I look down not remembering how I got here or who I am. The stinging smell of alcohol burning my nose. I blinked once, maybe three times. I glanced around to see if I had any memory of being in this strange place. I tried to move but I was stuck. My arms felt like they were made of stone. I heard a door open, and a million tiny voices filled the room. I tried to move my head to see what was going on, but to my surprise I wasn’t able to lift it more than a few inches. I felt a sharp pain in my arm, or was it my leg? As my eyes began to feel heavy again I heard the number, 20708670.
What was this number? Was it my name? I began to regain consciousness, but I was not in the same room as before, and the smell was different. It smelled of berries and soup. It was not a pleasant smell however, it was better than that of the other room. I began to feel uneasy, I don’t remember how I got here, or why I’m here. What is this place? ……. It was the summer of 1854 when I found my first true love, though many say it was puppy love I still believed that I had found the one for me. Her name was Martha. Her big brown eyes looked like pools of honey in the sunlight, and paired with her flowing brown hair she was a sight to see. She had everyone in town in love with her, but she was mine. My sweet Martha was a bundle of joy, she would never do anything to hurt someone else. She was as innocent as a newborn. But yet she still stabbed my heart and left me with an open wound.
Martha my sweet Martha, oh how I loved her. Loved, oh how a word with a pleasant meaning can have such a negative meaning. What happened to her wasn’t my fault, it could have happened to anyone. I can still hear her voice calling my name. “James”, she used to stretch out the end of it. Her voice was like milk and honey in my tea. Why did she do this to me? We began courting at the end of the summer, we used to walk through the town and go through the shops. I remember her favorite flower was a daisy. She used to make crowns out of them and giggle as she placed them on top of my head. Her laughter filled the air and swayed in the breeze. I wish she wouldn’t have hurt me.
It was in the winter when I asked her to be my wife. It was that same winter when she said yes. We got married that following summer, and two years later she gave birth to my beautiful son. He had her eyes and hair. As he grew older he began to resemble her more and more each day. You may ask why I did what I did, but there is a reason for everything, my love. How she would have hated the way I treated him after the tragedy but it was her own fault. ……. We were married for seven years. We had tried and tried for another beautiful angel but had no luck. She started to blame myself for what was happening and I began to believe. How I hated myself for not giving my child a playmate, and making my sweet Martha upset. There was nothing for me to do. One night she left me with my son. She said that we had run out of cabbage and we needed it for the meal she was going to make. She was gone for two hours when I felt something was wrong. I called the store and no one had seen her. My mind began to race, had she gotten into a car crash at this time of night. I knew our car wasn’t the best but we sold our horses for it, so there was no way to get to her. So I waited, and waited. As the clock chimed to let me know that another hour had passed I heard a fumbling at the door. I jumped up from my couch and raced to the door hoping that it was my Martha. It was. Her clothes were ruffled, and her hair was a mess. My heart sank as I saw that the car looked perfectly normal.
“My dear weren’t you leaving to go get some groceries?’’
“Yes, I was but…”, She paused
She walked past me and said nothing more, sadly I knew what had happened. I went to bed with tears in my eyes. My Martha, my sweet innocent Martha, she would never have done such a vile thing… or did she? When we awoke the next morning I sat down on the couch, and told my son to leave for school. He went reluctantly with a sigh. I motioned for Martha to come and sit by me. When she finally sat down she began to weep.
“I’m sorry James, for what I have done. God will surely never forgive me. I wanted to give our son another sibling so that he would not be lonely, but you couldn’t do that”
“ How long?” It was the only thing which I could mutter while holding back my tears.
“ Five months… I’m truly sorry James, I could no longer keep this hidden.”
“ It Is fine my love just stay here while I figure this out, alright?”
I walked into the kitchen filled with rage. She was trying to have another man’s child, and she was going to play it off as my own. I grabbed a kitchen knife and held it in my hands. I hated her with every bone in my body. Why should I let her live? She saw the knife in my hand and looked confused. She let out a blood curdling scream as I hurtled the knife into her stomach. She looked down in horror as I tore the knife through her tender flesh. Red is all I saw- red rage, red blood. The fire burned inside me and consumed my body. When I calmed down and gazed upon her body, I looked down in horror. What had I done? Her lifeless body sat there, not moving. I said her name in hopes she would awaken from her eternal slumber. But there was no reply, no slight movement, no breath. There was nothing left. I had destroyed her with my rage and a knife. How could I let this happen to my sweet innocent Martha? I couldn’t have done this. I didn’t do this. No, it was him. It was Satan himself. …….
My son returned from school to see his mother dismembered on the couch. He turned towards me, his small pure eyes filled with fear. He stood there trying to process the scene. Me, his father covered head to toe in blood, with his mother sprawled out on the couch. Tears filled his eyes. I rushed to comfort him, but he screamed and pushed me away running out the door. I hadn’t even taken the time to drop the knife. The poor thing must have thought that he was to be killed next.
I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and pulled him towards me. He was screaming and crying. I couldn’t take it anymore, I placed my hands around his tiny neck and held him there until he stopped. He stopped breathing and I couldn’t revive him. I tried more than anything just to hear him cry again.
That day on July the 3rd of 1890, I killed my entire family. I had nothing but them, now I have nothing. This day brought out the worst in me and how I wished I could go back and change the way I had dealt with the news Martha had shared with me. I left their bodies within my home for 3 days, I never touched them once. On the third day I heard a knock at the door. I had no idea who this visitor may be, but I rushed to the door. Upon opening it I found three of Martha’s close friends, they were worried about my wife and son not being seen for three days. I brushed it off and told them that they had an emergency trip to go see Martha’s sick father. But they insisted on coming inside.
They walked in my house, even though I resisted everything. They saw everything that I had done. My wife and son, on the floor decaying. They ran out before I could stop them.
It was ten minutes later when there was yet another knock. It was the police. They came inside and asked me what had happened, I said it very calmly and they detained me. I was placed in the back of a car, I thought this was the end. They took me to a place far away and we drove for what felt like hours. When we got to our destination they shoved me out of the car and what looked like doctors came outside and injected me with some sort of liquid. When I awoke I was in a new place. ……. I had never been here before I was strapped down in a chair in the middle of a room. The place smelled like alcohol, and I hated it. I couldn’t remember how I got here. Nothing made sense anymore. One moment I was with my Martha and son, the next I was here. I have no memory of how I got here or what I’ve done. All I know is what I have been told. The doctors told me that I have something wrong with me. They force me to take pills for it. They say I see demons. They told me I have a condition called schizophrenia. They say I’ve been here for five years. They told me that Martha, the love of my life, and my son, were both unreal. That they were made up inside my head. They told me that my entire life was nothing, that my love, my son, it was all nothing.
I had spent most of my life locked away here, that there was no Martha, there was no murder. My life was the same everyday. Eat, take pills, Eat, sleep. It was the same routine for five years. Nothing was right anymore. Where had my life gone? They told me that my mother had left me here when I was a child.
Here I was always alone, my thoughts were the only thing that remained.