Spread the Word of God?
The words were like static on a broken record. Bishop’s hands were trembling as he waited for the subway train, the number four, to take him downtown. He thought of the disease, the illness. He thought of the education the psychiatrists had facilitated. But there were no medications in his system.
I’m having delusions, he thought and could have cried had his emotions not been numb. How is it possible?
The number four train blared a loud horn as it zipped through the subway tunnel to the platform. The brakes squealed the train to a stop. Bishop stepped through the doors onto the crowded car gripping a pole for stability. His jaw was tight, iron clad as he ground his teeth.
Spread the Word of God!
His eyes were heavy, on the brink of tears. He didn’t want the hallucinations to begin as they always did when he wasn’t on meds. Although it had been a long while since he’d been haunted by hallucinations, he remembered them vividly. He remembered the stale taste in his mouth, like when toxins are released from the bones, and the horrid expressions of the people surrounding him, like animals growling with a sinister sneer, and the touch of someone’s flesh, releasing so many nightmares and skeletons to consume his thoughts and intensify his emotions. His mother’s own hand brought the hallucinations. Time and time again he was haunted by her touch. But she told him he helped her, and he wanted her to be free. She’d kneel beside his bed, praying, and would ask Bishop to reach his hands to her temples. Despite his reluctance, she was his mother, and he always submitted. Quickly a wave of emotion would jolt his heart. He could see the molestations. When Father entered the bedroom, his touch stirred a grotesque sensation of shame. But Bishop was powerless! Hopeless! The beatings she endured from so many boyfriends leading her to place the blame on herself as she succumbed to the prison where she found refuge in with no way out other than Bishop’s hand.
“You’re a messiah,” she told him. “Your gift is grand.” She’d smile and kiss him on the forehead. “I love you always, Bishop. I’ll always be with you.” She touched his chest, and his heart raced. She’d brush his hair from his eyes, and his skin would turn cold with beads of sweat glistening across his pale skin.
Only the medication could make those memories disappear. Only the medication could stop the hallucinations. But that feeling of loneliness, of emptiness, never dissipated.
He wasn’t aware at the time, but the memory of his mother overloaded his emotion, and his eyes were filled with tears. He wiped his face just as the train thundered through the tunnel, disconnecting the lights inside of it.
In the darkness, the devil appeared, like an imprint in the darkness. More like an apparition. The face was pale and wanton and grinned at him. Bishop could see a sadist in that grin. The eyes of the devil were black to the core with fiery red skin surrounding them. The devil was in pain, and the pain erupted into a hollow scream. It faded with the reset of the light, and there, in Bishop’s awed sight, were the blue eyes of a young girl. She was staring at him, and the emotion behind her eyes carried desperation. Her cheeks were dirty and slightly fat. Her hair was matted from the rain. She could be no older than thirteen and appeared saddened to Bishop, who tried to force a smile in an attempt to comfort her. He turned away from those eyes, but she wouldn’t comply. Sitting next to her, uncomfortably close it seemed, was an older gentleman. The girl’s father, Bishop thought, but the man looked nothing like her.
The train squealed to a stop. The girl and her chaperone stood up as the train lurched forward. He took her hand and led her toward the exit. But her eyes were fixed on Bishop, who couldn’t stand to look at her. He was ashamed.
She stopped abruptly next to Bishop, still staring. But Bishop wouldn’t dare look at her. The man she was with watched the girl with a line of fear behind his eyes.
“Lindsey,” he said. “Come on!”
Bishop tried not to look at her. He forced his eyes closed, but still she was there, her face an imprint behind his eyes. He couldn’t shake the image away. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes, and hers were filled with tears. She reached her hand to him, and he cringed. The hand was small on his arm, gentle yet strong.
“Let’s go!” the man said and forced her away.
A wave of emotion rushed through Bishop’s heart.
The doors closed, and Bishop could see the girl’s nightmare.
Spread the Word of God!
He never knew that the girl collapsed on the platform.