Stories & More

My Sin Will Follow Me

I am David, I'm an Israeli immigrant who came to America when I was Seven with my father, Adam. My mother, Sarai, is dead, she died when I was born. I blame myself.

It all started when I was in high school. I met this immigrant Saudi girl, Sara, whom I liked, but I thought she hated me. Saudi Arabians tend to be Muslim, & I feared she may hate me for my faith. I wasn't willing to change my religion, and my family would not have approved. I just chose to keep it a crush. Sara was 16 and I was 14, too young, anyway.

I also worried that her family would kill Sara as a form of honor killing. I didn't want to cause her death because I still thought of myself as the cause of my mother's death.

I loved Sara so much that I had to let her go in my mind. When I got older, I met Sara again.

Sara was 26 & I was 24. I had graduated from college already & so had she. I still liked her a little, but I was afraid she was forced into an arranged marriage, which would ruin any & all chances of any romance.

Sara was luckily not married & perfectly single, so I asked her about herself. I wanted to know more about Sara. Sara left the Muslim religion at 23, stopped wearing her hijab, and I think became a Christian, which got her ex-communicated from her family which proved to me that dating her in high school would have ruined her life.

Sara told me that "My family was Muslim, so they did not want me to spread my religion to my siblings and disowned me."

I was shocked, but didn't say anything because I didn't want to make her hate me for insulting her family because I still wanted to date her.

I ended up getting the girl because Sara was chill with Jews.

It was amazing! Until… Um… Well, until I ended up getting schizophrenia.

When I married her, I saw this man in my room. We were on our honeymoon and had consummated the marriage… Um…

I bolted upright in bed, heart pounding like a jackhammer. 

There was a man, pitch-black, standing at the foot of our bed. Panic grips me as my breath quickens. I whisper, "Sara, can't you see him?" Sara mumbles, still half-asleep. I try to wake Sara, but she doesn't see what I see. The stranger's dark form looms ominously, his presence chilling. "David, there's no one there," Sara says, her voice tinged with concern; But he's real to me, this specter my mind conjures. The room sways with his silent laughter, taunting me. Schizophrenia's grip on my reality is relentless.

I freaked out and dialed 911, to my new wife's dismay. Clasping my head with my hands, I closed my eyes, covered my ears, and began praying profusely.

I think I heard God tell me to "Calm down, it isn't real." I wanted to believe it was really him, but I wasn’t sure if it was that man trying to convince me he wasn’t real so he could attack me in my sleep…

My thoughts are racing, my heart's a runaway train. The room is spinning, and I can't escape the pitch-black specter that taunts me. Panic surges through my veins, each breath a struggle. I clench my fists, sweat beads forming on my brow. Sara's voice is distant, her concern just a whisper in the chaos of my mind. I can't shake the fear, the sense of impending doom. The world feels like it's collapsing, and I'm trapped within my own torment. Schizophrenia's grip is unrelenting, and I'm lost in this nightmarish spiral of delusion and despair.

The police arrived, and I found myself huddled in the corner of our honeymoon suite, pointing them toward the figure. One of the officers, a heavyset man with a soft-spoken Southern drawl, looked at me and asked, "Are you all right, sir?" His voice carried a gentle, nonchalant tone, lacking the usual stern professionalism, as though he were talking to a child.

My fists covered my ears, clenching in horror. I clutched my ears with my fists, aghast, shaking my head in frantic denial. Desperation surged through me as I shielded my eyes, hoping to banish the eerie, pitch-black intruder from my vision.

The police spoke to Sara who just told them, "I don't know what's going on wit him…"

The flashing lights, the sound of sirens, and the firm grip of the police officers overwhelmed me. I couldn't escape the nightmare that had seized my mind. They led me out of our honeymoon suite, my body trembling with fear and confusion. Sara's face was etched with worry, her voice assuring me "It's going to be okay, David!" As the police escorted me to the waiting police car.

The ride to the hospital was a blur of erratic thoughts and emotions. I clung to the fleeting fragments of reality, struggling to make sense of it all. The officers spoke in hushed tones, their concern palpable. The world outside the window seemed alien, and I was trapped in a chaotic, unpredictable mental storm.

2 years later, I am on medicine for Schizophrenia. Sara is still with me, working through our issues. We are a very happy couple, well… We’re a functioning couple.

I don’t truly know if she’s happy or not.

To Be Continued…