Addiction and Psychosis

In a time not unlike today, there lived a man. The details of this man lack importance to this short story, so they will likely not be discussed. Edward was his name, and from the outside, he appeared to be an ordinary man, as far as ordinary goes. However, Edward was far different from ordinary. In fact, if you knew Edward, you might even describe him as extraordinary.

Edward faced a problem, he had a long journey ahead of him. However, the difficulty of this journey was he did not know where it would take him. In fact, he did not know the distance, direction, beginning, or end.

At this point, you may be wondering if this story really contains a journey or if this is some half-thought-through joke. Well, let me be clear: Edward had already started his path, and indeed, it was a long and complex one that would see him face all manner of devilish creatures.

For Edward, it appeared that he was walking alone, but unknown to him, he would be accompanied by forces. I shall be calling them forces, as the details of what they are remain unclear. These forces would mostly look out for and protect Edward, but would also, in equal measure, set traps, hoping and praying for his demise.

“Vanity, vanity, all is vanity,” Edward muttered as he sludged his way through knee-deep mud. The path was bleak and carried the smell of stagnant water, accompanied by sulphur. It had been weeks, months, maybe years, and all he remembered was sludging through this filthy, God-forsaken enigma of a hellhole. The direction in which he walked did not matter. For all he knew, he was walking in circles, again and again. As far as Edward could see, there was nothing but black, stinking mud. Worse than that, Edward had not seen a tree or heard the sound of birds or any creature, small or large. This path continued for some time.

The sun beat down mercilessly, and Edward shuffled across a vast expanse of sand. He had been staring downward for so long he could swear his legs were walking him backwards, his knees bending backwards instead of forwards. Trying to make sense of this he strained, trying to unwrap his mind and focus, but the weight of his journey was beginning to take control. Reality was taking a form outside choice or reason. In all honesty he was little more than some twisted version of himself, lost in the labyrinth of this reality. The path continued for some time.

Flying at great speed, Edward saw the ocean below him. He was moving quickly, some fifty metres above the water. But as he looked down towards this vast ocean, he noticed countless faces staring up at him. The screams of millions upon millions of voices could be heard. Rotting hands reached upwards, grasping with such ferocity that he could see bones snapping as these wretched creatures focused all their attention on him. Many of the faces he recognised, and as he looked time seemed to slow, and with each second clear memories and pictures came and went. His life flashed and each set of eyes staring held a piece of his past, forcing his mind to re-live these moments.

Time was now gone. Thoughts and memories had all but shattered, weaving through time and space. All felt now was fear, wrapped in a blanket of confusion.

“Please, let me die,” he spoke into the emptiness. But in his desperation, all he had left was hope, and even she was gone.

Now I speak to the reader: We all live a life and have a story, these next paragraphs will be left open for you, to write as you desire:

When it is done, let us hope Edward finished this journey and returned to his normal life. Maybe he met a woman, had children, and lived happily until the end of his days. Unfortunately, not all who begin this journey find happiness or return to some sense of normality. This is a path that has been walked since the dawn of time and will continue to be walked for some time.

-kind regards, 

Addiction and Psychosis