The Thought Plant
By Veemem
Published: October 31, 2007

The worried faces of my Mum and Gran peered down at me, both deathly pale and etched with fear. Cool hands gently mopped my hot and fevered brow; my eyes felt wobbly and full of grit and my laboured breath came in dry rasping gasps as I lay damply uncomfortable in my crib.
Just four years old, not understanding a small sentence spoken in an anxious whisper, yet overheard.
" She'll never mek owd bones Min." Then stored in memory banks deep within the subconscious.
A seed sewn in the darkness reaches slowly but surely towards the light, at last having glimpsed a pin point of comprehension, sends roots of paranoia shooting and spreading through the conscious mind gaining strength as they travel upwards and outwards through the brain, until finally they become a well established, all consuming plant called hypochondria.
How I wish I had never heard that anxious whisper!