REPRESSION

I cannot feel from my elbow down and knees to my toes. All I am remembering is to breath. Forcing air into my chest. I am exhausted. All I see is red. I started to focus on what I am seeing. Blood. Blood on my hands. A gush of wind amplified the coldness I feel on my hands. On the floor is a blood tinged butcher’s knife. On the left part of the room, a heavily mutilated corpse rest. The limbs are dis-articulated and the internal organs are turned inside-out. A sudden disgust and I felt nauseous. I rushed to the corner and vomit. Ugh! The scent of the blood, fresh and utterly disturbing. I paced to the door. I yelled for help. Thinking that somebody from the other side can rescue me. It is locked but it is lock from the inside. I disregard the obvious. I called for help again. Panic began to embrace me, tears pooling my eyes and desperation came to me. I dropped to the floor with frustrations and hang my head with exhaustion. Then a glitter caught my eye and I was distraught. The key to the lock. The key to the lock was tied unto a string and was hanging on my neck. I looked at the knife, there were only one set of fingerprints and it was consistent to mine.