Abre Appears

I remember that once, as is per usual, I was in the grip of a potent psychosis. A rat the size of a dog had appeared from behind my washing machine and was lingering around the back of my sofa, but that was the least of my problems. The real problem was inside my head, as demons were fighting there, wanting a full-on war with my ego. They jeered me: Why won’t you fight us, is it because you’ll get battered? That was exactly it – I didn’t want to get battered by no demonic entity. Plus I’d been on drugs all night, and was experiencing an acute comedown…I had no mental clarity or energy left whatsoever.

The demons’ movement inside my skull looked frenetic, like a horror flick on fast forward. There’s no way I’m getting involved with any of them, I thought. When I’m clean and hydrated I’ll take anybody or anything on but when I’m weeping on a comedown I’m easy pickings, and I won’t fight. But simply watching them was traumatic, as they had overtaken my mind; it was my own no longer. Monsters were parading there with carte blanche immunity. They were heinously disquieting. I was becoming more and more agitated, as more things as well as the rat behind the sofa were appearing in my apartment. This was because I believed I lived above the Seventh Circle of Hell. I thought Hitler had built it after Nazi Germany to bring me down there because I was a supernatural being and he was into the occult. In his own words: “Supernatural beings do not deserve the right to life.”

The paranoia, anxiety and trepidation reached fever pitch, a clamour inside of my members. Externally I was fine but inside I wanted to pop with stress. The so-called demons were eating me up bite by spicy bite, I was nothing but tasty piecemeal for them, like crumbs scattered out to the pigeons. I thought I might go insane with the fear and the foreboding, so I started praying to an Angel to deliver me from my darkest hour. I put all my faith in it and imagined it descending down from heaven to help me out. It fortunately arrived in the shape of Bennie, one of my strongest protective spirits, and stood poised outside the patio. “Please help me against these demons,” I begged.

SHE STEPPED INTO MY HEAD and began doing battle. She was so mesmeric to watch in warfare, she moved like, well, an Angel. I should have had 100% faith in her abilities but the drugs were testing my belief systems and I had doubt. Mainly it was due care and regard for her; I didn’t want her getting hurt, not so much as scratched. All I could do was watch proceedings, bricking myself. Eventually the stress reached overload as I knew what hinged on the eventuality of this battle – if the demons won they would escort me underground forever to be battered in the Seventh Circle. Just as I thought I’d be unable to take anymore a little girl appeared next to me – CAME OUT OF ME!!! – mid-swiping a little plastic sword against the demons and slaying them all with an ill-practised stroke. It was Abre. I’d already known her for a number of years. She was my special invention against evil, garnered from a Stephen King novel with my powers to make the make-believe real (but that’s another story…Dr Sleep, if you must know). I can’t believe she came out fighting, she was no taller than my waist, and nothing but a dainty little infant girl herself. I heard the wind, it fell so deathly silent, and I whispered her name upon its brief passing. “Abre…” She retreated into a corner and disappeared. I picked myself up and went for a weird searching walk. I heard my father, deceased from cancer, say from beyond the grave: “That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen…”