Those voices

It's 03h00. The cocks are crowing. The smell of the morning is in the air. Soon the east will turn grey and then golden with the sun's rays.

I have been sitting here. Trying not to think. Shutting my mind down. But memories are like dark waves. They push. And press hard. The mental doors give in. They crash. Flinging open with a loud clanging sound.

For me that loud clanging sound triggers headaches. These heavy thuds on the roof of my head. Like there a thousand wild horses racing across a desolate valley.

With a weakened mind, one cannot fight back. So in the middle of the night, I shrink as the hooves trample over me. Squashing me into a bloodied gob.

I am pummeled from all directions. And the voices come. Whispers at first. Like a million insects moving in one motion. Then as the whispers thicken, they become one voice. Hoarse. Agonised. Pleading.

Why, the voice asks. Why?

I shrink further.

We were friends. We walked the same path from the same school. We agreed that you would cover my back. And I your back.

Closing my eyes, I shout back.

“Shut up! Shut up!”

Had it been in the early days, the voice would have shut down. Disappeared. But over the years, it has grown determined. Brave. Antagonistic even.

So it answers back: It should not have been you? You my friend. You knew what happened. You were there. Yet, you did not tell the truth.

“It had to be one of us. Either you. Or me. There were only two choices. You. Or me. I chose you. I saved myself.”

Silence. But again the horses return. Thundering and tearing away across the desolate, empty valley. The whispers withdrew. Take a distance. Become indistinct. But still threatening to meld into one angry voice.

I fought hard to survive the horses. Stilling myself. Telling myself that the horses can run over me but never flatten me.

The fight is repeated until dawn breaks. And I stagger out of bed to take a shower. The bags under my eyes seem to be growing heavier and bigger. My eyes are bloodshot.