Son of the Devil

15^th Aug, 1991, Thursday

Was a Hectic day today… considering this small town and my profession.

Checked 3 dogs…one with an upset stomach other with a broken leg… and the third one with a nasty wound on its head….poor bastard was whining and bleeding profusely, stitched him and sent him on his way with his master- a little boy of around 13.

I sat in my clinic alone till late even though I knew it was pointless expecting any patients this late….read few old books…

Passing time is difficult these days…

I don’t know if I would continue this diary writing habit or not…read in a magazine that it will help to calm my nerves…  let’s hope that’s right

Otherwise this dear Diary thing…ain’t worth a shit…

20^th Aug, 1991, Tuesday

Hypocrites - that’s what these church produces in masses…or any other religion for that matter…people blinded by faith; licking boots of some old man reading shit from a dusty old book…

I am drunk and I am angry…. Heard the news quite late…

Will’s mother passed away…

It’s hard to say when…poor old woman’s corpse was rotting when they found her… maybe it was the stink that bought them to her doors…

I don’t socialize much but I knew her quite well…everyone in the town knew her…

A proper God fearing Christian woman… she never missed even a single Sunday…  

And what good did it do to her…abandoned by her husband, then son and then the society… the church doesn’t gives a fuck.

Aye… there was a fancy funeral…fancy words…and fake tears…but that’s what they are…fake people and fake tears…

I didn’t bother to attend the funeral…although went to visit her grave to pay my respects…afterwards….

Maybe I am depressed…also I am drinking too much these days…

It helps me in my loneliness…

Mary still isn’t talking to me…she’s resting in her room now…

This diary is all I have got now… I will try to write often…

21 Aug, 1991, Wednesday

Had a great start today….woke up early…completed all chores…even went for a jog…. Haven’t even touched alcohol…

I vowed to myself to make things better…

Clinic was fine… Prescribed few medicines for a pet cat which belonged to a little girl, even gave her a candy…her innocent smile lifted up my spirits.

I also bought Jasmine flowers for Mary…her favourite…

Well that didn’t quite work out well….got in a huge fight with her when I tried giving her the flowers….

But I won’t write about any of that instead I will stay in my “Be positive” attitude and write about the good things….

I know these things take time….

I love Mary, and will give her all the time that she needs….

Three years have been passed since I first met her. Ours was a very ordinary love story.

She was a sweet simple small town girl with a sick dog and I was a young Vet in the initial days of my practise…

We instantly took a liking for each other….I still don’t know when exactly did I fell in love with her…everything happened so fast...it was perfect...only after 6 months I was on my knees proposing her…

I don’t know how things got so bad… what happened to her…

All I know is that I love her with all of my heart…and will do anything to make my wife happy….this storm will pass…

It feels weird to write these words in this old dusty book but it sure takes away my emotional baggage….

MARY I LOVE YOU….

24^th Aug, 1991, Saturday

Things are bad…

Maybe not the worst but still pretty bad… the pile of bills just keep getting bigger… I wasn’t very financially well to begin with in the first place…

And to add to that not a single patient today…

Got few calls from the bank….went to visit the fuckers to ask for some extension on my payment… it’s not that vets make great money.

Found a poor homeless guy moaning in pain on the road while returning… fractured leg…was a hit and run case…few people gathered to sympathize but none of them bothered to help… gave him a lift to the nearest hospital…

The poor bastard didn’t had any money….so I ended up paying for his bills…

Sometimes I think I am Crazy…shouldn’t have helped him…nobody cares…why should I give a fuck…already have enough on my plate.

Saw my face in the mirror today after a long time…

Grey hair are clearly visible now on my head and so are the wrinkles….my eyes were bloodshot due to constant drinking of gin and sleeplessness. Gosh I am under weather…

The migraines and nightmares aren’t helping either

Both have increased significantly in duration as well as intensity….Damn I am fucked up…

I have to find a way to make more money…. It would have been quite manageable when Mary had a job but in her condition obviously she can’t support now…

I have to take care of her…she’s my family…

I will do a part time job, nightshifts, overtime anything to secure my family’s future…. But after the delivery

Right now she needs me…even though she doesn’t approve of me…

Till then I have to cut down expenses…these stupid Gin bottles are becoming an addiction…

AND STOP HELPING RANDOM PEOPLE YOU FUCKING HUMANITARIAN…!!

25th Aug, 1991, Sunday

Had a disturbing night yesterday…didn’t get enough sleep…

Was awoken repeatedly by disturbing nightmares…couldn’t remember much but only the one in which Mary was divorcing me…just shudder to think about it…

The following day just fuelled them…

Today I firmly tried talking to Mary…to sort the situation…to at least communicate with each other….

She just lost it…had an outburst…

I tried talking sense to her, reasoning with her... but all in vain…

The tantrum she threw…screaming, crying…using cuss words…even got violent at one point when she threw a frying pan at me…

So now to add to my migraines I have two stitches on my forehead.

So here I sit…in my study…scribbling in an old diary…

While my wife still remains locked up in her room…I can still hear occasional sobs though the walls.

I can literally feel the negativity in my house now…

My emotions are also rogue nowadays…at times I feel outraged at Mary, don’t she know me at all…don’t she know how much I love her…care about her…

Other times I just feel utter helplessness.

I feel our marriage is failing…like someone or something is breaking us apart.

…don’t want to lose her…I have nobody in this world except her.

No wonder the nightmares.

31st Aug, 1991, Saturday

Things are quiet from past few days…if not better.

Mary is now on sleeping pills…she has gone quiet.

I on the other hand am constantly sleep deprived. But quite well for now.

The other day, I visited the park…had quite a time watching the kids playing, even pushed the swing for a few of them. It almost feels otherworldly to see kids with their mothers and fathers…laughing smiling playing….I feel envious.

Past couple of days were good business wise. Attended quite a handful of patients. I had to sell few of my old possessions...books, my old guitar. Nevertheless I paid the amount due to the bank.

While going through the old books in the attic I found an old family photograph of me and my father.

Although I consider myself a cold and calculating…son of a bitch, hardly emotional but today I just broke down crying with the photograph in my hand.

Hours went by as I sat and sobbed like a kid alone in the attic…vaguely remembering my childhood…

Our little home, my religious mother, her smile…the smell of her baked pancakes…My father…an honest and hardworking wood cutter…our poverty…my selling of newspapers…the days which we spent together…grew together…the good…the bad…

I want a happy family for myself…at least a normal one, is it too much to ask for?

Maybe the lack of social contact, depression and loneliness is having a toll on me.

I have to keep a grip on myself…for Mary…

4th Sept, 1991, Wednesday

I have been ill from the last three days…was not able to go to the clinic.

The migraines are bad… the nightmares worse…

Last night I dreamt that Mary was running away from me…I was chasing after her…urging her to come back to me…she seemed afraid, desperate to get away from me…and then before I could save her a truck hit her…it was horrible…too profound…I woke up drenched  in sweat…

I had a fever today….104 temperature… it took all my will power to just get up and cook for Mary and feed her…wash her clothes… But she needs to eat properly in her condition.

 Maybe it was my imagination but I noticed the same fear in her eyes…

I don’t believe in god or something but it would have been better if I knew some higher power is watching over me…

 I need rest…

5th September, 1991, Thursday

Was feeling a little better today... went and opened the clinic.

Although not a single patient came… went through some old books.

Made tea for myself on the stove…and even had a nap in the clinic. It was refreshing, I slept a dreamless sleep after a long time.

Made my way to home in the evening, nothing interesting happened today.

Except maybe for a pigeon which I found lying on the side of the road on my way home.

It was unable to fly…I brought it home to examine. Poor creature had a fractured wing.

I bandaged the poor thing and kept it in my garden for him to recover, even gave him few bread crumbs and water.

I am going off to sleep…

8th Sept, 1991, Sunday

I am never going off to sleep again…

I know and I accept that I am not living in humane conditions and I am currently under a lot of stress physically, mentally as well as emotionally yet these night mares are not justifiable.

They are repeatedly about Mary now…

I am constantly seeing her room in my dreams… there is also this shadowy figure…human like…which is lurking around her. She seems to be terrified of it, it is harassing her or torturing her in some way… though I can’t tell how…

Last night I saw that I walked into her room to find her hanging from the ceiling fan…her neck broken…eyes bulged out…blank but staring at me…most horrible was her smile….

My very soul shuddered. These night mares are now in quite a detail.

It seems like whenever I drift off to sleep some horror movie starts in my head….

Am I losing my mind…?

Ran into the local church priest the other day in my neighbourhood.

Although I tried to avoid him after pleasantries but he seemed keen on chatting. Told me that I looked like hell… inquired about Mary.

After formalities, he uneasily mentioned that he senses some evil presence around my house, something deeply negative.

Gave me a copy of Holy Bible and his blessings.

Although I am a non-believer and a man of logic…

I admit I am quite afraid now…

10th Sept, 1991, Tuesday

My wife Mary is in her eighth month of pregnancy. She suffered from a severe complication that required emergency surgery…

When she woke up I told her the surgery had been successful, her reaction scared me more than I’ve ever been scared before in my life.

She didn’t say anything, she just slowly reached down to her belly. Her eyes widened for a moment, and then she began to laugh. It was deep, humourless cackle; the kind of laugh that comes from someone who’s cried for so long that they can’t anymore, and so they laugh in spite and mockery of their pain.

I had to repress a shudder as I asked her what was wrong, but she ignored me.

Instead of answering me she began to scream; her whole body shaking as she thrashed and wailed; tearing out tufts of her hair and throwing them on the ground.

I kept asking her what wrong but she wouldn’t answer.

All of a sudden she stopped, and she started laughing again and raised a hand up high. She paused for a moment …our eyes locked…and she brought her hand down with all her strength, plunging her long fingernails into her stomach.

She was cackling like a madwoman, tearing at her stomach as if she was trying to rip it open.

I grabbed hold of her wrists and managed to wrestle them down next to her sides. I had to use the restraints on the rails of the bed. Once I did her whole body suddenly went limp…as if she was too weak to move.

I sat down beside her bed; I could hear my voice shaking as I tried desperately to calm her down.

“It’s all right, honey. It was just a small complication after all. Soon we’ll have a beautiful baby boy. Our son. It’ll all be worth it then.”

She slowly turned her head towards me. Her eyes were dead, devoid of humanity. She began whispering, her head lolling limply around on her shoulders. I leaned in close to hear what she was saying. It was just one sentence, repeated over and over.

“GET IT OUT OF ME…”

15th Sept, 1991, Sunday

She hasn't spoken to me since past five days.

Sometimes she lay there totally limp and motionless and other times she would scream and pull at her restraints until her wrists bled.

I tried calming her down, telling her that this was a good thing…

I brought her baby clothes and favourite foods…

But nothing I do seems to reach her…

17th Sept, 1991, Tuesday

She went into contractions…

As soon as the baby came out, it was clear that something had gone horribly wrong.

The stench was horrible…a sick, nauseatingly sweet smell…

But it was nothing compared to the baby itself…if you could even call it that.

Its head was overly large, its eyes bulging and bloodshot, and the skin was black and ragged…

Slouching off in my hands when I touched it…

18th Sept, 1991, Wednesday

It was a close call, but Mary survived the childbirth…even though my son did not.

She at least seems to be doing better now that the pregnancy is over…

Me…I’m doing worse…

I just keep going over everything horrible that has happened… in my head.

It tore my heart out when she gave birth to my stillborn son third time in a row. 
It was even worse when I had to force-feed her those pills so that I could perform the surgery to put the dead baby back into her stomach and sew it shut...!!

What we both need now is time. Time is a great healer. 

Maybe this time She will deliver the baby alive. We will finally become parents.
I know she would be great mom. And we will live happily ever after !!