A Mental Illness

Mad Or Special

My mother used to say "Boy what goes on in that head of yours.... I don't know."

She was absolutely right, she didn't know the ins and outs of my imagination. No one knew or could understand the elaborate fantasies that clouded my already foggy mind. When I was a child I saw the world from a different pair of eyes. You see I wasn't mad, oh heavens no. Though some of my.... Tendencies could be seen as bizarre.

"Good God Thomas what is that?!" My mother stood in horror as she looked down at the festering rat. It had to had been at least five days old, it's matted fur shed in patches revealing the soiled flesh underneath.

"I heard crying when I was out playing on the swings, the sound was absolutely dreadful so I sought after the source in hopes of silencing the noise."

"So..... Thomas, love you brought home a dead rat? "

"He spoke to me Mother, h-he really did. He was asking for help. So I told him that you would help him and I brought him home."

" The rat.... It's dead dear, it can't talk. So why don't we just put uh... Mr. Rat in a box and give him a proper burial."

She didn't understand, the rat it's self didn't speak to me. It was his soul that spoke. You see that is the difference between your world and mine. Silence screams but no one hears, but I hear it loud and oh so clear. The rat doesn't need to open its mouth to make a sound. Nor does it's coal black need to shed a single tear to show sadness.

I heard him when no one did. So that makes me special, not this mad you speak of. If anything I was a hero, I saved him, if I hadn't heard him cry why I don't know what would have become of him. Sadly my Mother did not see it that way.

"No he needs help! I promised him we would help." She looked at me with a combination of pity and surrender.

"Okay love.... What do we have to do?"

"Burn him."

My answer must have been a surprise because her face turned into stone. "B-Burn him?"

"He was crying because his mortal body has been broken and his spirit can't escape." I paused just for a moment as the rat spoke once again.

"He says that if you burn this body, his spirit will be freed and he will forever be in your debt."

I am a man of my word. As a boy I strongly believed in keeping promises. Surely my mother would have understood that. But alas as I said before, she didn't understand. She was scared, I could see it in the way she looked at me. Full of concern and confusion, her eyes pleading. Wanting so badly for me to grow out of this phase. However this was not simply a phase.

With concerned and tired eyes my mother asked me to throw the rat in the garbage behind the house. Reluctantly I obeyed, taking the rat the garbage. Just before placing the lid on top of the bin, I whispered an apology.

"I'm sorry...." Angry at myself,I slammed the lid shut. As I began to walk away I heard a soft whimper. But no it was not the rat, it was the whimper of a trapped soul.

Seeing red I careered, moving fast and uncontrollably towards my room. Why didn't she understand? She's my mother so she should understand, right? In fact she should have been proud, my senses were much more keen than that of any other boy at that age.

"Thomas! Come and eat your supper!" The last thing I wanted to do was to eat with her, and see her piercing blue eyes look down one me with pity and disappointment . There was no doubt that she too thought I was mad. Her little boy insane, his mind lost in his own dark thoughts.