Short Stories of an Untreated Mind Read online



  Short Stories of an Untreated Mind

  By Jose Luis Solórzano

  Copyright 2012 Jose Luis Solórzano

  ISBN: 978-1-4764-0240-6

  Waxing Darkness (A fantasy novel)

  For David, Mike, Maggy and Lydia. The Best e-friends a guy could ask for (even though I didn’t).

  Table of Contents:

  Heaven

  Johanna

  A Letter

  Unstable Ground

  Author’s Note

  Afterword and Acknowledgements

  Heaven

  The one thing that was on Michael’s mind was his crimson haired bride, Michelle. The world that he was in had offered him no such peace, so he had decided to create his own. Literally, there was absolutely nothing in this world that he resided in. The only thing for miles was a pure, empty darkness. The darkness that surrounded him was like a prison.

  He had lived in the human world long before entering this one. His life before even knowing Michelle was much like the world that he was currently in: cold and empty. For a long time, Michael was missing a vital part of human existence: love. Michael grew up an orphan, his mother giving him up at birth; but he had learned quickly how to appear normal and “all together”. It wasn’t until he left for college that he finally found what he believed was love and truly started living.

  Michael had been wandering this empty realm for what felt like years, maybe even decades. There was no way for him to track his time in this place. It was the perfect kind of Hell for anyone who truly knew what it meant to feel. Michael never felt upset or depressed in this world, but there was also nothing that could make him the least bit happy or upset. It was a complete separation from emotion; it was almost like he never really existed.

  The void seemed to be ever expanding around the young man, having no absolute walls or boundaries. Michael had no idea how he even entered this endless void in the first place. One of the strange things about this world was that Michael seemed to have never aged a day; and he had not felt any physical or hunger pains. Fatigue and exhaustion were also non-existent for him in this place. Michael had never stopped walking since he entered this place, not once, and yet nothing seemed to affect him. All of his needs were being sustained, which easily became a frightening thought for him.

  The biggest mystery, Michael believed, was finding out exactly how he ended up in this kind of world.

  Endlessly, Michael had tried to remember what happened on his last day on Earth, thoughtlessly trying to figure out what had happened to him. He could remember that it was a Saturday; the weather was nice and he had just awoken with Michelle sleeping on his chest. The next thing he could remember was waking up in this dark place, scared beyond his wits. Maybe that single thought of holding her wasn’t bad for a “final memory”; it had given him the needed drive to continue on and find an exit.

  “Huh,” Michael gasped. For the first time, since he had entered the darkness, Michael had not only stopped, but was able to smell something. It was faint, but he could clearly feel his nose hairs burning due to the odor that had filled the air. It was a humorous idea; this very scent was one that he was used to, but now he found it absolutely repulsive. It didn’t take Michael even a second for him to figure out the surprising smell.

  He smelled beach water! Even before entering the dark world, it had been awhile since Michael had been to a beach. He grew up next to a coast line but the college he attended was in the middle of the country. In the end, that much didn’t seem matter to him; the simple experience of just smelling something from the outside world was overwhelming. As Michael continued to walk, he was introduced to another surprise. Under his bare feet, Michael could feel the sting of black road gravel.

  Everything seemed to be slowly making sense in Michael’s mind. Almost instantly, everything seemed to be clicking together, and he started remember more and more. He and Michelle were still on their honeymoon on the day that he was stolen from Earth. He had promised Michelle that he would take her by the beach, the one that he would always visit after school when he was younger. As Michael kept his feet on the road, he could see a light signaling him in the distance. He hoped that the closer he got to the light, maybe he could remember more about how he got here. However, as the light grew brighter and grander, there was nothing else that he could remember. In an instant, the light had engulfed him, completely blinding him. There was a loud bang that proceeded afterwards.

  The light had dimmed as quickly as it erupted. Michael was now standing in the middle of an abandoned road. It was the middle of the day, and he could clearly see that the beach was in walking distance. Before he could even move there was something that was blocking his way, keeping him completely still. The sight had nearly caused him to gag. A compact, dark blue car was lying on the side of the road. The driver’s side had received the majority of the damage, while the passenger side had only sustained a small number of dents. Michael moved a little closer, and saw a lifeless body lying in the passenger seat.

  It had all finally returned to him: It was all an accident. There was no way for them to avoid the drunk, angry truck driver who was driving on the wrong side of the road. There was no room for both cars to fit, and their car was moving too fast for him to safely stop, and someone had to make a choice. In that instant, Michael had chosen to give up his own life, crash violently into the side of the road, and hope that Michelle would escape only with minor cuts. It would be his final act as a human being—no, as a man—to prove to the world that everyone has the capacity to show a never ending love for another human being.

  Michael could only infer that once the car had crashed, the darkness had taken him, body and soul, only to bring him back to the place where he had died. He could see Michelle’s pale body, appearing to be perfectly asleep. She appeared to have suffered no physical damage, causing him to believe that she died of either shock or a heart attack. Michael knew that he had made the right choice, even if he didn’t mean to cause Michelle’s death. Knowing that Michelle was destined to die anyway, Mike knew that he would always give up his life for this woman.

  Michael slowly opened the door, not fully aware of what he was doing. A few seconds passed, and Michelle’s legs started to step out of the car in a graceful fashion. Her eyes slowly began to flutter opened, and she smiled knowing that Michael was the first thing that she saw. No words were spoken between the two; everything seemed to just make sense between the both of them. In an instant, Michelle grabbed Michael’s arm and started running toward the beach. Michael ran at the same speed as Michelle, knowing that he would stick with her forever.

  “We made it.”

  Johanna

  According to official reports, I was pronounced dead sometime in the early afternoon on a warm summer day in the late 1800’s. While I do still have memories of when I was alive, I cannot seem to remember exactly how I died. According to the obituaries and official records, I was shot in the back of the head in the middle of a robbery. It’s unfortunate though that they had never captured those who were responsible for my untimely death.

  I mean, I have to be dead though, right? It was hard for me to figure it out the first few days. There is no one out there who just shows up and explains to you the rules of being dead. You’re just left to figure it out yourself. Fortunately for me, finding out that I was a ghost was a little bit obvious. I mean, not everybody experiences waking up next to their own lifeless body. My dark black hair was hanging over my pale face. It was obvious that I wasn’t a day over the age of fifteen when I was murdered.

  There are a few rules that I have learned though while I existed as a mere ghost, at least, that’s what I think I am. I
f there ever is some kind of official scientific word for someone who lives on after death besides “ghost”, please let me know. One of the first things that I learned is that if I wanted to, I could actually move objects. Whenever the living seemed to be caught up in a passionate fight, I would knock over a vase or two so that there would at least be a few moments of silence.

  Over the many years, I watched as other people entered the house that I once lived in and play out their own stories right in front of me. I really don’t mind it; in fact, it’s actually quite entertaining. There’s not much you can do when you are a ghost. There have been stories of love, stories of anger, stories that end in heart break, and stories that end in delight.

  Another rule that took me a bit by