Past Memories

I was not able to breath, my vision was going blurry, I couldn’t hold myself. My eyes were stinging, I could feel my cheeks wet. Everything was moving, moving way too fast. There is light, I tried getting up, and everything went black.

My eyes fluttered, they were heavy, light was shining. My blue eyes met another pair of blue, mine was confused whereas his was concerned.

Looking around I realized I was in a hospital bed with all the machines beeping around me. A minty breath met my face and I soon realized how close he was to me. I could feel another panic attack coming, he moved away. I guess he sensed it.

I knew he would be having a lot of questions but I can’t answer them without telling my past, the past that I have tried hiding.

He doesn’t say anything, he just holds my hand and stare at the TV screen showing some commercials.

I have tried getting away from my past to such extent that I don’t speak anymore. I am called mute and many other names but I can’t speak, I don’t have the energy. The more I try to forget those memories, the more they make their presence in my mind known. It’s like I am reliving those memories.

That dark night, that alley, those people, their laugh, the drinks and the smoke, these were too many things to forget. I am even scared when anybody stands too close to me. This is one of the reasons of my panic attacks and also why I am here, stuck in a hospital room.

They know I won’t speak, still those hopeful stares, those pleading eyes make me want to speak, but if they know I said something, they will kill me.

I know I am being insane but I have thought of cutting my tongue a lot of times. No tongue, no scope of me speaking, and these memories will just be memories which I wouldn’t have to be scared of spilling out.

The door clicked open, making me aware of my surroundings. The smile on the doctor’s face was so hopeful that I feel guilty of ruining everything. She checked my blood pressure and heart rate and told me to follow her to her office.

He was sitting there, his eyes following each and every moment. My best friend from kindergarten followed with me, holding my hand, giving me support.

None of them knew what was going to happen, neither did I. But as soon as my eyes were laid on the surgical knife in her office, my mind was running on its own.

Unconsciously and without any of them noticing, my hand had got hold of the knife. My knuckles had gone white with the pressure I was holding it, like squeezing the life out of it.

Before they could react or do anything, or in this case before even I could react, my hand had automatically cut my tongue out. The blood was everywhere, my screams were silenced. The shock on their faces were painted with red. After everything, the white dull walls got a little color on them.

It was like a silent film. No words spoken, no sound made, just the action. The only difference, this was reality and now my past memories would only be mine. No one would know, but only me.


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