A Small Voice

Chapter Twenty-Four

"Where their worm diethnot, and the fire is not quenched."Mark 9:48

I was lying in bed that evening, feeling giddy about the epic moment I had with Rachel, but also feeling really guilty for fucking Tammy. It was a weird sensation, joy and guilt, each tugging for my attention. My whole chest began feeling itchy. I started scratching it and felt my skin moving, things squishing on my fingers, under my nails as I scratched. I freaked out, pulling off my covers and almost knocking my bedside lamp over as I desperately tried to turn on my light. When I succeeded, I screamed. Small, cream-colored worms covered my body. I jumped up, brushing them off frantically, but the more I brushed the more they came, coming right out of my skin, and I started to panic. I thought about the visions I would have when I was young, like my body decomposing. I was a backslider; it was to Hell for me, where the worms would not die.

"Forgive me!" I yelled, opening my eyes. My heart was pounding so fast and hard it felt like it might jump out of my chest. I touched my chest again, under the blankets. I was soaked, but also filled with relief, realizing it was all just a dream. I tried to breathe slower, pacing my breaths, counting to three and starting again. Father, Son, Holy Ghost.

I heard a quick tap on the window. It scared the shit out of me. It was pitch black out, and I was so freaked out from the nightmare I was sure it was a demon tapping, red and disfigured, coming for my soul. Another rapid tapping followed the first. I took a deep breath, coming to my senses, waking up fully. I opened the window a crack.

"Who's there?"

I heard Tammy giggle. "It's me, weirdo, who do you think it would be?" Her voice was so soothing. Relieved, I opened it up and she crawled in.

"Do you have multiple girls coming through your window or something?" she joked.

I tried to laugh, but my body was trembling. I was in a full-blown fight or flight panic attack.

"What's wrong, Dan?" she asked, looking concerned. "Every time I come by you seem to be in a state of complete meltdown."

I looked on my floor and found my belt. I showed it to her, the leather device offered to her like a gift, held by my trembling hand.

"Can you hit me? Remember, you said you would hit me with this."

She looked confused, her green eyes adjusting to the indoor lighting. "No, I'm not going to hit you with it." She walked over and gave me a tight hug. "What's wrong?"

I felt like such a pussy. I didn't want to open up to her for the second time, but I was so rattled, I felt it was my only option. "Sorry Tammy, I just had the most awful dream. My body was covered in disgusting maggots. The more I would brush them off, the more they would come out of me. Even the ones I would brush off would climb back up my legs again."

"It's okay," she reassured. "You're just under a lot of stress. It's just anxiety. Just a stupid nightmare."

"I don't think so. I had these visions when I was young. When I would backslide. I know it's God's way of telling me that my soul is in danger."

"Daniel," she laughed. Not mockingly, but in a knowing way. "Your soul is fine. It's the best soul I have ever met. Is that why you hit yourself? You don't feel like you can measure up to religious expectations, or the expectations you put on yourself?"

"I don't know, it just feels better. It gives me peace. The pain gives me peace." I looked to the ground and bit my bottom lip, trying desperately not to get emotional. "I was just doing so good since the last time we were together. I felt like, I don't know, more normal again. I was so optimistic. Now look at me."