He, at that moment realised they would haunt him forever. These recollections that Greg had, though locked away in the vault of his subconscious, were still vivid. They were just lying there, like a dormant volcano, waiting for the slightest trigger .He never wanted to remember. That is how he kept it at bay. It had no power to take over him if he didn’t give it the time of day. But there were times when it slithered in to torment him.
He was standing in the palladium coloured kitchen of his, looking out the window, waiting. Standing there, he felt like he was the wife of a soldier who had gone to war and hadn’t returned ever since. But, unfortunately, he did not have such luck, they would be back, sooner rather than later. He looked at the kitchen knife in his hand. He had totally forgotten about it. He stared at the onion. Then it came. Like a cold blow to his face, it made him stagger to the refrigerator. Greg tried taking his mind off the knife, but his eyes were glued to it. He felt like he was staring in face of a siren of death, compelled to watch his own demise. He was panting heavily and beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. His left hand gripped the handle of the refrigerator, the other one trembling with the knife in his hand. He frantically threw the knife away, and collapsed to the floor. The kitchen was becoming blurry, he was groggy. Greg watched the room grow dark, a dark black curtain cascading over the palladium magnificence. Everything was fading into oblivion, everything except the knife. It lay there, resolute and ominous like the enchanted sword of King Arthur, foretelling a miserable tragedy that awaited him. He had to fight it. It was the past.. He wasn’t living in his own imaginations, neither was he crazy. Something lurked in the shadows of his mind. Greg knew he was not the one thinking about the knife. “It” was pushing him. He could sense it within him, breathing darkness into his mind. He screamed out and the darkness drew back, but it did not leave. Then, with all the strength he could muster, he caused his mind to drift to another memory. A pleasant memory…
The calm breeze gently rustled through the well-cut grass of Central Park, whispering its mysteries to the lovebirds that harmlessly roamed its charming and majestic domain. Greg was sitting on the grass with Veronica, her head lying comfortably on his lap. They were done with the picnic, but not with each other. Greg stared into her big brown eyes. She saw it and she blushed, glancing away from him.
“What on earth are you looking at?” she asked, her smile revealing the dimples that Greg had adored for years.
He smiled back and said , “You know, you asked me the exact same question last year, in this exact same spot.”
He softly stroked her long black wild tresses with the back of his hand and shifted his gaze to look at two dogs playfully chasing each other around the park. This was what he wanted, everyday for the rest of his life. But deep down he knew that could never be. He would just have to be content with what he could have, for now. She had caught his eye and he had done what he could to discourage any contact. But she was a persistent little thing and had not taken no for an answer. He had fallen in love with her though he had known it was a terrible mistake. It would not end well, but he would hold it off as long as possible. For once in his life he was happy, he was in love…..
He came to, on his kitchen floor. He was covered in sweat and had a killer headache. It always took so much of him, blocking out these episodes. But he knew he couldn’t run away much longer. He would have to feed it, that dark hunger. He had no choice or else it would be his life next.