The Path

The Path...

        I open my eyes and see this strange lady lying next to me, as if we were a married couple in love. I hear intense knocking on the door, which seemed to come from children, anxious to have breakfast made.  The lady next to me was a middle aged white woman, with blonde hair. Her body was half way on top of the sheets as she battled to get up. She was curvy in all the right places and seemed to be aging well. She peered at me and giggled “Honey, Your Turn” I was in a trace like state and couldn’t even believe she saw me there, let alone recognized me. I barely muttered back “Uh what” She grunted playfully “you’re no good” and climbed out of bed. She threw on a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. The banging on the door ceased as she left the room. I was finally alone and realizing that this strange reality was really happening. I look around for any form of Id, photos, or information as to who I was. I glanced to my left to find a quality leather wallet full of cards, cash, and photos. There was this family, I didn’t to recognize anyone in any of the photos. There was a Black man standing next to a pair brown kids, and the lady, that I had woken up next to. The children were overwhelmingly cute, a little boy about 3 and an older girl that seemed to be about 7. The man was brown skinned, he seemed to be so happy he had… “HONEY, BREAKFAST” she yells! I lose my train of thought as I get up to join the strangers. The house seemed so bright as the morning sun shined through a huge window, and most of the furniture seemed to be white. It all looked so expensive, I sit and join the …My family. I felt indescribably happy as I helped my wife serve pancakes, bacon, toast, and juice to the children. I wondered how I would find their names out. Then I felt a buzzing in my pocket, She seemed to get instantly annoyed “Can’t the office do anything on their own” she teased. I smiled and picked up worried about what might happen next. My focus started to fade quickly, my heart beat picked up rapidly, my blood seemed to freeze. I felt numb.

    WAKE HIM BACK UP DOCTOR! WAKE HIM BACK UP DOCTOR! Franticly yelled a well-dressed man holding some sort of sharp torture device. “What the Hell are you Doing Doc, Day Dreaming” asked the man. I was now in a lab coat, holding a needle with what seemed to be adrenaline. We were in some sort of dark basement, or chamber. There was a Middle Eastern man passed out in a chair chained up. Blood was dripping from his mouth, feet, arm and just about everywhere else. “Doc, Well…. What are you waiting for?” Questioned another man stepping from behind me. He was in what seemed to be a military outfit. He had a thick mustache and seemed older and in charge. I stepped forward scrabbling to find a place to stab him with this needle. I jammed it in his arm, and seconds later he awoke breathing hard. He begged and pleaded in a language I could not understand, but somehow I just knew it was his life he was asking for. The well-dressed man took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves then gripped his front tooth with a rusty pair of plyers, and softly asked “Where is Saudi Quay”? I closed my eyes as the Middle Eastern man muttered the undesired response. Before he could even finish the well-dressed man yanked hard, and blood squirted everywhere. Instantly I felt sick and started to try and wake up, disappear, black out anything to get away from this place. It was hard to focus through the yelling, pleading, banging, cutting, tearing. I kept my eyes closed and tried to remember the family from earlier, I wanted to go back to that happy place. Eventually, I couldn’t hear anything and once again I felt numb…. 

    My eyes were still closed, as I felt some hit me hard in the back. I felt cold water pouring down on me hard. I heard laughing from what seemed to be a bunch of young girls. Once again I felt something hit me hard this time in my shin. I opened my eyes to see a bunch of school girls laughing at me, their faces were red from joy. I was naked in the shower and they were throwing clothes at me. I realized quickly that I was being bullied, and to my surprise I was a young school girl as well. I knew this because I had a set of breast, I seemed to be short and chubby. I could see my dark red hair over my shoulder as I balled up on the floor to avoid being hit in the face by the various items being thrown. Immediately I tried to shift my focus to another place, as if I could control this weird experience. The room went quiet and I jammed my eyes shut tighter. Nothing happened. After maybe ten minutes I gave up and decided to get dressed. I searched the locker room but the only set of clothes were the wet ones in the shower. I guess that was the joke, to throw my own clothes at me. I could feel the anger and frustration building inside of me. I avoided looking at my nudity, I felt it was disrespectful to…. Whoever I was. I decided to put on the damp school dress and soggy shoes. I heard a bell ring loudly three times, and footsteps started clamoring outside of the locker room door. I was nervous to interact with anyone at this point. I planned on leaving the school’s campus and just hiding somewhere until this nightmare was over. After about ten steps into the hall, I was shoved into a locker by this very pretty school girl. I was shocked she was even capable of pushing that hard. She laughed and looked around for anyone besides her friends who were also laughing and blocking the incident from teachers. She smacked my face hard, and instantly my reaction was to hit her back. I felt my blood boiling in rage, I wanted to break her face! I balled up my fist and blacked out.

    I swung and knocked over an old lamp, it fell and broke. I realized I was now in a stuffy, cloudy, small rundown apartment. I heard a raspy voice complaining “Mannnnnn dude that was my favorite lamp man, now it’s like… free, FAR OUT MAN” He passed a huge bong towards me, with lots of smoke coming from his nose. Everything started to seem to so vibrant and alive. I seemed to sink deeply into the couch as if I were melting. I wondered who I was, where was I, What I was? I had morals and thoughts so I had to be someone, I just couldn’t seem to remember who. The shaggy guy next to me attempted to pass the huge bong towards me again. I decided to indulge on the opportunity and inhaled from it deeply as my eyes closed I seemed to melt, then float away.

    As my eyes opened It all came back to me, I knew again who and what I was. I instantly felt so much disgust towards myself, I remembered how much I hated myself. I realized that I had been dreaming, being hunted by a dark past that I could not escape, even if I wanted too. I climbed out of my small bed, I lived above a pharmacy that I owned and worked in. I walked into my bathroom to wash my face in attempt to wash some of the dirt off of my conscious. I wet a rag with warm water, and scrubbed my face viciously. As I peered into the mirror, I remember the first man I had ever killed. He was the man from the first part of my dream. He came into my pharmacy for heart pills that he depended on. I knew his condition was bad from his medical records. I began to bet myself as to how long he had left. I wagered with myself two months, three months, and then four. I grew tired of losing. I decided I would up his dosage and mix his prescription, a deadly combination; a bet I could not lose. Once the deed was done I was so excited, I had to see the results with my own eyes. I drove to his address early that next morning. It was a beautiful morning the sun was shining through his huge window. I could see his whole family franticly yelling for help as his face crashed hard on their kitchen table. I could feel a giggly tingle in my belly as I reflected on this.

    After that I knew I had just experienced my first of many highs. It was like a drug, even having thoughts of bringing someone’s life to an end gave me a buzz. I was a miserable person but at least these little murderous highs gave me small periods of grace.   I was always made to believe I was weak, but taking life made me feel so powerful. The doctor from my second dream, he was weak. He just watched my wife die, as if he couldn’t do anything to help her. She was very sick with phenomena, and he was supposed to be a good doctor.  A week after she passed, I gave the doctor a visit. I blamed him for her death. I explained to him that I wanted to discuss matters about her death, I tried to be as vague as I could until he agreed to meet with me. I arrived at his home around 7, I was careful no one saw me. I was in my finest clothes, with a suitcase on my side as I rung his door bell. He answered after a couple knocks, he was a frail, white older man who seemed strained and stressed. Three steps into the door, I turned around and hit him as hard as I could in the head with the edge of my suit case. He feel unconscious as I quickly closed the door. When he awoke he was tied up from neck to foot in rope I had packed in my suit case. I slowly slit his throat, I could feel his life force slipping away. I relished in joy as blood drizzled down to the floor. I protected myself from any evidence and even broke windows from the outside, cleaned out his wallet and knocked things around to make it look like a robbery gone terribly wrong. 

    I grinned, and rejoiced thinking of my accomplishment.  I prepared a shower to begin my work day. Soon as the water begin to run I thought back to the young teenage girl, from my dream. She had come in my pharmacy convinced that something was wrong with her, and that I was a doctor who could help. I pleaded with her to calm down and tell me what was wrong. She expressed that she was bleeding in her private area, and was too embarrassed to tell anyone else what was going on. I told her that she had come to the right place, and that I could fix her. It was almost like my cynical behavior had took over, and I was just there to watch. I told her to follow me up stairs to my shower, and claimed that she had to first get cleaned up. She trusted me and followed me upstairs. She undressed, and I quickly looked away. I was not some p*****t, I have morals. After a couple minutes of her showering I slipped into the bathroom with a small knife in hand. She didn’t even hear me arrive so when I first stabbed her she was completely shocked. I continued to stab her until my arm was tired and she was on the floor lifeless. I put what was left of her into large trash bags and delivered her to a dump yard to be burned. 

    I knew I was sick and disgusting; I didn’t feel like I deserved to live any longer. After my shower I contemplated on whether or not I should end my life now and spare anyone else the trouble. Down stairs under the register was a 350 magnum in case anyone tried to rob the place, I could use that.  I had decided, I’ll end this miserable excuse I called a life. I made my way downstairs, grabbed the gun and loaded it fully just to be sure. Honestly I was finding excuses to waste time. I even opened the store up, so they could find my corpse. It was time, I was going to do it…… Without thinking I reached for the gun fully intended on suicide ……. And I heard “Sir Do you sell cough drops here” It was a very young boy. He was so weak and vulnerable. Surely this was a sign, I was meant to do this, so I will…………..