Content Warning: This story contains mature themes, disturbing situations, and intense psychological distress that some readers may find unsettling. Reader discretion is advised.
“For your safety, I’m going to need you to stay a safe distance away.”
“What?” Mary confusingly asked, with a higher pitch.
“Ma’am, paramedics have just arrived. Can you please go meet them?” the operator suggested as an alternative way to create distance.
“Oh—I’ll be right there,” she said with a slight glance down at me before disappearing out of sight.
Glad that she was away and getting help, I laid there, staring at the ceiling. Attempting to distract myself from what was happening and the intrusive thoughts that were gnawing into me, I focused on a small crack. That small fissure that I’d meant to fix for months gave a single point to focus my attention. “I wonder what’s the correct way to repair that?” I thought.
My attention remained solely focused on the crack until the ceiling subtly shifted; I watched, a mere passenger in my body, trying to comprehend what was happening.
“What the hell!” I could hear the springs of the mattress relax as my vision tracked across the ceiling and down the wall. With another squeak from the bed, I watched the small bedside table grow smaller. “How am I even standing?”
Scared and confused, I caught sight of my haphazard appearance in the tall mirror in the corner of the room. Watching intently, my body wobbled slowly like a drunkard, all while accompanied by a sinister, grimacing face. The ungraceful locomotion I was exhibiting was only second in my mind to the question of how this was happening. Nearing the entry to the bedroom, I heard the front door creak open as my body stopped and twitched in that direction.
“Over here!” I heard Mary yell.
Reacting to the shout, my body now moved at a faster pace. As I walked down the hallway and past the photos of our wedding day, I heard some part of me scrape against the wall. Turning the corner into the living room, my eyes darted towards the wide-open front door.
“I could really use—” my thought cut off by wet, guttural snarls.
Listening intently as my body continued to move towards the door, I heard the snarl again. “What is that? Is that me?” I thought, not feeling any vibrations coming from my throat. Straining my eyes to each side, I could only see the walls of the room and the door ever-nearing.
“Straight in and down the hall,” came Mary’s voice from outside.
“Yes”—I attempted to scream—“I need help!”
Rushing right through the door, a small-framed man appeared. “Shit!” he yelled, as his eyes and mine locked.
“He’s right here,” he relayed back, setting his medical bag on the floor. “Sir, I’m going to need you to stop and have a seat for me.”
“I can’t!” I instinctively replied, forgetting my loss of control.
“Whoa, stop!” he screamed as my hand grabbed onto him.
“Stop!” I futilely screamed, as I saw the first strike of my fist onto his face. His attempts to evade the volley of blows failed as blood smeared across his face, following each hit. “I can’t help this!” I mutely screamed again.
“Bill!” yelled a feminine voice, forcing my eyes to turn hard to the right, as the image of another paramedic came into view. Locking our eyes, only for a split second, I attempted to convey that this attack wasn’t my doing. Breaking our contact, her eyes went back to her partner, and she released an ear-piercing scream. Returning my eyes back forward, I was forced to watch my fist continue to strike this poor man. As my arm wheeled back for another hit, I caught my first clear look. The face of my bloodied victim resembled ground meat, as bits of torn flesh hung from his face and part of his shattered jawbone protruded.
My eyes, fixated on this horrific sight, darted uncontrollably around the poor man’s body. Then, in a new, terrifying development, they locked onto the pen in the paramedic’s front pocket. “No!” I screamed as my hand pulled the pen from his pocket and lifted high into the air. With a quick succession of blows, blood, like a faucet set to full, gushed from the multitude of stabs into the side of his neck. “For the love of God, please stop!” I internally screamed, trying to shut my eyes and block out this image. There was no hope, as I soon realized there was no end to viewing this nightmare. I was trapped. With the man’s gurgling screams falling silent, my hand opened, allowing him to collapse to the ground.
As I stood there, continuing to stare at the wall, I had another shocking realization. Looking out at my blood-soaked outstretched arms, that it wasn’t just the full body numbness and loss of control, I couldn’t smell. I was covered in blood, yet there was no metallic smell, just nothingness. “Sniff,” I kept repeating. With no feeling of air moving through my nose, my mind raced to find any still intact sensory feeling. “Breathe!” I screamed to the confines of my mind. “What the fuck!” coming up with nothing. A whimpering sound perked my attention. “That’s right! I can hear!” A sense of levity filled my mind.
Turning and squaring up to the frozen, shock-filled partner. “Oh, God!” I cried. Before she could move out of the way, my arm launched out and my hand grabbed the side of her head.
“Aaaaah!” she shrieked in pain as her hair was tightly squeezed and her head was driven into the wall.
Attempting to fight back, she reached towards my face, her fingers blocking my left eye.
“Please take my eyes!” I pleaded, hoping she would blind me from this continued viewing.
The screams of pain soon lessened as now a wet slapping sound took over. Her hand dropped from covering my eye and out of either pure instinct or morbid curiosity, I focused on her. Her head had begun to concave as I repeatedly drove it into the door frame. With one more hit, I watched her eye unfocus and gloss over, as her body went limp.
“Please, somebody make this stop,” I prayed to the abyss as I heard the body thump to the ground.
“Jim!” screamed a familiar voice.
“No, no, no,” I started repeating as Mary stepped further into view, just outside the door. “Run! Please!”
“What have you done?” she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.
Taking a step forward, panic ensued as I was now moving towards her. Her whimpers filled the deafening silence as each step brought me closer.
“Fucking Run! Please!” I begged.
Exiting the house and onto the porch, I saw my bloodied hands now come into view. Taking another step forward, my focus on Mary was so intent the world around her had fallen away. As she backed up against the porch railing, trapping herself, an intense feeling of despair enshrouded me. “Please get away, this isn’t me”, I pleaded, seeing the fear in her face and the trembling of her body.
It wasn’t until I heard electrical clicking and the feeling other than nothingness that broke through my tunneled vision. A sharp pain that started in my chest quickly overtook my entire body. As my vision again quivered, I watched the floor rapidly near, and my face hit the wood planking of the patio. Laying on the ground, I felt a firm grasp onto my wrist, which pulled my right arm behind my back.
As my other arm was wrenched behind, “Oh my God,” I said, realizing that I could feel something.
“God isn’t going to help you,” said the rough voice behind me.
“You can hear me?” I questioned anxiously.
“I’m not deaf!”
Hearing those words of confirmation, I couldn’t help but start bawling. With tears streaming from my eyes, I felt a pull on both of my shoulders as I was lifted from the ground. Feeling the cold wood beneath my bare feet, I looked through my tearful blurred eyes at Mary in her flowing flowered dress.
“Mary, I swear to God, I didn’t do this!” I pleaded, hoping she would believe me.
She was shaking so badly that she couldn’t find the words.
“Please Mary, listen,” pulling against the officer, “I couldn’t control it!” Her wet eyes narrowed and with down-turned brows, she turned away. “It wasn’t me,” I pleaded, still trying to free myself. “Look at me … You have to believe me!”
J.L. Gang 
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