Last night Billy worried about not getting enough cigarettes.  There was no indication that the voices had returned.  In the morning Billy was agitated, yelling and screaming at the voices.  At five in the morning Billy found an old razor in the bathroom.  He had superficial cuts on his chest and abdomen.  Billy vowed he would cut out all those tattoos his late mother always nagged him about.  He would talk to his dead mother, his voice breaking, “I will cut the tattoos out.  Please stop telling me I am a bad son.”  Billy never meant to hurt anyone or to disobey his mother.  He thought his mother would never know he got tattoos since he would not take his shirt off in her presence.

Yet his mother knew about the tattoos.  From beyond the grave she would admonish Billy.   She did not like to have her name tattooed on her son’s chest.  Billy’s mother thought that was a sick thing to do.  She felt it was inappropriate.  In the morning Billy was found on the bathroom floor.  He fainted.  Billy could never stand the sight of blood.

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