Taste the blood on the sink
From Create Your Own Story
Tasting the blood the voice in your head returns. All it has to say this time is a simple. “Yours.”
No vision, but serious questions about your past emerges in your mind. Ever since awakening in that room you mind has been set on the moment. Surviving was the priority, not reflection. Now you start to remember more and more as your health improves. You start reflecting on the beginning, your childhood. You remember growing up in Seattle, you remember your friends and how you used to play hockey with them. You remember that your third grade teachers name was Angelica. You remember your apartment on the tenth floor and how your dog Ash would run up to you every time you got home from school. You remember your father in his suit, sitting at his desk deep in thought. Your mother… you can see your mother before you but there’s a blur. A blur were her face is supposed to be. You try desperately to disperse the blur covering her face but no matter how you focus it won’t go away. The struggle is meaningless, you know that for a fact but it still hurts, it hurts now knowing your mothers face. Everything else about your childhood is crystal clear so why must her face be kept hidden from you?
You grunt loudly to yourself trying to express your pain somehow hopping that it will ease it. No such luck and it get worse when you realize there’s nothing more to remember. Your teenage years consist of quick flashbacks and still images. These memories contain only small emotions of important events in your life. Your first girlfriend, the death of your dog Ash, all very defining large memories except one. There is one still image in your head of you standing on a balcony next to your old friend discussing something important. The emotions left from this memory tell you that you sarcastically dismissed the event that had just taken place while your friend was dead serious. Nothing more of this memory you recall and with from that point on the rest is blank. Your entire adulthood is lost in the same white blur that covered your mothers face. You’re a bit depressed to have lost such a vital part of yourself. Its and horrid feeling that makes you feel empty inside.
Your thoughts are interupted by a loud knock on the front door.
The loud knocking sound emits from the door in a structured, even tone. Normally the mere knocking on a door would not frighten you so but now it brings back the memories of the horrid beast in the house you woke up in the other day. You can vividly remember his nightmarish form, the beast whose kin is not from this earth. When you have seen something so unearthly like the monster your mind can interpret the most ordinary of acts as a potential threat. Your body stiffens up in fear, but it also gets ready to fight for its life. Maybe what your body is telling you is correct, maybe the knocker is another demon here to take your soul?
Whoever is beyond that door knocks again in the same structured tone; you are forced to make a decision.
