A month has now passed since my unexplainable episode. I feel like I should tell someone what happened but I don’t want to be labeled as crazy. Should I speak to a doctor? Should I tell a friend? Should I tell my wife? These are the questions that run through my head. I continually talk myself out of telling someone. My days go by a little more normally now and I begin to feel as if my “attack” was a one time thing. I do fear looking in the mirror every time I enter the bathroom but I face my fears and stare into the mirror only finding myself staring back. Who or what was the image in the mirror on that beautiful afternoon? I can’t say for sure. What the figure said to me was disturbing though. It menacingly stated “You are worthless! You don’t deserve to live. I won’t kill you but you should think about ending your worthless life. Nobody loves you!” These words continued until I once again lost my senses only to regain consciousness later. I obviously did not make it to work that day and I had to come up with a good excuse that would satisfy my boss and my wife. My wife is not a tough person to deal with but she is overly concerned. I had to tell her that I came down with a stomach bug and spent the day in the bathroom. The duration of a stomach virus is usually only 24 hours, so this lie worked out perfectly. I was weak and afraid to leave my apartment following my attack. The spring afternoons were no longer as pleasing to my senses. I drove to work with my windows closed and the music at a low volume. I felt that I could control my environment. Today I feel better. I have had a long day at work. I walk to my car and hop in. I roll my windows down and turn the music up. I even enjoy singing along to the songs. I enjoyably drive home without any fear. I make my walk up to the apartment and I smell dinner. I open the door and kiss my wife. She has prepared a nice meal. I offer a complimenting comment to my wife, “Mmmm, Chicken and veggies. You are the best!” She loves when I appreciate her cooking, as do most women. We eat dinner and I take care of clearing the dishes. “It’s only eight O’ clock, should we watch a movie?” I ask. “Sure, we haven’t seen Super Bad yet.” She says. “That sounds great to me.” We watch and laugh throughout the entire picture. “Time for bed McLovin’!” she says. “Okay, Ha-Ha.” I couldn’t help but laugh. We enjoy teasing each other. It keeps our marriage fun. We prepare for bed and brush our teeth. In the bathroom I look in the mirror and to my surprise, what do I see? That oh so familiar image! “Shit Shit Shit!!!!” I cry. My wife is luckily in the kitchen at the moment. I nervously finish brushing and leave the bathroom as quickly as possible. I get in bed and wait for my wife. “I love you” she says. “I love you too.” I reply. She drifts off to sleep quickly, but not before her ‘good-nite kiss’ and I lie in bed thinking to myself. I hear a sound like static from a radio or television. “I know I turned off the TV.” I utter to myself. I don’t bother to get out of bed. I soon fall asleep. I am awoken by the sound of a siren. I still remain in bed with my eyes closed. Then I hear another siren and then another. Police and rescue vehicles suddenly pull up, outside my apartment. WTF!? I open my eyes and I am now witnessing a nightmare. “No! What happened? Shit! She can’t be gone. No no! This is a dream. Wake up! Wake up! No!” I ecstatically shout. The blood tells a story. A story that does not end well for me and one that ends even worse for her. How could this have happened? So much blood and my hands are red.
…To be continued