Happy is he who...writes from the love of imparting certain thoughts and not from the necessity of sale-who writes always to the unknown friend.

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)





Friday, October 19, 2012

Entry # C2





                                                                     REMEMBER ME!
                                                                   SHANNON MEAD

    In the days before my birth I remember the doctor telling my mother that she wasn’t sure if my life would be long and without difficulty. I have a heart that is never going to work correctly without a transplant, and one of my arms is missing a hand. My parents were told keeping the pregnancy was not wise but my mother would not hear of it. She stood by her belief that even a few years were better than nothing.

   I was born on a very stormy night so bad in fact that the lights went out just as I let out my first breath. Upon my birth the earth shook and the walls rumbled, every time I cried people would cover their ears as my shriek was enough to make a hearing person deaf. The hospital chaplain came to see my parents and confer with them about what they thought God was doing when he blessed them with a soul such as mine. Mom was dumbfounded she had no words. My father said that he was sure it was punishment for his past indiscretions.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                    I slowly discovered that as each day ticked by my world became more wicked and dark. By the time I was two months old both my parents lost a parent within two weeks of each other. My grandmother suffered a stroke from which she could not recover from, and my grandfather was killed by a drunk driver coming home from the grocery store. My father started going back to church he swore that all that was in me was pure evil. My shrills seemed to be less irritating though my mother had to wear ear plugs in order to be around me as she developed an anxiety condition brought on by my crying. The doctor wanted to admit her for testing but my father refused to hear of it.   
 
    The neighbor’s dog mauled six feral cats and buried their remains in a hole dug under his dog house, causing an increased number of buzzards to stake squatters’ rights on our roof top. I had difficulty breathing so I was forced to wear oxygen all day every day; something mom always made sure was in abundance so that I could live though deep in my soul I knew something was different about who I was and who I was meant to be.

  At six months old I started to crawl and anything within my grasp was fair game and I found candles were a toy of choice. My mom stupidly always kept them lit and what’s worse down where I could reach them. I set the couch cushion and the cat’s tail on fire and for some strange reason it gave me pleasure in hearing the cat howl in pain.

  My poor mother was beside herself. She had no idea how to handle either situation. It drove her crazy not wanting to admit it was her fault for each event as she was the one who left the fires burning. My father at this point did all he could was stay away from home for he feared me; just the look in his eye was enough to see that. My mother would discover later he had a woman on the side and they had a child the same time I was born so was my sister though she was healthy a relief to my father.

  At age two I was crawling out of my crib in the middle of the night and see what kind of chaos I could create, By this time my father had left us he could stand it no longer he had a healthy child that he could be a father too without fear of losing her at an early age. My sister and I would never meet but I learned later she was became a doctor for children with autism. I’m proud of her being her older brother just wish I had been there to see it all unfold.

  My mother began to slip into a state of mental illness and she started telling family members she saw the devil in me and that I was evil and mean spirited. She may have been right as more dead creatures became visible around our home. I found it pleasing to hurt innocent creatures, and watch as they anguished till the life drained out of them. I was taken to a child psychologist who determined that I was just a normal toddler
with a touch of ADHD. I was sent home with a prescription and a wish of good luck to my mom. Dad had stopped coming around all together and eventually they divorced which was even worse for my mom’s illness.

  I think mom really did start to see the worst in me, as she herself was afraid to be alone with me for extended periods of time. One night the storms started again and she leaned over to give me a kiss good night and she began to scream that my eyes were a shade of red, and that they were glowing.  She ran to the bathroom and slammed the door and crouched in a corner and cried. She prayed for God to help her to know what to do as she was lost and needed guidance.

  That night the storm grew worse and worse just like the night I was born, and all of the sudden the walls began to shake as if an earthquake was right under my house.  I was thrown out of my bed and up against the wall. Mom came running out of her room screaming that the devil was coming to get her and it was my fault and she once again locked herself in the bathroom. The storm passed just as quickly as it came and it was if it had never come at all.

  That night mom emerged from her cocoon of salvation and fixed my bed, tucked me in, kissed me good night and began to sing Jesus Loves Me. She ran her fingers through my hair till I fell asleep. Then as if something had overcome her she took the spare pillow off my bed, and without hesitation covered my face until all the life had disappeared out of my tiny body. A few days later my father received a phone call telling him that I was dead and that he needed to come and identify our bodies. Yes I said our bodies. A week after my mother had taken both of our lives a neighbor called reporting a foul odor emanating from our home.

   The police entered our home to find my mother lying in a pool of blood on my bed room floor. After she had smothered me she slit her wrists, took me out of bed and held on to me while every last bit of blood left her body. Two bodies molded together as one once alive now dead and gone. My father went back to his other family and never looked back, never speaking of us again.

 In all this story telling I realized I forgot to introduce myself to you. My name is Damian and I am an angel sent to earth by Lucifer himself to cause chaos and destruction. I have been reborn in any forms and always do my job to make the world a hated place to live. So what do you think are you game to try and beat me? If I’m able to I will try to make my way to you so we can play.

 
  
  
 
 

 















  



  
                                    
                                            

1 comment:

  1. Great story shannon, I liked the twist at the end :)

    ReplyDelete