Castigation

by Jeff McDargh

Castigation

  By Jeff McDargh

  Copyright 2014 Jeff McDargh

  The rain was falling harder now; it seemed to be competing with radio for supremacy that I already had turned up way too loud in a vain attempt to drown out the sound. I also knew I was driving way to fast as the old SUV started to skid as I rounded the curve in the rode. The vehicle started to hydro plain taking what little control I had away as it careened somewhat sideways towards a tree, taking me with it.

  “Fuck…” was the last word I spoke aloud as I tried to reach for the seatbelt. I knew I’d never reach it in time and that no one would ever hear my last word. That’s probably the only bright spot in the story of my demise.

  The crack of the glass against my skull came quickly but oddly enough just as in the movies as I traveled through the window the world slowed down to the point I could see every shard of glass and count each drop of rain as it fell.

  The hitting of the ground on the other hand I must have missed because once I passed the hood of the car all's black for a little bit.

  Moving, I’m moving and the world go’s by in a nauseating blue blur of colors.

  I’m moving but something feels wrong. I feel wrong like I’m tethered to the ground and the only thing moving is the world around me. Stop, I need to stop. No sooner had I thought it then it happened. The world around swayed, coming slowly back into focus.

  “Down town, I’m down town.”

  I’m standing down town on brown street surrounded by the old, rain blurred, thrift shops that sell mainly to tourists but I’m not really.

  Sorry, let me explain that a little better.

  Yes I’m down town and I feel like like I'm standing but when i look down I don't see my legs or body just the ground. I raise my hands up in front of my face, nothing. Nothing as the rain passed through me.

  Something was pulling me. It felt like sound waves passing through me, making my body tremble as they passed. Or I guess what I should say is my soul, my body was no more.

  It was drawing me forward, pulling harder, like the invisible night tides drawing me farther out to sea but was it trying to save me from being smashed upon the unseen rocks or farther out to sea, to the darkness to the nothingness.

  I still felt that odd tethering to the ground but the vibrating in my body was unbearable now filling me to compulsion. I had to know .I had to be where ever it was it wanted me to be. So I let go. For the first time in my life or death I let go. I let it take me giving it control. I’m not sure if it was tears or rain that streaked my face and I didn’t care.

  The shops, the houses, the streets, the town passed by in an ever deepening blue blur of color.

  I couldn’t tell you how long I had been moving or when I had stopped or exactly how long I had been standing in front of the wrought iron gate.

  The blue hue of my new world had deepened even more to that of an almost forest green broken with black veins of lightning that did little to brighten the sky. The old asylum stood silhouetted in this frame of broken reality. Jagged shadows hung under its eves and windows trailing down the sides of the walls to intertwine with the overgrown landscape.

  The uncontrollable thrumming inside me had almost subsided but the pull was still there compelling me forward. As I pass through the giant rusty gates I noticed the gate was locked with a heavy chain and lock that was almost as rusty as the gate it secured. Passing through the gate was like stepping in to the eye of a hurricane. The moment my foot touched the ground on the other side the pull, the inner trembling and even the tether where gone. I was whole again mind spirit and body at peace even the rain had stopped.

  As I proceeded down the overgrown path I noted that the sky had changed once again. This time to a lite mint that made the once jagged shadows that clung to the building more resemble soft smoke. I passed under a weeping willow its soft leaves caressing my face and I cherished the moment. It felt…right I guess. It’s the only word I know how to describe it with. I’ve went through life as a three part being and not having that had left me striped away and raw.

  The creaking of the opening doors drew me away from the moment. The double doors of the asylum stood open now but vacant. No one stood on the decaying porch to greet me. I guess this was my greeting, the opening of the doors.

  The smell of wet and rotting wood met me as I ascended the protesting steps.

  As I stood on porch peering into the darkness beyond I wondered if perhaps it was peering back as its worm exhales of mold, dust and long forgotten things touched my skin igniting my senses.

  The small hand reached out of the darkness taking my hand in his, I didn’t jump or startle, it was warm.

  It was attached to young boy of about seven or eight; he cocked his head and looked up at me with deep brown eyes and a slightly crooked grin.

  “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Me?”

  I could hear rustling and running along with the muffled laughter of children in the further recess of the old building through the open doorway.

  “Yeah, come on its time for you to see.”

  “See, see what?”

  “Come on I’ll show you.”

  Still holding my hand he pulled me further in, leaves old and new along with dirt and other debris littered the floor, and across the hall to a large staircase leading up to the second floor all the while chanting in a soft sing song voice.

  “Show you, I’m gona show you.”

  Once at the top of the stairs he dragged me down the hall of the dilapidated old building to the only room with light in it. It was daytime here.

  The room was pristine with flock wallpaper and the bright summer sun shone through the sheer curtains, of the large open window, swaying in the light summer breeze that carried with it the smell of fresh cut grass.

  On the floor was a big white blanket all laid out for a picnic with plates, glasses, silverware and more food than you could eat in a weak.

  The room was beautiful and tranquil my own little piece of heaven.

  We sat mostly silent, content in our company, eating the most amazing food I had ever tasted in my life as the sounds of children laughter filled the halls of long abandon building.

  The boy would smile up at me every now and then and I would smile back and the boy would giggle.

  “Sounds like the game of hide and seek or whatever they're playing is just starting to get good, don’t you want to go play with them?”

  Without looking up at me shook his head.

  A sound and movement caught my attention; a piece of the wallpaper had fallen of the wall.

  “Are you sure?”

  Another nod of the head, yes this time.

  The breeze coming through the window had died down and along with it the smell of fresh cut grass and the smell of mold was trying to reassert itself.

  The boy finally looked up at me from the apple he was peeling.

  “Did you get enough?”

  “Yeah I’m stuffed.”

  “Good. You know it’s time right?”

  “Time, Time for what?”

  The boy had gone back to working on peeling the apple with greater concentration.

  “Time for what?” I asked again.

  “It’s time for the reaping.” He responded without looking up.

  “Sorry. I don’t understand.”

  Without a word or warning he leaned over and jabbed the knife deep into my left leg.

  “I said its time.”

  Pulling the knife from my leg I scooted back away from him just in case another attack was forthcoming.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I screamed

  The bright sunlight of the summer afternoon was gone replaced by the night I had come from.

  Th
e rain fell through the broken window soaking the tattered curtains that barely managed to hang on the dirty and cracked plaster walls.

  Blood poured from the wound in my leg as the boy and I looked at each other in bewilderment.

  “You don’t know do you?”

  “No, other than you just stabbed me in the fucking leg.”

  The boy started to laugh.

  Something about the laughter pissed me off almost more than the hole in my leg, curtesy of my new little friend.

  The boy was laughing uncontrollably now.

  Little bastard.

  “Shut up! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “You don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what?”

  “Me, or why your here in this place?”

  “No I don’t. I thought… I thought…”

  “You thought…”

  More laughter. His once cute little grin now looked twisted and ugly.

  “Stop it.”

  He continued.

  “I said stop it god damnit!”

  The boy stopped instantly and cocked his head staring at me contemplatively.

  The children’s laughter had stopped.

  “Awe do you want a little more time before we start. A little more wine or some more food maybe.”

  He said it in a