I visited the doctor today. For the voices grow louder and the figure grows more vague. The usual questions are asked, and I grow more agitated. I am not a crazy man, I am as healthy as can be, I do what the next man does, pray for good fortune and curse the sinners below. He dismisses me, demanding I go home. He claims that there's no hope and that I'm too far gone. For demons have infected my brain like venom, that I am too far gone for curing. That the hoax of this forsaken illness is nothing but an incurable disease picking at people’s mind and soul. Body contouring as their bones weaken, and cells rot and die. I proceed back to our rotting house, distorted in dark colors as the smell of death haunts the land. For I am sick of this forsaken life, and I beg of thee to take me away.
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An entry A Day, Just to See You Once More
Spiritual[[An old highschool English assignment]] A young family of 35, living in an era of the 1600's face a dreadful fate after their daughter of 8 years old, died. Iphigenia, having been ill of a mysterious disease with no cure, passed off as the flu, pas...
