Remembrance

The therapist wasn’t much help.

They told me that, as I was not currently a British citizen, I was not entitled to free healthcare. In other words, they mean that because I’m foreign or because they don’t like the look of me, they will make me pay. Now I think I really will go insane.

I moved away from here in England two years ago, and stayed with my sister who lives in Australia for one year. Apparently now I don’t qualify as a British citizen.

 I don’t think they have the right to do that but I’ll look into it.

I can do without the therapist; I’ve been progressing on my own.

I’ve been remembering things. Terrible things. Things from many years ago.

Impossible things, things that shouldn’t have happened… yet they did.

I remember being kidnapped. I was pulled from the street, a cloth round my face, soaked in some chemical. I passed out quickly. The raid was fast and efficient.

I remember being forced to comply. I remember being tortured, and not giving in. I remember being tortured, and giving in.

I remember a huge glass tank. I remember thick liquid, holding me there floating, yet I could breathe.

I remember the electricity – every time I moved, the agony would start again.

I remember losing consciousness, time and time and time and time and time again.

After time my mind got the message. I could not move even an inch. I was prevented by my own subconscious.  

I remember the voice. Talking to me. Commanding me.

The worst thing is, I don’t remember what they said.

I remember a rhythm, a poem? It dug deep into my mind, embedded itself, but I do not remember it.

I do not remember it.