted and when his surroundings came into focus his mother was the first thing he saw. She approached Mason, silent and stealth like. Then unexpectedly she screamed. The horrified noise filled the small space of the hospital room. Mason's ears rang. He screamed in return, unsure of what was happening. The door burst open and his father entered. His mother's screams intensified. Mason's father stalked toward the hospital bed in which Mason was lying. Mason shyed away when his father raised his fist. He clenched his eyes shut waiting for the stinging impact although it never came. Mason could feel his body being shaken and when he reopened his eyes he was startled to see that he was in his bedroom with his parents leaning over him, their faces contorted with concern. "It's okay sweetie it was just a dream. It was only a dream."