The Spectre That Stalked My Soul
I
t was early March of the year 2016 when I first “lost” my touch with reality.
My mother was removing pots from the counter below the sink, my younger brother was watching LEGO movies in the living room, and the rest of us were scurrying and moving things from the kitchen before its complete renovation the next morning. The environment in the house was busy, and all it took for me was a short pause to think. I took out my phone to check the time, and took a break to look into the ongoing fixtures taking place in European football. There was not a trace of danger lurking anywhere, no conflicting issues to attend to, and practically nothing to be concerned about except temporarily moving our basic furniture downstairs into the vacant apartment (we were and still are the landlords, but if the kitchen was to be renovated, we just lost half of our daily functions in our main apartment!) I am certain that we all have those moments in which we think random thoughts for no absolute reason but for our own pleasure and curiosity. So this is exactly what I did, an innocent, then 14- year-old freshman student with a strong desire to become a creative writer. “What if this is not real? What if this is a dream? What if this is some sort of simulation and nothing I do will ever matter?” My skin spikes and shudders to this day at this very short, specific, innocent thought that ruptured my mind afterwards.
HORIZONS Spring 2022
By Estefano Torres Senior Staff Writer
A horrifying spectre of immense stature manifested and towered over me. It would loom above, crafting a very gloomy external environment that my very sight interpreted, and phase into me, obscuring my vision and corrupting my emotional state. Everything that I would physically be able to see was affected by my corrupted mindset. Everything seemed to be faint and nebulous . . . everything was just “gray”, if that makes sense. The spectre of derealization initiated alarms that began to ring within me, frantic alarms that would begin to slowly morph and sound like repetitive piano notes which triggered my external panic. In addition, I struggled to breathe, and I began to sweat intensely on the outside as a result. What was the point of life if, in “reality,” nothing existed and this was all an illusion?
took over mine, and I now felt as if a mask of desolate dark obsession took over my own face.”
Over the next few weeks, I sat down in my freshman classes in fear. I looked around the classroom to find my fellow classmates chatting with each other about what dirty joke the other student made, what plans there will be after school to go out, and what topic to choose from the periodic table assignment. Each day passed, and I would quiver as I questioned my own existence and why I was so stupidly sensitive to such a ridiculous thought that no one ever took seriously.
ay
That is when “it” introduced itself.
“Its cold gazing eyes
In other words, I believed I was doomed in every way possible for the remainder of my journey both emotionally and academically due to something called derealization, which is a mental state where your surroundings seem distant and do not seem real.
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The darkened spectre of brawny silhouette and nothing but dimly lit eyes unraveled damp, misty curtains that prevented joy and circled my mind. My train of thought began to derail, and sparks began to ignite the train’s rusted wheels that wobbled but tread to the acceleration of my panicked heart. The tracks that surrounded my mind began to break down slowly and vanish. The cunning spectre compressed my soul with the might of two planets that made my bones tighten and hands numb in the richest of terror.
Finally, after all was done, the spectre stood back, observed the beautifully corrupted scenery of mangled emotion and desire, crossed its arms in satisfaction, and proceeded to do nothing but stalk well into my soul for the time to come. This fear and sorrow began to take over me in the exterior realm we call Earth. The “typical stuff” happened: I was clinging on to my honor roll status, grades began to plummet, visits to school and professional therapists were made, and I would continue to question what I doing was doing, and if anything I did was real. The spectre embraced me closer than ever with this wicked dark energy. “What if none of this is real and it doesn’t matter what I do to recover or get back on track?” I continued to tell myself as I lost my touch with the real world.
