The mind is a powerful thing. When set into the wrong state of mind, the body is overcome with overpowering emotions, regardless of irrationality and stupidity. One’s heart may speak louder then the voice of reason, but often more then not, the mind overcomes a person weak of mind and soul and eats them alive with foolish or sinful thoughts. This, in turn, creates a ‘false’ state of mind, thus creating an artificial sense of peace and tranquility. The mind can make you believe whatever it will, true or not. Man kind’s greatest gift is the mind. It is the mechanism that sets the human race far more advanced then any other species, and yet, it can overpower the human in such a way, that illusions are created in the fabrications of the fragile mind. What happens to the fool that believes one is well when he is dying? Man kind’s greatest weakness is also the mind. It contorts all aspects of life, if given the freedom, it can destroy the life as well. It is, in that sense, that the theory that overcoming the mind must be achieved. Can one overcome the mind? Or is it madness?

The apartment had been transformed into its own silent and exclusive memory of hell. As she stared at the wall, thinking thoughts of dead space, she realized that this place was so desolate and eerie. No longer was it filled with the bleeding memories of love and hope. Now, it was copiously lain with memories of terror and anguish. She recalled again and again the image of Vincent. It still felt as if he were there, at the door, watching her and scowling. What bitter thoughts of love he had left her with. Her hatred for the woman who had stolen him away from her seared into her mind. Voluptuous thoughts scattered, leaving her empty and barren of all emotions and thoughts of pleasure. What was now was no longer. In the stillness, there came the sudden shout of the phone, as if screaming to her. Her hands, that were placed upon her lap, crisscrossed and twitching, shot towards the bed stand, grasping the phone with what would be considered a death-grip. Her heart pounded in her chest. It was as if the phone was a menace to her. She was relieved that it was indeed the phone. Everything, now, seemed to have a malicious intent towards her. She answered it cautiously.

“Hello?” she asked, hearing the static her phone often made due to horrible reception.

“Hey, Sophitia. I was wondering if you wanted to come to church tonight? It’s at six thirty,” the voice was somewhat familiar and it only took a short amount of time to realize that it was Roxanne. She had been Sophitia’s friend ever since High School. The word ‘church’ made her shiver. All the times she had been to church, she had had something tragic or hurtful emotionally happen to her. She was hesitant to answer.

“So, have you talked with Kali or Vincent, lately?” she questioned, without answering her.

“Oh, no. I don’t really know Vincent and Kali and I haven’t talked for several weeks now,” Roxanne sighed, and Sophitia sighed in relief and rested the phone upon her shoulder as she picked her cuticles with her fingers nervously. She winced and stuck her finger in her mouth as blood surfaced from where she had pulled the cuticle.

“Well, I don’t know. I’ve been really busy lately. Though, I suppose I might attend. It’s been awhile since I’ve been to church,” she said, and sighed heavily. She had trouble ever being able to turn someone down. Plus, it’d been quite some time since she had spent time with Roxanne. Ever since High School had ended, her time with her friends had grown short.

It never occurred to her that she feared church. Never before had she sat down and confronted herself over her fear of holy ordinance. What other reason for not attending church then to have no time? Often, she made excuses for not being able to make it to church, even when Roxanne would invite her, on occasion. She just felt overwhelmingly guilty, especially after what had happened with her friend Kali earlier. She didn’t hang up the phone when she was done, but instead, sat there listening to the monotonous beeping of the tone. She waited until there was only silence before deciding to hang it up. She sighed heavily and yawned. If ever there was a time when she needed the holy spirit to overcome her, it was now. She felt the need to attend church more then ever. Maybe now would be the opportune time to confront God, upfront and personal.

As night enveloped the world and the thousand shades of purple and blue became a light black, Sophitia headed out of her home and to the church that she had only attended at Christmas with Vincent. The road was smooth as she made her way there, and she knew she were just coming for pain. She knew the only emotions church could now possibility bring was a deep sense of regret and hopelessness. She doubted her reasoning before, and began to think twice about even considering coming to church for Roxanne’s sake. Yet, she continued to drive that all too familiar path, feeling quiet Closter phobic in the busy traffic. Her eyes drooped and her heart beat too quickly for it to be a normal pace. The signs of ever-growing darkness were ignored. Every hope for her recovering faded away upon that road. There was nothing anyone could ever do for someone so lost in self-contemplation. She held her breath as she drove into the church parking lot and found a place to park.

The cathedral was immense. It’s pillars seemed to rise evermore as she entered and found her heart nearly stopping. Her breath was so irregular that she flet as if she would pass out. It was this feeling that rose within her, that she did not belong. She knew herself impure, and therefore unwelcome in the presence of God. How ever did she believe she were worthy? The stained glass on either side of the pews rose almost as high as the pillars and were dark and almost foreign images to her as she made her way down the aisle. She did not pay any attention to the people within the pews, for she was lost within those images of Jesus on the stained glass, darkened by nightfall. Did he himself become darkened by nightfall? Was she weak herself for becoming darkened by the unavoidable night? Each night, as the world faced more and more away from her, so did her heart become. Darkness, what a stealthy and unavoidable menace. It dawns upon the unsuspecting victim, inflicing the venom of sin within the chosen, and then it bleeds throughout. Her life was based upon impurities, and yet, her feeble and impractical hopes that Vincent and she would always be together, buried the sin, the dark deeds that now plagued her and swallowed her whole.

Her childish ambitions had made her believe, though they were fornicating the basis of God’s will and delving themselves within their own heart’s dark pleasures, it never occurred to her that they may end up alone, in the end. She swallowed hard and continued on to find a suitable pew. She felt embarrassed and watched. Every time someone looked upon her face, she knew they knew all of her atrocities and she knew why they all smiled. They smiled because they knew, soundly, that they were to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. They smiled because they were happy that they were right with God, and that she was not. They all mocked her and her sinful ways. What a foolish child she must be, to believe in a love strong enough to outlast the imprudent years that they were now upon. She felt her face become hot and intense. She could not think straight and she needed to sit. The first available pew she found, she sat upon. She made sure no one was sitting there, and looked upon the altar. It made her head become fuzzy and her neck stiff. Somehow, her whole body began to boil and her stomach churned. The bright lights became more intense then she ever remembered, and she felt she were in the great spotlight of the Divine. She was to be condemned that night. She fidgeted in her seat.

The choir filed in, in a straight line and looking very holy and certain, watching the crowd of worshipers in curiosity and continued forward. Sophitia had not seen Roxanne yet. Maybe Roxanne had forgotten. Or, maybe, this was all a setup by Kali, to get her to repent. She began to feel a great sense of resentment. What the hell did they think they were doing? The church was packed, and she felt pressured to stay sitting, though her heart told her to flee. IT felt as if the Heaven’s mocked her. The choir began to sing, on quite a lovely note at that. Sophitia tried to drown them out by tapping her feet. She wanted to ignore their words, their holy way. What was wrong with her? She suddenly broke down on her knees. She began to rock back and forth, convulsing in ways she did not believe she could do in public view. Her whole body heaved upon the floor. She was sitting in such a way that no one could see her. It was dark beneath the pews and she felt sheltered. She still convulsed. She held her hands together and began to pray.

“Dear Lord. Oh, my Almighty Lord. Have mercy upon my poor and unworthy soul. Please, hear my plea. For, surely you alone can hear my prayers and answer them. Dear Lord, I need your guidance. Vincent has left me, my friends are abandoning me, what shall I do? I have sinned, it is true…but you cannot stop me. They wanted me to kill them. I could hear them. They begged me to,” her body fell upon the floor, and her eyes became darker. She was raising her voice more loudly as she finally lost control.

“They told me to. Their sweet alls made me. The children in the gardens laughed at me, called me mad. But, rest assured divine one, that I made sure they paid for their sins, all of them. I could see each of their sins; each in turn got their just reward for not repenting. I could taste their sweet blood, as I have tasted my own…what a wonderful taste it is upon my lips, how I crave it so,” she slammed her fists upon the floor, the choir stopped singing and everyone stood around her. Yet, she did not seem to notice. “Th-they asked for it. I tried to warn them. Lord, please. I have sinned. I have sinned by the fornication of my body, how I sinned and what pleasure it brought me,” she began to laugh, “all of it. Every moment when my body became one, when I felt his fingers upon my body in places I dare say were sinful, what must I do at that moment but smile? Lust, what sweet blood did pour from my lips when I slaughter in my hand, those who’ve committed the same crime as I,” she stopped, though her eyes appeared sightless. She stared down upon her hands. “I sin the same,” she did not see the people standing around her and the people coming to rush her away. “I-I am a sinner,” she began madly laughing and pointing at the people around her, making them jump back in fright. “I-I bleed. I am but human. Damn you for condemning me for being what I am! For being who I wish to be! Damn you all to hell for judging the surface rather then delving deeper. Shallow mindless whores!” she spat, and she stood, her feet seemed to give out on her.

Men came as she screamed, kicked and fought. They did not offer her any help. No guidance to the word of God. Instead, they threw her out, disillusioned, upon the street.

“Stupid psycho,” they muttered, as she cried on the sidewalk.

“Why did you leave me, Vincent? Why…why…why,” her voice started to fade as her voice broke and gave out on her in her own dismay. She stared up at the cross on the church as rain began to fall. She no longer cared that it splattered upon her eyes or upon her entire body as it began to fall more and more thickly. She crawled over to the side, near the bushes, hoping to be shielded. In her state, there was no going home tonight. She knew that she could not rest easily, even in the comforts of her own bed. Now, more then ever, the nightmares that had plagued her seemed to welcome her home. She clasp the necklace upon her and balled herself up to keep her warm. Tonight, she would be no more then another homeless, lost among the masses. Why was Roxanne not there? Why had Kali only offered her to mental help instead of her friendship and guidance? Why had Vincent left her like this? She felt the wet grass moisten her jacket and make her whole body tremble in the chill. She could do nothing in her state, but try to remember times before. She could only comfort herself with memories that would never come again, because her life would never be the same, for she was no longer who she was. She was doomed. “It was for love…Lord, my actions were always for love,” she turned on her other side, staring at the hedges before her, becoming extremely drowsy and irritated. “Wasn’t it?” she asked, hoping for an answer. The dark sky left her in stillness and bitter resentment. There was no response to her call, for regardless of whether she knew it or not, she had forgotten how to listen.

Memories of Love

The soft, cotton sheets, so pleasant to touch, welcomed them. As he lay his body upon hers, the feel of his baby soft skin relaxed her and eased her hesitations. His eyes, a light sapphire blue, stared upon her gazing her body before letting his divinely curved lips caress her own. She wrapped her arms around him, pushing his face towards hers as she let his gentle tongue slide into her mouth with utter satisfaction. She played like this a while, taunting and teasing, her naked body kissing his own so warmly and enticingly. He slid his hands down her back and continued until he’d reached her butt, lightly caressing it. She let out a little moan as he positioned himself over her. Her heartbeat got more intense. She knew what this meant. What promises she’d made herself she slowly melted with her intense feelings, desires. He pushed himself into her and she thrust her head backwards, groaning. His pace was a little quick, yet not too slow. She knew the beat and the quickening of her breath like she knew the sun and the moon. It never got old and it never ceased to amaze her. Her hands were out, grasping the bed, tightening and loosening her grip in an erratic manner. She called his name and suddenly she realized where she was.

“Vincent…” she sighed, and his movement ceased. Her closed eyes were sealed shut, for she did not wish to awaken, and she dared not spoil her passion. She let the grip on the bed loosen and her body slightly moved, Vincent still within her. He moved on top of her again, but he placed all of his weight upon her, nearly suffocating her. Her eyes shot open. Vincent had fallen upon her. His face was over her shoulder and he didn’t move. She struggled to move him. “Vince, come on. This isn’t funny,” she begged, thrusting him to the side with all of her might. He lay on his back now, as she panted from exhaustion, closing her eyes. “Why are you giving me the silent treatment? I mean, come on,” she insisted, placing a hand on his arm. He was freezing cold. “How can you be so-” she froze in her words, a sick feeling of vomit erupting from her throat and making her dizzy. Her blood froze. Vincent lay motionless, clammy, and dead upon the bed. Immobilized by fear, Sophitia muffled a scream by memorizing herself with the horrific sight of Vincent and his eyeless sockets, staring forevermore. She found a sudden adrenaline rush overcome her and make her swiftly flee the bed, stumbling on the covers and making her fall. Quickly, breath heavy and burning in her chest, she rose again, recovering. When she placed her eyes upon the bed again, the body was gone.

Her eyes darted warily around the room. What had happened to his lifeless body? Only seconds before he was right there! A dead body can’t move! She settled herself in the unnerving silence. Her own heartbeat, stealthily quickening with every second of that stillness that overcame her. She stepped backwards, her chest heaving with a sudden spurt of anxiety. Her own silence became perplexity and she became extremely tense, seat droplets forming upon her forehead.

The wall behind her began to move, becoming discolored and almost watery. She didn’t seem to notice as the room became dark and the creature squirmed its way out of the wall in an erratic manner. Its body was that of a human. The face was just a skin lain skull and its body was inhumanly skinny, like that of a rotting corpse. It reached a bony hand outward, towards her neck, twisting and convulsing its way out of the wall and towards her. She could feel the hairs on her neck stand on end and she knew someone was upon her. Her mind raced with a sudden jolt of intensifying fear. Something had come out of the wall. The creatures, inches from her neck, stopped.

“Why?” it asked, its mouth moving, the jaw seemed broken and unhinged. She spun around and screamed. Her panic froze her there, stark naked, and staring at a corpse before her. Her head spun and her heart raced so quickly that she could’ve swore she would die, then and there, before it ever had a chance. “Why?” it asked again, its arms still outstretched.

“Why what?” she begged, and the corpse stared upon her, eyeless. Blood began to seep from the sockets and cascade down its waxy, brown flaked skin.

“Why does sin behoove you so? Why must you embrace darkness in the House of God? Why are you a demon?” it asked, and Sophitia backed away and moved sideways.

“I-I am no demon! You are the monster! Look at you,” she cried, continuing to back away as her breath quickened.

“You, yourself once said to judge by within. Are you a hypocrite? Do you condemn for fun because you know you’re already in eternal damnation? Do you really bleed or is it all in your head?” it asked, and she came upon a wall. Her back to the wall, she pressed herself against it, the creature’s breath hot on her face.

“What the hell are you talking about? How am I the one condemned when you are the one who comes to claim my life? Who are you?” she spat, throwing her arms out.

“We-” it began, and more creatures rose. These creatures were in the shape of small children. Some of the children could’ve almost passed for an ordinary child, except for the scissors stabbed into a little girl’s face, a little boy with third degree burn all across his entire body and a missing arm, or the little girl with half of her head missing, her brain matter spilling out as she walked. “We are all that you’ve ever loved and loved to hate. We are the memories you’ve forgotten. We are the pieces of who you must become,” they said, in harmony, inching towards her.

She was cornered. As her mind madly tried to escape the bitter reality, she bit her lip until it bled. They continued to come upon her.

“Happy 38th Anniversary, Sophitia!” they laughed, the children’s broken and distorted teeth becoming sharp and menacing. “We wouldn’t want you to rot in hell alone now, would we?” they cackled, and Vincent appeared again on the bed. She called out to him as he was chained up and had a handkerchief tied tightly around his mouth. He shot up as far as he could, eyeless. She closed her own eyes in shock, feeling her own sickness rise from the depths of her heart. They left just enough space in their group so she could witness large metal spikes rise from under the bed and stab through his gentle skin. Though he was tied up his screaming of agony and death penetrate all hope within her. His cry that she knew was final, piercing her heart far more heavily then any dagger or sword. Sheer hopelessness became her home. She shot her hand out towards him, watching the blood as it dripped down from the spikes, teasing her of her foolishness. No one could withstand forever. Blood spilled from his body, soaking the sheets with misery, staining her memory with hate and pain.

“Do not fear, my child. You will meet soon enough,” a man begged, and she recognized the voice, though his body was covered in a cloak. The children began feasting upon the dead body, leaving the creature and the man to keep in her way. The corpse grabbed her strongly by the throat. “In hell,’ the cloaked man finished. She could feel the intense pressure and the thick sound of bones cracking.

Her air tightened and she felt her neck collapsed. Undying pain seared into her, a feeling she’d begun to realize. She fell upon her knees.

“I wanted to love him,” her mind spoke for her. The corpse bent down and held her up. One last time did her eyes have sight. It was the woman she’d seen in her past dreams, the haunting woman with black hair and black eyes, soulless eyes. “I want to love and to be loved,” she cried, solemn tears cascading down her face.

“You are loved and you paid a dear price as well,” she whispered into her ear. “Hush, for surely your time comes soon. Do not cry, for the true comforts of love can only be when they are at a high cost,” she gently said, pressing her cold, moldy fingers across her face as she died. “Hush,” she begged one last time, before she suffocated and was no more.

Sophitia woke in a cold sweat. Her body ached and her head throbbed. For a moment, she wasn’t sure where she was. Her realization only worsened her feelings. Her muscles felt rusty, sore, and misused. She placed her hands onto the moist grass to support herself as she rose, the are around her lonely and sorrowful. Her neck felt stiff, as she popped it. Suddenly, she remembered her dream and stopped her motion, her head to the side. Her eyes were wide and she quickly thrust her hands to her throat. Pressure on her throat shocked her. She could’ve sworn, brittle, dirty fingers had grasped her throat. She rubbed her neck before returning them to her side, as she sat upon the wet grass. She tried to get up, leaving her hands out before her, in the event that she fell. Her legs were weak from misuse. How long had she laid there for? Her mind raced, her thoughts jumbled and confusing. So much was running through her mind to the point she couldn’t concentrate on anything. Her legs felt like jelly.

As she made her way to the car, she realized how disoriented she was. She stumbled several times, nearly falling onto the pavement. She felt drunk, though she knew this was not the case. After many struggles, she had managed to reach her car. She felt her pockets for her keys with her numb fingers. She placed the key into the car door and unlocked it. She stumbled into her vehicle and sat down, using the rest of her strength to slam the door, shutting it and locking it. She put the key into the ignition, feeling as it sputtered before fully functioning. She sighed as it started up. She turned up the heat as high as it would go and lay back, feeling sick and drowsy. What was wrong with her? She felt her head as the care began to warm up. Her entire body felt numb, in fact, her heart was beginning to feel the same way. She was being slowly lulled back into a dream-like state, back to where the eternal nightmare resided.

There came a swift knocking n her window. She jerked awake, eyes wide. The man outside her window startled her. He jumped back, voice suppressed by the glass in between them.

“Sophitia, it’s okay, it’s just me! Vincent!” he demanded, and again her surprise rose. This had to be another nightmare.

“Go away. You’re just another nightmare,” she blurted, but when she looked up, into those sapphire blue eyes, she knew who it was. Yet, he was different somehow. She knew every detail, from his face, to the subtle tones of his skin. She rolled down the window.

“I believe you! I’m beginning to have the same nightmares you described to Kali,” he warned, and she took the key out of the ignition and sat there, stalled from his words, before unlocking the door and opening it. She stood there for a long while, staring into his eyes. She felt pity.

“I-I’m sorry,” she cried, suddenly wrapping her arms around him in a comforting embrace. There was only silence to greet her as she held him so close to her. What as strange phenomenon; the power of human touch. What had became foreign ad forlorn was reawakened within her, want. What more does a crying baby want them to be held? She felt like a child, screaming for her mother. Now, the comfort he brought at a time only brought awkwardness.

He stood there, in the stillness, and stared off as she was cradled beneath his wrapped arms.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to know my pain, or see as I see,” she cried, and he took her at arms length.

“This isn’t your fault. I am not satisfied with this endless pain, but now I understand fear as you do,” he sighed, desperation in his tone. She let him go and backed away.

“Whatever became of Karen?” she blurted, making this rather awkward moment even more so. He stared straight into her eyes.

“We had nothing in common besides our classes,” he responded, and she nodded, not wishing for a longer explanation. “It’s getting late, Sophitia. Let’s go home,” Vincent demanded, and she realized how wonderful those words were to hear. This couldn’t possibly be real. Why had he suddenly changed his mind? Why was Roxanne not present at church? Why was her heart starting to feel normal again? Something had to be amiss. Life just didn’t end up that simple for Sophitia. She laid down in the back seat of the car as Vincent drove her home. There was no more to be said; Vincent was home and she was rescued from the cold. What more could she ask?