December 11, 2006

Science

Psychological Disorders

Dementia, Nightmare Disorders, Sleep Terror

Part One

Her dreams are so vividly painted. All is lucent on top of a white scenery; a white bed, in a white room. There seemed to be no doors or windows. Then, there was a splash of brilliant color contrasting against the white. The color? A deep rose-colored red. No, this color did not come from paint or a type of drink; it came from the typical human body.

She awoke covered in cold sweat. She breathlessly shakes uncontrollably. She hugs herself tightly to keep from screaming. She begins to sob quietly. A once murky figment of a dream now becomes a vivid illustration in her sleep. What she’s witnessed should never be seen by anyone.

She dreams of slicing and slashing violently clear from her wrist. However, she does this passionately, almost artistically, but what terrifies her most is that she sees herself enjoying it. Her face had a stunning expression of apparent bliss. Shreds of flesh slide down her pale arm and onto her white gown. From there, it continues to slide right into her bloody conclusion. Not only that, but she wouldn’t stop, she couldn’t stop from doing this because she enjoyed this procedure. It does not pain her; it brings her pleasure, for in return she will be awarded for all her hard work. The prize? She’s always rose before anything’s been removed. Whatever her prize was, it, apparently, was truly worth her effort in chopping a hand off. This isn’t the first time she’s had this dream. It’s been a couple weeks now and she doesn’t want anything to do with this dream any longer. Now, she wonders if she were dead, would she still have any more dreams. She’s made it her mission to find out, and she’ll relive her dream once more, just to never see it again. Today’s the day.

Part Two

Whistling, she walked to school happily. She has straight A’s and she’s so popular, everyone seemed to smile at her every time she walked by. But people sometimes give her weird looks when she’s hanging out with her best friend. She’s heard some of the gossip that revolves around her, like

“ Oh, why is she hanging out with a freak like that,” and, “What does she see in her?” and some other the garr-bahg like that. She rolls her eyes. Like, whatever, those chicks don’t have enough sense to do anything anyways. All they do is judge people. What’s wrong with my friend? Uggh. People these days. Don’t know what to do with them, maybe I can act nice and pretend they don’t exist. Haha. Whatever.

She arrives at school just in time to see her friend sitting at her usual spot: a shady, isolated area, which means, it’s under a tree, at a corner. She doesn’t bother to question her friend why she chose that specific spot but who cares. Does it matter? Not to her.

“Hiya!” she exclaimed.

“Hello.” Her friend answered blankly.

Geez, does she have one of her mood swings again? Let’s hope she does go screaming like she did last time.

“What subject you have next?” She popped her bubblegum.

“Science, and then English, and lastly P.E,” her friend sighs. “School seems oh, so boring now.”

“ Really? Isn’t it always? We do the same thing everyday right?”

“Yep, I guess so.” She replied dryly.

“ Let’s do something after school today? Let’s go to your house! I’ve never been there!”

Part 3

Oh no! If she came over to my house, she’d want go into my room. No, I can’t do this.

“ Nah, there isn’t anything interesting at my house. If you want, we could go somewhere else.”

“Oh, come on! Please, please, PLEASE!!! I’ve never went there. And you know that!”

Her friend begged.

Of course she’s never been there. No one’s mentioned that until now. Unfortunately. Does she want me to suffer? She peered at her friend as if trying to see through her.

“Don’t think so. My dad’s mistress is going to be there. I’ll be forced to stay outta their way.”

“You are so mean!”

Gee thanks. Let’s keep our friendship on the surface. But of course, she would never say that up front , into her face. Just keep it all inside, all inside, nothing will spill out. No blood will spill out, no flesh will fall out. Nothing, nothing, NOTHING ! The bell snapped her out of her dark thoughts.

“ I’ll talk to you later.” She trudged away.

She arrives to her science class, and as usual she sits all the way in the back. She sighs. Another day. Let’s hope nothing happens this time in science class. She looks up and catches the teacher glancing at her. Yeah, she didn’t miss that irritated look the teacher flashed her. Uh oh, he’s coming this way.

“Are you feeling okay today? Because, you ran out on me interrupting my class the other day.” He stated bluntly.

“Well, I’m sorry, I just got sick all of a sudden.” She replied lazily.

“Well, that’s why I’m asking you now. I don’t want you getting sick again and having a fit.”

She stared at him blankly.

“Well, if you believe that you’re well today.” He walks to the front of the class.

Insensitive jerk. He just wants to get his day over and get home. She sighs. Totally unlike her. She doesn’t want night to come. Lately, she’s been taken these pills, which keep her awake so that she won’t have to suffer, but she ran out of it and there’s no more at all. Life sucks all of your happiness, doesn’t it? Well, only one more option left. Tonight, she’ll relive her dream, once more. Then maybe, she’ll have some peace at last. She smiles happily. She glances at the teacher. He gives her an annoyed look. She glares at him. He goes back to his work.

What kind of friend is she!? Giving me the dumbest excuses just to keep me out of her house. Just for that, I’m going to visit her at night with a freaky clown mask! She giggles at her beautiful plan.

School finally ended for the day. She walks to the place where only what she dreads takes place. Maybe, I should get it over with as soon as I get home. Why wait for the dark to come and get me?

Little does she know, that someone is following her home..

She enters her home and heads to the kitchen, grabs a knife and heads to the place where all her dreams take place. After all these years & months, days & minutes, finally, her horrendous dreams will come to a halt. She sits on her bed, one hand holding the knife.

What is she doing with that knife? She peeks through the windows but trees and bushes are blocking her way. Wait, is that a knife? She sees a gleam reflected by sunlight.

She sobs as she gingerly gently slides the blade over her left wrist. To her surprise, she feels no pain, but instead pleasure. Just like in her dreams. She looks down at her wrist. So much blood. Blood is seeping out of her wrist, dripping to her mattress. She swallows, but continues cutting. She imagines her dreams, doing exactly what they guide her to do, and little incision on the left, a little on the right, a little deeper, a little wider, a little poke, a little prick. She tells herself, keep cutting; keep cutting, because it feels so good. Because when you’re finished, you’ll never have to do it again.

She pounds on the door. It won’t budge. God! I need to get in there! What the heck is she doing! Maybe I could get in though the backyard.

She’s hit the bone and she feels no pain. Keep going, keep going, she begins sawing off her left hand.

Yes! The back door’s open. She enters the door leading to the kitchen. She searches around for her friend’s room. She hears a little noise from one of the doors.

Almost done, keep going. The bone’s cut halfway through now. So much blood seeping through her clothes, her pillows, her blankets, her bed. Strips of flesh lay around her, goes unnoticed as she concentrates Almost done, she thinks happily.

She arrives at her friend’s room, before knocking on the door, she hears something drop, and another. She cautiously opens the door. There on the floor, surrounded by blood, was her friend’s left hand, cut off, separated, right next to, the knife.