Please note that this is the most recent chapter in the novel, The Marsh.
'Shauny,' a soft feminine voice whispered. 'Shauny, it's time to wake up now.' It was the voice of his mother, the same voice that had encouraged him to sleep, and shushed his tears. 'Shh, little Shauny, my precious boy. Everything is going to be alright now.'
But she had died five years ago. Blood had swirled in the bath water around her naked body, like crimson tendrils that had come to steal her away from him. Her vacant brown eyes stared into his. The mouth that had uttered such wonderful words to him, that had helped him win against his nightmares, slowly opened. A blood-soaked snake twisted from between those lips and dropped between her pale breasts, splashing into the water. It danced through the water towards him, curling left and right, its head held above the water, its eyes fixed on him. As it lunged, fangs lashing out at him, he screamed and woke up.
He shot upright, lost his balance and fell to the tiled floor. His head was heavy and pain drummed into his skull with the rhythm of his pulse. Concussion spun the room about him and the light above stabbed harder at the tenderness of his brain.
Something was wrong. He was familiar with the feeling of losing time, that disorientation and fear of what he may have done. This was different. Something was missing. Quickly, he realised what it was. That warm embrace that had let him sleep all these years was gone. He was forced to live again, to feel pain and suffering all over again - to hear that damned choir of voices in his head... to sit in that God forsaken chair again.
Where had that comforting person who had soothed his hurts and told him he was not a freak gone? The one that had said: 'The world just does not understand you, Shaun. I do. I can stop your pain. Come, come closer, my boy, so that I may look into those beautiful brown eyes of yours.'
Shaun had slept for a long time, longer than anyone ever had. He could remember the bed that had been presented to him. Thick black bed posts supported a sumptuous mattress and duvet. He had laid there, his mind lost in the folds of those wonderful sheets, in complete comfort and solitude. 'Rest,' the man had said, 'I will deal with everything else.'
Young Shaun looked about him, he was in a cell. He knew the smell, the usual single bunk and the tiny barred window near the ceiling. A toilet stood in the corner, a single roll of toilet paper sat on the seat. The walls were sanitary, plain, all but for a patch above his bunk. A string of red symbols had been painted across the wall in a perfect line. They were unlike anything he had seen before and to look at them twisted his stomach and made the pulsing pain only worse. As he looked closer at the alien runes he realised that they were drawn with blood, his blood. Shaun's left wrist had been badly scratched and fresh blood still glistened in the cuts. The nails of his right hands were black with dried blood. Oh god, he thought, it's all started again.
He scrambled across the floor and grabbed the toilet roll. He's left me, I can't do this again. 'I wont!' He studied the white paper and began to tear huge pieces off and shoved them into the back of his throat. He gagged straight away. His mouth dried instantly, but it didn't stop him. He was frantic, tearing at the roll and slamming the pieces into his mouth, shredding his lips, dribbling blood down his front. Not again.
Suddenly, he wretched and spluttered. His body jerked and writhed as it began to fight. Whether his mind wanted it or not, his body wasn't giving in so easily. His face became purple, veins popped out of his forehead and his eyes were blood shot. The room spun and darkened. He slumped to the floor, the toilet roll falling into the bowl, and there he slowly began to fade away; his legs, now the only thing that twitched.
From the hallway, the guard heard the commotion and burst into the room. He fell to his knees, sliding some of the way to Shaun's side. He took the young man by the neck and shoved his hand into his mouth, using two fingers he scooped the paper out of his throat.
Shaun gasped and wretched at the air before falling unconscious.
'Frank! Frank! For fuck sake, get in here!' said the guard.
Another guard sped down the hall and ran into the room. 'What the-' he began.
'Just get the bloody nurse will you!' As Frank sped back down the hallway calling for the nurse, the guard looked up at the runes on the wall and back down at the man in his lap. 'Haven't you been busy,' he said.
Shaun slept that night on suicide watch. 'Watch that fucker like a hawk,' Gin had said on the phone with the guard. 'I don't even want him taking a piss without your say so. He's going to be in prison for a long time. I'm going to make sure of it.'
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