Midnight

a picture of a memory i never should have had

The visions came back to me again, those images that I
see in my minds eye. They have no cause. They're so
awful, and they won't go away. I was drawing a few days
ago... I know I shouldn't have... and I saw a young man in
a dark, long-sleeved shirt and baggy jeans. His thin arms
were out beside him, but lowered a bit. At the ends of
those bony arms were only ragged flesh. The hands had been
torn off, and only mangled shreds were left behind. There
was blood everywhere. On his lean, almost emanciated face
was the most exquisite look of sadness and wonder, mixed
also with supreme, nearly angelic innocence. It was
utterly heartbreaking. Soon, I could see that the lower
legs of his jeans also dangled empty, and their hems were
ragged and bloody. I was sick this time for several
minutes, despite my attempts at control. I asked to be
excused. By the next morning, the image had faded and was
quite nearly gone. During third period, it came back with
all the force of a speeding train. I had been dazed
again. Reaching me was, as I was told, difficult. Once
more came the sensation of being completely surrounded by
water, or else some sort of distorting force field. I
started to cry when my friends noticed my mood and began
questioning me. These poor ones are new friends, not yet
used to my moods and states. They rubbed my back and
hugged me and I saw him again. I wept bitterly in the
middle of class. I just wanted the picture to go away. I
wanted all of them to go away, but they come. The Illness
(whatever it may be) has faded for the time, though when it
shall return is anyone's guess. The fevered blur of my
mind has restored itself to the normal mild chaos, and I am
coherent once more. I'm getting weary again, and paranoid
mother shall enter this chamber, therefore I depart.