Pains of Love Part I


©Zenobia Ragin, All rights owned by Abundant Waters Management, Inc. no parts of this content may be reproduced without the authors sole permission

She wept ceremoniously for days; she believed cathartic tears would wash misery from her soul. On the other side of her cathartics awaited an unforgettable warfare to fight – unmasked drudgery sins from a crimson past – a dueling courtship of decency versus disgust; a final showdown to determine the stability of a sane mind or a mind in perpetual anguish. Whether a notice of eviction would be delivered to a demon that inhabited a matron’s subconscious since her youth.

Low pitch screams were the sounds piercing through her oval slender lips. The corridors echoed with the spurring of the sorrowful lamenting cries exploding from her mouth. One would have thought the growling sounds were of a brown bear whose cubs were in danger of their lives – she expressed no words. But the squeals were well interpreted that this distressed woman had notable emotional scarring, this type of scarring could only be erased with years of therapeutic treatment – which had yet to begin.


Source: Google Images
Source: Google Images

She was admitted this week to Warrensville Psychiatric Group Home. The attending psychiatrist, Dr. Philip Simmons, diagnosed her as Schizophrenic, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and Major Depression; unresponsive, and uncooperative in responding to direct questions. Group therapy was seemingly unproductive at present – patient was disruptive and expressing furious rage toward other patients during sessions. She lacked effort to express verbal communication with staff or other residents.

With no hunger for food, her frame was frail and weak. Meal times were acrobatic for the nurses, who used trickery to entice Dina to swallow miniature portions of food. Her rib cage imprints showed underneath the thin hospital wear that was given to her upon admittance. Her arctic heart lay beneath iron clad ribs for protection from a world she thought was the cause of her tormented soul. Glazed staring eyes told a tale of a soul stranded in a desert with no hope of rescue. The blackness of her soul was drenched in a horrid lone abyss; invisible creatures of the darkness were her only confidants.

Beelzebub a chameleon-like creature was three creatures in one, displaying different colors to his trio of personalities; Serpent was detected by the red shade of his skin when slithering about to deceive. Across the left shoulder of Beelzebub’s breastplate was his inscription -- Beelzebub rode on the shoulders of pride. His stallion a turquoise hue of blue presenting pride as a Van Gogh – breathtaking, and not replicated, making him summon-able to her fleshy senses. Leviathan the master creature of the three, wore a brass ski-like mask encrusted with chips of diamonds to conceal his identity from his prey. He earned his breastplate from bravery during the capture of his latest hostages. His helmet was made of pure miner’s coal with a snap gold closure under his jaws. His helmet was one of hell’s creations, with a flaming cross-embedded crown. And a single beam light that shone in his forehead allowed him passageway to roam through her thoughts for inspection of a sound mind.

Beelzebub wore death and destruction upon the soles of his feet. Around his neck hung a clay sketch of her tombstone to remind him of the goal. He wore it as a mantle. With arrogance and presumption he thought he would succeed. Her tombstone had been decreed the gold medallion. He carried an exhausted worn jaded silvery sword that hung diagonal from his shoulder blade to his right hip, as if he was Robin Hood. But, he was no Robin Hood. This was the demon that enslaved her mind. His fingernail enamel was coal black, but blood appeared to drip from his elongated slender fingers. He used his sword to pierce through her pure thoughts that only left her with grim imagery from her past. He captured her thoughts with his weapon of seduction. Her thoughts were a reflection of the conception of the assignment.

Beelzebub used Major Depression to steal her joy, which kept her body injected with fatigue. He was the entryway for sadness to creep in. Major Depression’s accomplices were Gloom and Doubt, a two-headed, three-legged beast. Their legs were long and strong. Major Depression could use its legs to run fast as a cheetah through her mind like racing through the jungles of Africa. They were joined together at the hip, and swiftly flew by the wings on their back. Beelzebub had a choice of running, flying, or he could exhilarate his speed by the flapping of his wings as he ran.

Their vision was keen which allowed them to travel by day as well as night. Their voyages and encounters were innumerable: the more souls they infected, the more stripes were earned. It was their duty to dilute the faith of every soul. Major Depression wrapped its tentacles around her thoughts to squeeze out any existence of hope. He had sensitive ears to detect any attempt of a positive image being developed within her mind. He clawed the positive image to shreds with his razor sharp fingernails. He sniffed around any remains with his pointed hairy snoot. He then spurred fiery darts from his mouth to extinguish any positive residue that was detected.

After Major Depression had its grip he saturated her mind with suicidal thoughts to intensify the pressure. Night and day, Major Depression was her oppression. Major Depression’s attempt was to suck her mind into a world of madness, despair, and relentless worry.

Serpent was more cunning than his counterpart Beelzebub, who gaped on her thoughts as prey for his daily meal. Serpent glided around her thoughts, examining them as jewels being examined by the jeweler -- looking for the perfect ones to add to his assortment of goods which he collected from past victims. He used his tools to dismantle her thinking, and form a blueprint more in sync with his own architectural design. His demented design was to kill, steal, and destroy – kill her spirit, steal her mind, and destroy her peace.

It was his idea to create a ruse to subvert her attention to minor details while he proceeded to taint her foundation with cracks of hypocrisy. Serpent placed his stronghold upon her thoughts to bring her mind and body under submission to his commands. His primary device was lying, which was the art of his craft.

© Adrienne F. Manson All rights reserved.

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Comments 4 comments

adrienne2 profile image

adrienne2 4 years ago from Atlanta Author

Hi molometer, This is a manuscript I have been working on for years off and on. I was looking for an agent, and really was encouraged by a few agents that the story is good, but not the genre they were looking for. Thank you for taking the time to leave a comment of your thoughts about part I.


molometer profile image

molometer 4 years ago from Cambridgeshire, England

Hi Adrienne2,

Well written and very disturbing imagery, had me gripped and looking forward to reading the next installment, which I see are already here.

Are you going to publish them as a book?


adrienne2 profile image

adrienne2 4 years ago from Atlanta Author

Hi Hattie, thanks for taking the time to give my hub a gander, and a comment.


HattieMattieMae profile image

HattieMattieMae 4 years ago from Limburg, Netherlands

Very nice hub and very well written! :) Although all those diagnosis labels never truly defines them. :)

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