My mind is like a record, left on playback, constantly looping, never stopping, always repeating the same notes, over and over and over. Ad nauseam.
I’m amazed I’ve lasted as long as I have. Most men would have lost it in less than a year. But not me. For over two decades, I have been hearing the same record play the same tune. From the tender age of a boy, it began – a small note, something others would have ignored, but not I.
I listened to the melody, got caught in its vicious trap, its intrusive cycle. Sealed in the routine of the song, the melody grew stronger every day and thereon, it took total control, dominated my mind, controlled my life.
It almost destroyed me on several occasions. Luckily, I managed to survive; luckily, I managed to hold on to the slither of strength I had left.
I suppose you’re wondering, why don’t I just switch off the record and stop listening to it? I have tried, believe me, dear reader, I have tried.
Every time I attempt to block out the endless loop, it always comes back, louder and louder.
What does my mind play, I hear you ask?
Words. Words of great disturbance, words of darkness, words that must be purified. Cleansed of their evil. Decontaminated with the light of goodness.
Now, I hear you say, they are only words … Can words cause harm?
Oh, dear reader, I shall shed light on why these dark words must be purged of their vileness in order to prevent any harm that their wretchedness could bring.
It’s because of the Mighty One.
Who is that? I hear you wonder. Allow me to explain. The Mighty One is a being of omnipotent power, a being that processes my thoughts in a heartbeat and can make them happen.
The Mighty One resides in the far reaches of my consciousness. We are linked – we are one, it and I. We both determine the fate of the world.
I did not ask for such a heavy responsibility, the Mighty One chose me and made me the guardian of all life. You can’t even begin to imagine how hard it is having to hold all our lives in my mind.
My mind. The battlefield. Where every minute of every hour of every day is spent battling the dark words with the words of salvation.
I know what you’re thinking: I’m crazy.
You could be right. Of course, you could be wrong.
Who’s to say that my mind doesn’t have the power to cause pain and misery if the dark words were ever processed by the Mighty One?
The world is a mystery; who knows what incredible things lurk behind the veil of reality, the mask of sanity, the logic of reason?
There is a good chance it all could be in my head. Maybe I have a disturbed mind that needs to make an average guy like me seem important to the world. Or could there be a phenomenon that this mind of mine contains? My mind … the key to the destruction of someone, of everyone and – worst case scenario – of the whole wide world.
Not to mention, the key to destroying my very self if the words wished to.
Might I be a man with an overactive imagination sparked into overdrive, no longer able to tell reality and fantasy apart? Or might I be a guardian, keeping the world and all lives within the world existing every single day, non-stop?
Whatever I am, I stand on the fine line between life and death, good and evil, light and darkness, purity and corruption, peace and mayhem, hope and doom, existence and oblivion.
I suppose you are wondering by now… what are the dark words that may or may not cause catastrophic effects?
You’re not going to like the answer but I can not tell you what the words are. To even speak of them or write them could cause the catalyst. The dark words must remain sealed in my head.
You may not care about risking the possible end of your life, another life, my life or all life in the world, but I do.
I’m afraid I can not take such a risk to indulge your curiosity.
Fret not, dear reader, for while I am unable to give you the apocalyptic words, I can give you the words of salvation that were given to me by the Mighty One.
And when you read these words, think of the difficult struggle that I, your sole protector, must do to keep you going to bed, safe and sound, every night.
There is no rest for me, there is no peace for me. I have a duty that I must uphold till the day I die.
And to you sceptics out there, those who do not believe me, those who feel I am mad or making this up: continue to live your life as you wish, in bliss.
Whether I am a guardian or not, these are the words I must repeat endlessly to keep you all alive and well as I sit here on my own, day in, day out, locked in my little white room.
Oh Mighty One, protect the world.
Oh Mighty One, protect all life.
Oh Mighty One, protect me.
Oh Mighty One, do not unmake the world.
Oh Mighty One, do not unmake all life.
Oh Mighty One, do not unmake me.
Oh Mighty One, never forsake the world.
Oh Mighty One, never forsake all life.
Oh Mighty One, never forsake me.
Oh Mighty One, have mercy on all life.
Oh Mighty One, have mercy on me.
Oh Mighty One, give all life strength.
Oh Mighty One, give me strength.
Please, Mighty One, please.
P.M. Thomas is an author from Birmingham, UK. He has always had a love and passion for the art of storytelling, especially when it’s associated with horror. Find more of his work at: https://philipbrocklehurst3.wixsite.com/p-m-thomas