medicine

“No, no, no, no, no.” He half whimpered, half screamed. He put his hands on his head, almost as if he wanted to tear it apart from the middle. Eyes were wide with fear, nostrils straining, making a grating sound as air was being sucked forcefully through them. His mouth was panting, in between his exasperated, frustrated, and incredibly worried sounds and exclamations. Sweat glistened on his forehead. Eyes were wet and rimmed red. Forehead crinkled in a frown. He could smell the sweat on his tongue, could feel the roughness of the air, covered as it was with dust. Sharp particles of dust suspended in the air like puppets hanging from the sky. Sharp as diamonds. He could hear the blood pounding in his forehead, could feel it throbbing. “No, no, no, no, no. Argh” he screamed and looked up at the golden sun. Pain. The wind was smooth and pleasant. Whistling softly. Humming a low, beautiful tone. His heart raced. His hands shivered. His feet were equal parts frozen and fidgety. “No, no, no, no, no.” He looked down at the ground. And closed his eyes tight. His head hurt. His eyes watered. His heart raced. He fumbled in his pocket for his medicine, and then remembered that he had left it on his bedside. His bedside. He had dragged her here. He closed his eyes, shook his head. Taking in deep breaths. But somehow he was still out of breath. Lungs about to collapse. He screamed. Pulled at his hair. Stomped around. Crows circled overhead and cawed. Curious about this stranger. The sun was hot. The wind was cool. The air was rough. He was afraid. He was angry. No, he shouldn’t be angry. Why oh why. Why had he forgotten to take his medicine. He didn’t remember. The images came to him fast. And even as he shut the door to his mind, like dr arif had told him.  Even though he shut the door to his mind, they would sometimes break through it, like gallons of water pushing through the door. It would buckle under their weight. He would be flooded. She had been sleeping. So peacefully. So beautifully. Ten years next week. It would have been ten years next week. His hands twitched. His eyes blinked away tears. He hadn’t taken his medicines. He had seen her with another man. Maybe that was a delusion. He hadn’t taken his medicines. But no, he knew the certainty of his eyes. He had seen her with another man. Laughing like she had never laughed with him. He had come home. Dragged her out of bed. By her hair. Brought her hair. He fell on his knees. Crying. Beating himself. Smashing his head on the ground. Her blood pooled around his hands. They were soaked in it. He looked up with forlorn eyes. She lay lifeless under the sun. The birds were louder above him. Carrions circling lazily above. Waiting for him to finish. He collapsed. The birds looked down and saw a body on the ground. A man’s body.