From a Deranged and Twisted Mind

Long Gone: Part 1

It started with an itch. A tiny niggling in between her shoulder blades. Barely noticeable, but noticeable enough. Squirming in her chair, she tried to scratch it. First, she slyly reached her hand back, straining to soothe the burning spot. Nothing. It was in that odd part of the back that cannot be reached without some form of assistance. So she picked her pencil from off her desk, and did her best to assuage the pain with the eraser. Better, but still not enough. The eraser was too narrow to offer full relief. After thinking hard, she slouched low behind her desk, rubbing her back against the top edge of the chair.

"Pay attention, please," ordered her teacher.

She turned red, embarrassed at having been called out. However, the tingling in her back made her too uncomfortable to pout. Back to the pencil. Finally, it was too much. She raised her hand.

"May I use the bathroom, please?" she asked.

The teacher sighed and crossed his arms. He'd never had any trouble with her before, but today she just couldn't seem to stay focused. He relented.

"Fine, but hurry back."

"Thank you," she responded, polite as ever. She got up from her seat and walked to the door, cringing with every step. The itch had only escalated. None of her efforts had done much good. She entered the girls' bathroom and stood at the sink, staring into the mirror. Then she turned on the faucet. Taking a bunch of paper towels from the roll next to her, she wet them. Then, she pulled up her shirt, and slapped the wet paper towels on the burning spot. A wave of relief crashed over her. She sighed and sank to the ground. There she stayed, until another girl was sent to fetch her. Reluctantly, the first girl threw out the wet paper towels and headed back to class.

For the rest of the day, the itch did not subside. The girl escaped to the solitude of the bathroom every chance she could get. When the final bell rang, she eagerly scampered down the front steps of the school, hurrying back to her house. As soon as she got home, she kissed her mother and headed to the bathroom. Wetting a washcloth, she entered her room and lay face down on her bed. With a sigh of relief, the washcloth went onto her back.

Later, her mother discovered her. After deducing the problem, her mother rubbed some cooling lotion onto her skin. It offered only temporary relief, and the girl lay awake far into the night.

The itch felt as if it had penetrated her skin. Her spine tingled. It was no longer just an itch; it physically hurt. The girl glanced at the clock. 3:00 am. At this rate, she'd never fall asleep. Her mother promised to take her to the doctor if the itch didn't subside in the morning. The girl rolled over onto her belly. Suddenly, a flash of blinding pain shot through her body. It was as if her flesh had ripped open to the bone. She writhed in agony, moaning softly. Another wash of pain brought tears to her eyes. She wriggled around in the bed as if she was being electrocuted. And then it stopped. The itching, the pain, everything. The peace was so sudden, so complete, that with a yawn the girl fell asleep immediately.

* * *

Morning light danced through her curtains and over the window sill, alighting on her face. She slowly opened her eyes and smiled. Today was going to be a good day. She could feel it in her bones. Better yet, yesterday's itch was but a bad memory.

Eagerly she jumped out of bed. Then she stopped. She was certain she saw something move out of the corner of her eye. Slowly, she turned around. Nothing. She turned back more quickly. There it was again. Round and round she circled. There was something there. Always just out of reach. Something was moving that shouldn't be moving.