Short story fiction
It is with great reluctance that I am to recount the moment of my psychological awakening within the lines of this entry. It must be said that I was a greatly troubled soul until the occurrence which has led me to write these words for whoever has the disparaging task of first reading them after they are complete, but the truth must be said for I can not rest peacefully until the deed is done. I had spent majority of my life with no recollection of whence I came or to who bore me or cared for me up until the point that my memory can take me. I had no worldly contacts or frequent visitors save for the small gap at the base of a tall carving on the wall through which a rancid collection of odorous filth could be located that I forced down my throat only for the sake of fighting malnourishment and starvation. I dwelt here for what seemed like eternity, and slipped outside the realm of space and time. Along came a noise virgin to my ears of tapping coming from outside the walls that confined me. My senses alerted me that whatever the obstruction was it gained upon my presence. The noise ceased when it must have come to the side opposite of my den of sorrow and misunderstanding. Then the carving on the wall creaked and swung open as if by some trickery. Then, a figure stepped through the opening and uttered a slur of incoherent babble which I can now translate as this: For your actions you shall live with the infrequent recollections of your crimes. Then the figure held a flat panel of shiny material in front of me that I now recall as a mirror in which I beheld for the first time my reflection. A pale face looked back at me. Its head was stitched on one side with a carving across the forehead that read a cry for humanity. It was at that very moment that I remembered those that I had harmed, and felt the deep remorse for what I had done. Also, I recalled the decision made to remove half of my brain to reduce my mental state for the purpose of making me oblivious to my past until the moment of forced recollection. I faltered and slumped into the corner of my cell as the figure turned and left, slamming the door in front of me. Here in this asylum I will stay, rightfully so, and I shall wake tomorrow with no knowledge of today or any other days past, and slip back into my mental state of oblivion. I only resolve to wonder how long I have been here, and how many todays have already occurred. This is my penance. I know that regardless of my want to remember, I can not, and will have to wait until the next awakening.