March 4th, 1998
"Thomas!"
He recognizes the voice immediately and smiles. Looking up from his work, he sees her. A young woman in her late twenties, tall brunette and beautiful. She has an air about her, a presence, and Thomas finds it utterly intoxicating. Her smile hypnotizes him with its dazzling magic, and the voices laugh at him as his heart melts away.
"Hello there Delilah. How are you today?"
He keeps his voice even and friendly, not wanting to show any favoritism in his office. Should his attraction become known, he reasons, he may jeopardize his position. His reasoning overshadows his real purpose for keeping his tone even.
He fears his attraction.
"I'm very good Tom, just passing by and wanted to say hello. Say, are you doing anything tonight?"
He internally cringes when she says "Tom" and completely misses her last question.
"Come again?"
"Would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight Thomas?"
He is caught off guard. This is a dangerous proposition, and he knows it. But he just can't resist.
"I would love to Delilah." He smiles wider.
Work passes by sluggishly, and a new emotion that Thomas is unfamiliar with stirs in his gut. When he leaves the news firm his mind is spinning. He fears the voices will make him do something bad to the young woman. He can already hear their whispers.
Poor girl...
Looks so pretty...
Very tasty...
Want...
Need...
NEED...
NEED!
He starts hitting his head with the heel of his hand, attracting the attention of fellow pedestrians coming home from a long day at work. One man puts a hand on Thomas's shoulder, but he shrugs the man off violently and quickens his pace. He mumbles to himself all the way back to his apartment, arguing with the voices in his head.
Just take her...
No one will notice...
Get her drunk...
She won't remember a thing...
Take her Tommy...
Tom...
Once he gets to his apartment, he slams his head into his front door and makes a sound from deep within his throat. A sound of agony and anger and confusion. It is somewhere between a cry and a scream, and he is very lucky no one else was around to hear it. By this time his face is slick with sweat and his long brown hair is matted and tangled from all the times he has grabbed at it.
He stumbles into his living room and collapses. Tears stream down his face and his throw pillow absorbs the worst of his pained screams. He should call Delilah. He should tell her he is ill, because he really is ill.
Tom...
Don't do it Tom...
Think of all the things you could do Tom...
He sees flashes of the young woman in bed below him, writhing in pleasure. He hears her moaning his name. He feels his member become rock hard and he rubs himself through his jeans. He decides there is no turning back, but he cannot go out feeling this way, with his penis ready to burst from his jeans.
He feels sick about what he does next. He wants to vomit as he unzips his pants and lets his member spring free from his boxers. He knows just how wrong it is when he pleasures himself to the images the voices are feeding him. As he gets closer to release, the images become darker. They go from sweet love making with Delilah to Thomas holding her down and forcing himself inside of her. Her moans of pleasure become agonized screams. And when he finally does explode, he sees stars and blood and feels pain and sickness.
I am not okay.
He strips himself down and brings his sperm stained jeans to the laundry room.
I am not okay.
He runs a load of laundry and goes back to the couch to clean off the sticky white substance.
I am not okay...
He picks out something nice to wear and begins his routine for the second time today.
I. Am. Not. Okay.
He steps into the shower and lets hot water cascade down his back.
I am not okay.
He sinks to his knees and cries until the water runs cold.
YOU ARE READING
State Of Mind
Mystery / Thriller"He stands in the rain, bloody and bruised, watching as the crimson liquid intermingles with the precipitation and flows down the storm drain. The voices have finally calmed down, and his mind is clear..."
