Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1695461
by nadeem
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1695461
Harmful treatment in a mental institution bringing up painful memories
When I fell out of consciousness I couldn’t tell where I would wake. I didn’t even know why I was falling; all I knew was that these men meant to do me some sort of harm. What kind of harm I didn’t know, but their sterility felt threatening. They were cold, too cold to have compassion for any living being. All I could feel were the straps that held me to the table when I woke up. Everything else was numb.
“Matthew, how are you feeling?” a soft voice was speaking into my ear. But all I could manage was a mumble of in-coherent thoughts. I heard him sigh and he moved away. “He’s not better.” The soft voice had grown louder and slightly irritated. “He’s not going to get better this way, you can’t do this anymore!”
“There’s no other choice Christopher, I’m sorry, we have to keep going.”
“No. No, there must be some other way to do this!”
“One more okay? And if we see no results after one more time we’ll stop, okay?”
I didn’t hear any response, but I guessed that the man named Christopher, however reluctant, must have given his consent to carry on with whatever it was they were doing to me.
I felt a surge of pain flood my body. I felt it erupting out of my eyes, my ears. My teeth chattered and blood swelled in my head until I could longer hold onto my consciousness. I fell deep. Much deeper than last time.

“Matt! Where have you been?!” she spoke in a kind way, a mocking tone she used lightly to tease me. “I’ve been waiting here for hours!”
I said nothing; I just looked around my new surroundings. They were familiar, in fact, I recognised them well. The park. This was the park where we had spent many hours of our time together.
“I’ve...been busy...” I stammered.
“Matt, what’s wrong?”
My glazed expression was obviously frightening her, but I couldn’t help my eyes moistening at the sight of her. It had been too long. Much too long.
“Nothing,” I choked it down. “It’s nothing, let’s go.”
She looked concerned but she followed me anyway. We strolled through the arch that the trees formed over the path, glancing every now and then into each other’s eyes and giggling excitedly. We gazed into the water hoping to see our future in the ripples; we found the perfect spot on the grass to sit, just so we could enjoy each other’s company in our own perfect place. It wasn’t an old memory, it was a new one. I was making one more memory before I lost the chance. And I did. I made a perfect day with the perfect girl one more time before she was snatched from me again.
I wished this would be my last day on earth, so that it would be the last thing I’d remember. But I got the warning to early. I was leaving. And it wasn’t even sunset.

And so without warning I was ripped away from her, and out of our perfect world, torn out of paradise and thrown back into my lonely one-person bed in this colourless building.
The doctor wanted to see me. I think it was an examination, but I honestly can’t remember rightly.
“You seem fine Matthew, how are you feeling?” He said. I didn’t reply. “Today isn’t your day then…OK” he retreated back into the white hallway.
“Those drugs fucking suck.” I said to myself. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be lucid nowadays. Most days I enjoyed it, after all, why would I want to be fully conscious in a place like this? But sometimes on a rare occasion I wished I could just be sober so I could think. Just to think about memories would be a gift. But on the drugs no memories would come. They were holding the memories back, and I wanted them back. Desperately.
© Copyright 2010 nadeem (ahlan55 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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