Some Sort of Chaos
by Elizabeth Averay
Splayed out on the barren, scorched ground, shackles on my wrists and ankles with chains attached and pulled taut. Connected to iron stacks hammered into the parched ground. Limbs aching from being stretched beyond their limits, and chafed ankles and wrists. My skin blistered and burned from the relentless fireball in the sky that is a constant blood red. I lie here, praying for death but in this place, this Hell, death never comes.
Constantly tormented by spirits, imps and little devil-like creatures I am never alone, always in excruciating pain. Occasionally malevolent spirits will appear and pass through me, leaving their tainted memories of murder and repeated rapes from when they were living beings.
I lost hope of escape a long time ago.
Sometimes I will pass out for a while. These times are both a relief and a torment, as when out cold I am in a safe place where my loved ones tell me they love me, and that everything will be all right. And there are doctors who treat my wounds. But then I wake up to my never-ending hell.
The hellhounds find me and start to eat my flesh, which very slowly regenerates and the blood that I lose is sucked up greedily by the ground. Just as it begins to shake and tremble a cacophony of noise – shouts and clashes – hits me. A large troop of nightmares marches past and still I am being savaged by multiple beings. In my head I can hear the ghosts of my family telling me to hang on, and that the doctors will find a cure.
Hearing my family is bittersweet. I remember life before this hell, but I know I shouldn’t be hearing them. That means I am going crazy. That might be nice – it will be an escape from here, if just mentally…
Suddenly, without warning, I am back with the doctors and nurses, lying on a hospital bed and my body whole. I don’t even remember passing out to come here!
One doctor looks at me and asks if I know where I am. My answer of course is yes, I’m in hell and imagining I’m with all of you.
The doctor smiles at me, shaking his head. ‘No, my dear, you are in a mental health ward in a special hospital, and hell is all in your head.’
But I don’t know. If it was all in my head then why does my head feel like I am floating, not really here? The chaos of Hell is just one mental step away…
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