Possessed

Chapter 8: The Memory

I slung the white fluffy towel over my arms and headed towards the bathroom. I needed a long shower to clear my head. I had ended up in my bedroom after getting out of the basement, extremely confused and afraid as to what had happened.

I undressed and got into my tub, pulling the shower curtains together. I turned on the hot water tap and let the warm water run over me, soaking up my skin. It felt stimulating and calmed my mind. I shampooed and conditioned my hair, rinsing it well each time. The water droplets rolled down my body as I twisted the tap to turn it off and started to climb out of the tub.

All of a sudden, I felt a little light-headed and dizzy. Without warning, a blinding spark of pain beyond anything that I’d ever experienced coursed through my head. Unable to bear the excruciating ache, I sank to my knees in the tub, clutching my head tightly to keep it from exploding. I wanted to scream ‘stop!’ but the agonizing headache kept me from doing so.

Flashes of images swam before my eyes in a rush and I was momentarily pulled into a whole different world.

It was a starry night. The moon hovered behind the clouds, partly concealed. Its glow lit up the front yard of the large house and the chaos inside the house was perfectly audible in the quietness of its surroundings. Inside the house, a man stood in his bedroom, a shooting gun in his hand. His fingers were poised on the trigger, ready to pull it if necessary, the gun pointed at two cowering figures by the wall. The figures whimpered, begging for mercy, but to no avail.

The man laughed ridiculously loud and said, “If you think I’m going to leave you two alone so that you can live your live, you’re poorly mistake...” The bitterness in his tone was as evident as fireworks in the night sky. The taller stature, which turned out to be a boy with dark messy hair and about 17 years of age, stood up to face his tyrant of a father courageously. The man mocked his own child before preparing to pull the trigger. The boy was of no use. None of them ever was. Filthy child! He thought.

The boy lunged at his dad and the mother, who was on her knees, started bawling at them to stop. Father and son rolled in circles and struggled. The boy tried to push the gun away to keep it from harming anyone, but it was too late. An accident pull of the trigger was all it took to make the body beneath him go limp. He watched, his face a mask of horror, as the life drained out of his father’s eyes and his body went completely still. Not a pulse. The shrill scream of his mother shattered the serenity of the neighborhood as it pierced into the silent night.

I opened my eyes to see a white light glaring at me. I shielded my eyes from its bright glare and looked around my room. Someone must have found me unconscious in the bathroom and brought me inside. I felt a soft warm blanket wrapped around me. Sitting up in bed, I got out and tried to stand up. Immediately, I saw my surroundings spinning and before I knew it, I was on the floor.

“Whoa there, easy,” a familiar voice said, and I looked up to see my dad with a tray of steaming soup in his hand, “You’re still dizzy and weak. Thought I’d bring this soup up to you. How are you feeling?” He set down the tray on my bedside table.

“Alright,” I managed to croak as I sat back down on the edge of the bed. My throat was so painfully dry that it hurt while speaking. I reached for the glass of water on the tray and gulped it down. Water had never tasted better than it did right then.

“So, what happened back in the bathroom?” my dad asked me, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

“Um…I don’t know,” I answered reluctantly once I’d quenched my thirst desirably. I wasn’t really sure whether I could tell them the truth. What if they thought I was going mad and took me to a therapist? I knew I didn’t need a therapist, and the idea that they might think that I needed one only annoyed me.

“Are you sure it’s nothing that we should be worried about?” he insisted.

I shook my head, perhaps a little too quickly, for he squinted his eyes at me worriedly.

 “Dad,” I said, exasperation seeping into my voice, “I’m okay. Everything’s fine.”

He nodded at me briefly and then headed downstairs, leaving me to consume my meal in peace.