The Memory Key

I. 28th February, Grace

I lay on a stretcher staring out the hospital window, watching the glistening sun descend behind the clouds as the path softens with shadows. The luminosity of the bright street lights filters through the window, forming obscure shadows. I gasp, reminding myself they’re not going to hurt me.

The relaxing sounds of mother nature slowly disappear as an exuberant world of voices resonant from the cafes and bars loudens. I continue to lay in peace, taking each breath with gratitude. I pray for one more day as I feel myself drifting off. But before I lose conscious, I hear the door open. My heart beat increases, as I open my eyes and see a mask covered face.

II. 25th March, John

For twenty years, I have been enclosed, bounded by concrete walls hiding the light of the sun from my fate. As I sit on my chair, I stare longingly at the paintings on my wall. Each painting sparks different memories, from holding my mother’s hand to leaving my wife, although some I cannot remember, leaving unfilled voids inside me and my mind unsettled and nervous. The cold air whispers over my face, cleansing my hot, moist skin and relaxing my muscles. My mind starts to wonder, why I’m here again.

III. 4th June

The lonely atmosphere quickly changed to terrifying chaos as he turned the corner. Ambulance sirens rang in despair. The noise intensified as people screamed in fear for their loved ones, in a fight against death. As he passed through the carpark and into the hospital, his eyes were drawn to the shimmering red and blue lights flickering over the wounds and scars of the old brick wall. Amid the chaos, one woman’s scream plunged the hospital into silence.

John awakened with his hand cloaked in blood. Each mouthful he swallowed, he could feel his gums burning to the cells of his throat.

IV. 4th June, William

Sitting on the floor of my cold, damp cell, I mourn in pain, scraping a knife against the solid dirt wall. As the density slowly thins, the dirt gets softer, relieving the pain from hand. After I scrape the last layer of dirt away, my vision becomes filled with a twinkle of blue. I sigh in relief, feeling my muscles finally relax. But who knew a little twinkle of blue could bring me so much happiness for I could now taste freedom. Before I take my last step, I stare back blankly through the extensive hole remembering one last time, the person I was when I came.

Then I awake to banging, echoing through the corridor subtly as it sinks through the walls of my cell. The banging slowly fades, to where scrawled words are now muttered under breath. I panic as the words violently rush over my conscious, each word louder than the last, as my muscles slowly numb, restraining the anger inside me. Silence.

V. 6th June, John

As tears descend over my pores, my skin softens to the warmth, and I feel my muscles loosen. This is when I realise, I can feel again. My heart opens, as I lay in silence listening to the voices of my mother slowly dwindle in my mind. I lay my hand on my leg, feeling my hairs descend to the light touch of my fingers. The pain of my mother’s voice burns my heart so strenuously, I become frozen. For that moment in reality, is now gone. One last tear drops from my eye, easing the tension inside me, as my thoughts linger far from my presence. I turn from the paintings on my wall, gently placing my face into my pillow.

In the midst of the silence, I hear a knock on my door. Pulling myself out of bed, my legs dragging my body, I walk and open the door. Confronted with an unpleasant presence, I slam the door in fear, and before my eyes, he is gone. I can feel sweat beading on my forehead, as I know his presence still lurks at my door. His voice sends shivers up my spine “welcome to the last day of your life”. I thought I was going to throw up again. But I just lay still in the comfort of my blanket, in silence.

I have nowhere I can feel safe anymore. As days go by, I panic more, as I blindly await the next attack. If I pass someone, I wonder if they will shank me or crawl up to me on their knees. Every day, I’m confronted by a new surprise. But for all the pain I receive, only one day will I understand why.

VI. 7th June, John

I take off my dirt covered clothes and put on my pyjamas. Slowly getting into bed, I can feel my eyelids start to close. I lay peacefully reflecting on my day, as the soft blanket caresses my body, reminding me of my mother’s cuddle. It gives me security. My eyes start to close this time more powerfully. My thoughts leave me vulnerable to sleep. Finally, I succumb and drift off.

As I walk down the street, camouflaged by the dark, night sky, I hear a woman scream. . My muscles however weaken, and I lose hope. My body falls to the ground in sorrow.

As I lay there, I look out the corner of my eye and see two feet. I scream “it’s the masked man, its him!” Pulling my body up in agony, I pursue him in order to avenge his sins against women. I slowly gain on him. As he turns, he trips over allowing me to grab his knife, leaving him hopeless. I pull off his mask and gasp. I see myself.

The shock wakes me. This is why I am here. I am the killer. The missing link to all my memories I have found.