A Mental Illness

Escape?

The flames were a thing a of beauty, the type that wouldn't be appreciated by normal concepts of what's beautiful. The way they almost hugged the corps of the rat. Wrapping him in their warm embrace, why the display of affection was heart warming.

"Thomas! What have you done?!" I looked up at my mother and beamed.

"I did what he told me to do."

"Who is he?"

"Mr. Ra-"

Her frantic expression morphed into one that I didn't recognize...Could it have been disappointment? No, no I've seen that look before. What ever this was, it was full of anguish and exasperation. " God Thomas! You set fire to our garbage, and your explanation for that is that a rat told you too?! I've dealt with this for to long.. To long, and while I hate to admit it... Well..Maybe you are mad! Now extinguish that damn fire."

"No"

She turned gave me a confused stare. "What was that?" I've never disobeyed her before, my resistance was unexpected.

"Mother I said no, it's a thing of beauty."

I felt a sharp sting on my cheek. It was sudden and left a red blotch shaped like a hand. As if I had just been hit... No, no that's impossible she couldn't have, she wouldn't. I turned to face her, she looked just as surprised as I. Her cheeks flushed, she looked down at her hand in disgust. Mother as a child was abused herself, she vowed to never lay a hand on her child. Besides her own loving embrace.

"Thomas I -" Before she could finish her sentence she broke down into tears. Sobbing loudly, she looked quite foolish. Oh how I hated that sound, the agonizing wails and the sudden need of comfort. I turned my attention to the flames , they had completely engulfed the rat's corps. I then looked back at my mother, still sobbing.

"Mother?"

She looked up, wiping a few tears away"Yes? "

" Am I mad?"

She lifted the corners of her mouth into a weak smile. Raising her tear stained cheeks. "No.... No love you are just-We will get you the help you need."

Help? I did not need help. For what, there was nothing wrong with me. I was not ill or in need of therapy. She was the one sounding a bit mad.

"Help? For what? I am not ill."

" Thomas you are...Special, and special people get special attention."

Special, she used it in a way you would to describe something unexplainable to a small child. One much younger than I was. " Thomas you are special." Her words lingered in my ears, how had she completely changed the meaning... Was she once again calling me mad or mentally ill?

"Special?!" I spat, the pure anger in voice surprised me.

"You really do think I'm mad! For years you have been telling me that I'm special.. Is that just another verb used to describe me? Your son who hears voices? Who believes in silly things like ghosts?" Tears trickled down my cheeks. Was I crying? Unlike most boys that were my age I never cried. Even when I burned my hand on our gas stove. I kept a straight face and simply told mother. Yes I felt the pain, but did not see the need to show it. However this was different. It resided somewhere deep within me. Causing tremendous pain, was this sadness?

I was never in "tune with my emotions", simply because I never felt them. There was occasional happiness or disappointment, but nothing like this. Mother knelt down so that our eyes would meet.

"Thomas I-" I turned away, hearing something. It was soft almost inaudible, it would be dismissed as silence to people like you. I turned to face Mother once again. Her lips parted as if she were about to say something. Before the words could escape her throat, my arms wrapped my arms around her torso. She jumped, then wrapped her arms around me completing the hug.

My ear was against her warm chest, the sound returned. I focused on the sound tuning out the sound of Mother breathing. It seemed to be coming from her... No not her, it was something inside of her. Was this another spirit asking for help? I listened closely, it was a thudding sound. Like one you would here if you were trying to knock down a door. It was different from a heart beat. This was uneven, was something trying to escape? I released Mother, she did the same. Together we put out the flames, her face radiated happiness and relief. However I knew there was something inside, something that needed to be freed.