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Mind Monsters

   She madly typed on the keyboard, hoping to get away from the monster that stalked her. She had tried to get rid of it before, but she knew now that it didn't work like that. She couldn't escape from this monster. It stalked her, creating images so clearly, so violently. She could not escape this demon because it was a part of her. It explored her mind, showing her pictures she did not want to see. Would they ever stop?
    Kate Robberts had never noticed something was wrong with her friend until it was too late. She blamed herself for what had happened. It wasn't her fault she hadn't noticed, no one else had either-but there was always that small chance that she could have changed the course of time. Once again the images hit her. She felt as if she were drowning in them, felt as if each one was another weight dragging her down. Would she ever forget? No. How could she? She was the one that had found the body. The picture floated into her head. She remembered all of the blood, her best friend's eyes glazed over. She had known that she was dead the minute she had seen those eyes. Her scream had echoed down the hallway of her dorm. She hadn't even realized she was screaming until others started to flood into the hall, trying to figure out what had disturbed their sleep. She had run to Sarah's side, and instinctively craddled her in her arms, protecting her from the world she would never see again. She remembered the promise she had made.

    "I'll always protect you," she had said. "You know that right?"
    "Yup, I know you wouldn't let anything hurt me," Sarah had said, looking up to her. She was lying on the floor-Kate was stretched out on the bed.
    "Just making sure you knew that. I'm always here for you," Kate had said.

    She had broken that promise, she had let something hurt Sarah. Something had eaten at her friend until she commited suicide. She had left a note saying there was nothing anyone could have done-she just couldn't deal with the stress life had given her. 'No one could have saved me, it couldn't be avoided. I tryed to come up with other answers but this is the only way I could see. I don't blame anyone. I love you all.' But, no matter what the note said, Kate blamed herself. The demons wouldn't give someone up so easily.
    The funeral had been Thursday. Kate had stood up to read Sarah's favorite poem. She couldn't read a word, because her tears had blurred her vision. She felt alienated ever since it happened. Everyone had been acting like they were tiptoeing on eggshells around her. She needed support-not people avoiding her eyes as she passed them in the hall or acting as if she might burst out crying any minute. She typed faster trying to get the awful pictures out of her mind. She was writing a story about Sarah's life. She wanted Sarah's story to be told. She was almost done. She had been working on it for over a week now. It had the ups and downs found in everyone's life-only it was special. it was Sarah's life. All the parties, the stupid things they laughed at, their favorite things to do together, and all of her boyfriends. 17 years crammed into 32 pages. Kate was just finishing up the last memory she had with Sarah. They had been in the cafe across the street. Sarah seemed happy for Kate, because of a stupid date. They had been drinking milkshakes-Kate's was chocolate and Sarah's was strawberry. Sarah always had strawberry.
    As Kate typed up the last few minutes she had seen Sarah, tears streamed down her face. She couldn't stand not having her best friend there with her. It was 10:00pm by the time Kate finished the story. It ended something like this: If she thought this would be easier on everybody-she was wrong. And this wrong answer cost her her life. She had her whole life in front of her and she threw it away. I miss her, a lot.
    Kate dragged herself over to her bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she fell asleep. She wasn't even safe from the demons there. Nightmares tore at her as she tossed and turned. Sarah alone in her room with a knife. Sarah bleeding, her life ebbing and flowing out though the wounds in her wrists. The self inflicted wounds.
    She forced herself awake. Sweat was running down her back. Her blankets were in a tangled heap on the floor. She was beathing heavily. She got out of bed and went back to the computer. She started typing about the demons. As she did, it seemed as though they were fading as she spoke about her pain. She finished typing her pain, highlighted it all and pressed the delete key. She started another story. About her life. It wasn't going to end like Sarah's, she promised herself. She wasn't going to die before she lived.
    Two weeks later, Kate finished the first part of her story. Her road was bumpy, filled with pain and grief, but she came out of it alive. It ended like this: I hold my head high. I will deal with life's bumps. I will live.

Quite different compared to the other one. Copyrighted 2003 by Faith Andrews (KS)