Life can be complicated and confusing. You question who is in charge.

You wonder where you are and how you got there. And then you are told that you are forever . . .

 

 

Under My Influence

 

     I sat on the couch, with my feet propped up on the ottoman, in my living room in my home in Diablo Valley. I’d fallen asleep, I think. Everything was blurry. Then I thought I heard a voice. But how could that be? I was alone.

     “What the hell do you want?” I asked, in a not so kind tone.

     “You.” The voice stated.

     “You want me? What for?”

     “For all you’ve done.”

     “For all I’ve done? What does that mean?”

     “You really don’t know, do you?”

     “No. I have absolutely no idea.”

     “Sit back then, and I’ll tell you your story.”

     “You’re going to tell me what?”

     “Your story. In its entirety.”

     My eyes scanned the room. It was empty. Everything was still. Am I going crazy?

     “No, you’re not. Just relax and follow my lead.”

     “Follow your lead? To where?”

     “Back, then forward. Inside, then out.”

     “This isn’t making any sense.”

     “Be quiet. It’ll all come together.”

     I shook my head, thinking I could make this ridiculousness disappear. And I heard nothing more. Good. I’m back to normal, I thought.

     “Normal? That’s a stretch. I don’t believe anybody would characterize you as normal.”

     “This has got to stop. Come out and show yourself to me.”

     ”Why? You know who I am.”

     “No, I don’t.”

     “Think back twenty-six years.”

     “Huh? Why?”

     “Your beginning.”

     “Are you saying that’s when I was born?”

     “Yes, that’s right. And I was there.”

     “You were?”

     “I was in the hospital room. You were a cute little thing. And I wanted you.”

     “But you didn’t get me. My parents took me home and raised me. At least my mother did. She told me my father wasn’t around much. He was too busy.”

     “Took you home, yes, Raised you, not really.”

     “You’re confusing me. I lived with them until I was eighteen. They loved me and cared for me. Didn’t they?”

     “For your body, maybe. For your mind, up to a point. For your soul—not at all.”

     “My, God! What are you saying?”

     “Please don’t bring him into this.”

     “Hell, it’s getting awfully warm in here.”

     “So you do know where you are.”

     “I’m in my home.”

     “No, you’re in my home.”

     “Then please turn down the heat. I can’t handle it. The sweat is running down my face.”

     “You’ll get used to it.”

     “Why would I want to?”

     “To be comfortable in your new home.”

     “My what!” I screamed.

     “Calm down. You’ll wake the dead.”

     “This isn’t real. You’re just messing with my head.”

     “If you mean getting your head straight, then yes.”

     “If what you’re saying is that I have to believe this is real, then you’re crazy.”

     All of a sudden the lights in the room began to blink. I had no idea what was happening or what to do next. And then, I heard a shrill voice.

     “Julian, are you up yet? You’re going to be late for school.”

     “Late for what?”

     “School!”

     “Who are you?” 

     “Are you kidding me? I’m your mother and you’re my sixteen-year-old son.”

     “Sixteen years old. No way. I’m twenty-six and this is my house.”

     “No, you’re not twenty-six. And this is our family home. Have you been taking drugs again? Have you lost your mind?”

     “Drugs? I’ve never taken drugs.”

     “Don’t listen to her, Julian. You belong to me now,” the voice stated.

     “Why are you back? You’re not real. I don’t need you. And I’m only sixteen.”

     “You do need me. I am your forever,” the voice chanted.

     “Not anymore.”

     “Good boy! Stand up to him. He doesn’t control you. I’m your mother, You’ll do as I say, you little twerp.”

     “If you’re my mother, why are you calling me names?”

     “Don’t question me, wimp.”

     “What did I do to deserve this?

     “You made her disappear,” the voice said.

     “Your saying, I left home.”

     “No, I’m saying you did away with her, when you were sixteen. Now she is rotting in a world of eternal damnation. And you made it happen.”

     “I killed her?”

     “Hm. Not exactly.”   

     “What in hell does that mean?”

     “You’ll see. The voice stated, in a very different manner—a way that made me feel safe.”

     “Am I still in . . .”

     “You were in a living hell, but not today. And now, you are forever ‘Under My Influence.’”

     There, standing before me, a statuesque figure, clad in a white suit and bright blue tie, spoke, “Believe in me my child. You’ve been to Hell and back. I am your savior. Please, bow your head in reverence. 

     “Yes, . . . Father,” I murmured.

 

 

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