Ben White

I’m drowning in a lake of fire. The flames eat through my skin with ease, causing my body to go through unbearable agony. With every second that passes, I feel an infinite stream of tears running down my cheeks. My soul is being devoured by an eternal darkness while my heart is slaughtered with my own sorrow. I search for hope, for bliss, for love. There is none. I look for an end to my misery—a knife, a gun, a sword. There is none. The pain causes a piercing scream to escape my lungs which echoes through my ears. I hear demons and their demented laughter. I hear the fire tearing through my tissue. I hear………………a baby?

My eyes open to the baby’s high pitched shriek. Thank god, it was just a dream. I scan my surroundings. I’m lying in a hospital bed next to a weeping child, also known as a Big Headache. There are several needles placed in my arm, my face is wet with tears and my eyes are nearly swollen shut. While my emotions begin to build a puzzled look upon my face, a razor sharp pain shoots through the side of my body. I feel as if there are a thousand needles ripping through my skin, tearing through my stomach. My misery knocks down the mounting confusion in order to construct a towering

building of agony. My situation becomes clear and I’m filled with disappointment. I’m a nine year old child and I have appendicitis. It wasn’t a dream, hell is my reality.

It all started with a family dinner. The dining room consisted of my mother, my dad and my sister. We all sat down smiling, closing our eyes, bowing our heads in prayer. While my mother was giving thanks, I found the food rather distracting. My eyes wandered across the table, staring at each of the miracles my mother had made. There were mashed potatoes dripping with gravy, a juicy tenderloin steak that was marinated to perfection, and a luscious cake covered in layers of rich chocolate frosting for dessert. My stomach roared with excitement. The aroma entered my nose, filling it with pure pleasure. I closed my eyes, pretending to be in sync with the rest of the family.

My mother finished her prayer, lifted her head, and opened her eyes, along with everyone else. As soon as the food was on my plate, I dove into the pool of gravy, sinking my teeth into the mouth watering meat while my taste buds continued to witness a series of magical moments throughout the meal. My mouth was like a sponge, absorbing the food until I could see my

reflection on my plate. I reached for a slice of chocolate heaven, putting my fork into the moist cake. All of a sudden, my hunger was replaced with a small pain. It felt like someone was taking a thin arrow and sliding a tiny fraction into the left side of my stomach. My mother must have been psychic because it was only two seconds before she asked me if I was ok.

“Yeah, I just need to lie down for a bit.” I excused myself from the table, walking into my room, entering the comforting premises of my covers. I stared at the clock, watching the hands of time push the arrow deeper and deeper into the side of my stomach while the pain held my eyes wide awake. Darn, I can’t sleep. I grabbed my Game Boy Advanced, knowing it would take the focus away from my suffering.

I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know what pain was. I didn’t know that time would become my mortal enemy. I didn’t know the hands on the clock would devise a plan to shoot bundles of thin arrows into the side of my stomach. I didn’t know that my tears were stretching their legs, preparing to run laps along my cheeks. I didn’t know I was going to be rushed to the hospital at midnight by my mother. I didn’t know I was going to spend the

next week of my Easter vacation living there. I didn’t know I was going to have surgery for the first time in my short life. I didn’t know I had appendicitis……But when I did……I was scared out of my mind.

“UH WAAAA, UH WAAAAAA, UH WAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!” The baby’s constant crying caused me to stare at the toddler with an intense dislike. I am never…ever…ever…having a child. The intolerable sound gave me the burning desire to rip out my ears and throw them into the pits of hell. That was the only time in my life I had I ever considered trading places with Helen Keller. While I searched for some aspirin that would put an end to my Big Headache, I recalled one of the many phrases used by my father. Silence is golden but duct tape is silver. Seeing that there was no duct tape nearby, I realized that I was out of luck.

I didn’t know what was worse, getting my appendix removed from the side of my stomach or trying to fall asleep next to a crying baby at three in the morning. I started playing an amusing round of mind tennis, knocking my decision back and forth. Baby... appendix... baby... appendix... baby... appendix… baby… appendix. I ended the game shortly…because as much as I love playing tennis at three in the morning, as much as I enjoy my own

sarcasm, it wasn’t getting me what I needed—sleep. I wanted to ask the doctor if I could get some sleeping medicine but I knew that if my voice tried to compete with the baby’s whining my vocal cord would wind up in a hospital bed next to me. I tried to come up with some way to put myself to sleep, but the severe pain and Big Headache made this task much more difficult then I originally anticipated.

I examined the hospital room once more in order to verify that there was no sleeping medicine nearby. My eyes bounced around the room until something on the wall caught them in mid air. It was a calendar filled with a variety of dogs. There was nothing particularly interesting about the dogs, but for some reason, it reminded me of something…but what? My mind felt like a ticking time bomb, waiting for an explosive flashback to set it off. Boooooommm!!! It hit me. The hands of time grabbed me, pulling me three years into the past, bringing me to the worst experience of my life.

“RUUUFFF, RUFFFFF!!!!” I was at home, sleeping in my room until the barking ruined my slumber. I rubbed my eyes as the white wall next to my bed came into focus. Where is that noise coming from? Did the

“RUUUFFF, RUFFFFF!!!!” Maybe I should get out of bed and see if the dog’s by my bedroom window. This meant that I had to get out of my bed and stare into pure darkness—not happening. He’s probably too far to scare away anyways. I closed my eyes again.

“RUUUFFF, RUFFFFF!!!!” This became annoying. He’ll shut up eventually. “RUUUFFF, RUFFFFF!!!!” I couldn’t take it anymore. I put my fear of the dark aside to find where the noise was coming from. I turned around in shock. I tried to scream but the frightening sight paralyzed my vocal cords. It was a German Shepard, standing next to my bed. I wasn’t scared of dogs, and it would’ve been fine that there was a dog barking by my bed… if I had a dog…

“RUUUFFF, RUFFFFF!!!!” I tried to think, but the fear made it hard for my body to function. I managed to get a few thoughts across. It’s not a ghost. Maybe it’s just a dream. Don’t jump to conclusions. I know what I’ll do. I’ll touch the dog. If I can’t feel him, I must be dreaming. If I can feel him, it must be a ghost. It’s worth a try. I leaned towards the German Shepard, slowly extending the tip of my hand while my body shook with

nose. IT’S A GHOST!!! IT’S A GHOST!!! HOLY… IT’S A GHOST!!! I turned back in my bed as fast as I could, holding my covers for dear life. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move. All the terror had taken over my body, shutting everything down. All I could do was be afraid, be very…very…afraid.

“UH WAAAA, UH WAAAAAA, UH WAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!” The chain of unfortunate events wrapped around my mind, preventing my body from receiving what was needed—aspirin and Nyquil. I tried to find a solution, but the chains’ strong grip made this task out of the question. My situation was becoming hopeless. Clouds of eternal darkness filled my mind while gloomy thoughts poured into my head. My brain had formed a tornado which pulled in any and every spec of hope, never to return again.

I was sitting at home, staring at my scar with a wide smile spread across my face. Why was I smiling? Because…even though the child tricked me into believing that hearing was a curse, even though I was forced into

taking a trip to Hell, even though I was scared half to death by a real ghost when I was only six…it didn’t matter. It was all in the past, and I was