Looking down I watched as the cockroaches and spiders crawled their way up my legs and onto my lap. I tried to brush them off but without success. My hands were tied to the chair, along with my legs. Mentally Altered, I could not move, nor say anything anyone could understand. All of a sudden, there was light! Light! Yes prevailing from this darkroom, as if to puncture it, to stab it in the back, light. It was coming from a door, and it was still opening, allowing more of the free flowing energy to make me warm once again.

As if to dull this lovely feeling, this lovely energy, this lovely light, it was a doctor. A doctor standing there creating a shadow that cast upon me as if to torture me with the lack of light. A doctor who had a smile so pointed that he looked almost evil. He held a glimmering object, a needle to which he shall puncture my body, my soul, my personal bubble.

I wanted to tell him no, I wanted to scream aloud no, no don’t do it! I’m fine, I am all right, release me into the light. Please. Please let me go, so that I may run and enjoy the light. But all I could do was mumble a unrecognizable phrase that would get me no where.

The doctor held up to the light the needle to check for air trapped within. As he lowered the needle to my arm I could see the fluid boil and turn. It was taunting me, warning me, burning me. I screamed a slurred phrase, but he knew what I said. For some reason I liked the fact that he took it personally. Sloppily he stuck me with the needle. I started to scream, not from the puncture, but from the boiling hot liquid that got injected into me and only me. For I was the one who felt the hot moist liquid that burned me and made my flesh crawl.

To the doctor, it was just a simple weekly, supposedly restorative, injection that keeps me normal, keeps me from slipping into what they strive to keep me from. Their medicine doesn’t work, it doesn’t calm me. I don�t settle down, It doesn’t make me stop seeing what my mind wants me to see. It only makes me more mad. Once more I ravish trying to pull myself from my chair, from my straight jacket that I only once got out of.

My eyes twitch and I can all of a sudden see my little friend again. Mr. Twiddles, a 4 inch tall consultant who I have recently joined forces with. He informs me of what I see and what the world sees of me. Hello Mr. Twiddles. How are you today. I say in my mind for I have no need to speak out loud. Mr. Twiddles is one of those people who have no need to hear from your mouth, but from your sub-conscience. “G’day sir. Anything I can assist you with today. Would you like me to stop that bad medicine? It will only make me go away. And then who would you play with?”

Yes. Thank you Mr. Twiddles.

“Your welcome, sir. Is there anything else you want to talk about or do? I mean you conjured me up for some reason.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw something move. It was them. The crawlers. Noticing the insects as the spiders try to push their way into my skin, like a worm pushes its way into the ground. I started to freak out again. The cockroaches found my puncture wound from the needle; it started to push it�s way in. Stunned I watched as 1, 2, 3, of them crawled up into my arm. I could feel their tiny feet walking under my skin. I was losing what little sanity i had left in the form of vocalized slurs and unerring twitches.

“Sir, Sir. SIR!”

I kept screaming, not listening to my little friend. “Sir, they are not real! They are not what the world sees. You see but they do not. Stop this now.”

As if the spiders knew I was starting to calm down, they decided to bite their way into my skin. Causing me to cry out unintelligible screams once again. Then there was a pain in my heart, a pain like as if I was being stabbed by a 12 inch long black blade of pure darkness. I reached for my heart but could not for I was tied down. Now I really started to scream as loud and insane as I could.

Something in my shirt twitched. My shirt started to rip. Out of my heart stepped a little horned demon no taller than my friend.

… to be continued