Well, a few weeks ago Deg told me he wanted to read a story I've written. So here is part of one, I guess you could call it the first chapter of a much longer story I've been writing. Any criticism (Yes, I accept destructive criticism so feel free to tell me I fucking suck) would be appreciated. I hope you three or four people who read it enjoy it.
I woke up in my room as the lights were slowly brightening. Every morning I have to look around to get my bearings, I don’t know why really, but I do. To my left was a padded, white wall, same to my right, behind me, below me, and in front of me is a padded wall with a door in the center and a small window. Also in the corner of that wall was the camera that watched everything I did, which wasn’t a whole lot. The ceiling is the only place in my room that isn’t padded. The lights are almost all the way on now and I can make out the slatted hole in the ceiling where the warm air comes from. They’d be coming for me soon.
“Are you awake, Chuck?” came a voice from the walls.
“No, I’m just sitting here with my eyes open.”
“Do you really have to answer like that every morning?”
“Do you really have to ask like that every morning you Idiot?”
“Well I can see you’re in a good mood today, Chuck.”
“Of course I am; I’m always in a good mood.”
“Well get up and get dressed, it’s almost time for breakfast.”
“Can’t I just go to breakfast naked? It’s not like anyone would really care.”
“I would care, Chuck,” the voice said sternly, “Now get dressed or you won’t get any breakfast.”
“Yea, yea, fuck off, I’ll get dressed.”
“Chuck I’ve told you a million times not to use that language, I want you to stop.”
“And how many times have I kept using ‘that’ language? I’m not going to stop.”
“…Just get dressed.”
I stood up and put on my pajamas that were lying on the floor next to me. They are white, like everything else in this place, and usually they don’t smell very good, but they’re the only clothes they let me have so I’m stuck. It only took a few seconds to put them on, but as soon as I finished the door to my room opened and two Idiots walked in. The Idiots are big dudes, and they always have a dumb-ass expression on their face. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them smile, and they always only do what they’re told to do by the Docs. I don’t think they even have brains and can’t think on their own which is why I call them the Idiots. Anytime I left my room I had to have two Idiots with me all the time.
“It’s about fucking time you two got here, I gotta piss.” I told them as I marched toward the door. They grabbed my arms firmly and led me out of my room into the hall. The halls aren’t padded, but they’re still white, and they’re loaded with cameras. The Idiots took me to the bathroom and put me into a stall. I shut the door and sat down to do my business. I’ve learned to never look up in the bathrooms. Of all the cameras I’ve ever seen the bathroom cameras are the ones I hate the most. When you look up at them they stare right back at you, watching everything you do. I tried standing on the toilet once to see if I could rip one out. I jumped up to grab it and missed, but the worst part was slipping on the toilet seat as I fell back down and landing on the floor with a bloody nose. I looked up to see the camera after it happened and I could hear the damn thing laughing at me as the Idiots hauled me out of the bathroom and to the Doc who fixed bruises. Ever since that happened I haven’t looked up at the camera, because I still hear it laughing.
I finished and flushed and the Idiots led me to the sink where I washed my hands. The water was never warm and it always made my hands cold. I used to try not washing them after I had finished because I’d seen an Idiot not wash his hands once, but that time they took me back to my room and made me miss lunch. My hands were cold when we made it to the cafeteria where the patients, Idiots, Docs, and some dudes I didn’t know were sitting down to eat. I was usually one of the last people here and the food was almost always cold. I shrugged off the Idiots and walked to the counter to get my food.
“Hello there Chuck,” said the wrinkly girl-thing behind the glass, “How are you this morning?”
“As good as ever, what are we eating today?”
“Your favorite, pancakes and sausage.”
“Fucking awesome!” I yelled. I didn’t know they were my favorite, but it was breakfast and I was hungry, and when I’m hungry whatever food I can get my hands on is the best shit in the world.
“Chuck! Watch your language!” The wrinkly girl-thing said.
“I can’t watch what I can’t see dammit!” was my response and the Idiots came and took hold of my arms and hauled me to a table.
“Wait a damn minute, I didn’t get any orange juice you ‘tards!” I screamed, I wasn’t going to eat without my O.J. One of the Idiots walked over and grabbed it for me and then they both led me to a table where the set me down between themselves and I tore into my food. The Idiots just sat watching me like they wanted some.
“You want some of this?” I asked the one on my right as I held up a sausage with my spork.
“No t’anks.” He sniffled.
“Too bad dude, this is some good shit.”
I finished eating my food and looked at the clock. The little arrow was on the nine and the big arrow was almost to the three, which meant that some of the other patients would be showing up. And there they are, right on cue.
First to come in was Karl. Karl was my favorite of all the other patients, he always managed to piss off the Bishop, another patient, and my morning entertainment would ensue. Karl hardly made it through the door before he started going off.
“Hear me everyone,” he began, “this place is slowly spiraling downward to destruction because of the capitalist pigs that hold the power! Let us join together and overthrow this foul government and create a state where all people are equal and have a voice!”
Most of the patients didn’t really pay any attention to Karl. If he was lucky some of them would mumble and some others would get up and start screaming something in Jibberish or some other language like it that no one could understand. But Karl never seemed to notice this and always went on ranting.
Next through the door came Kitty-Man. He came running through the door on all fours and went right up to the counter where he stood up on his legs and meowed at the wrinkly girl-thing on the other side.
“Well good morning to you too,” she said cheerily and handed him his breakfast, “Don’t forget your milk now.”
He didn’t, Kitty never forgot his milk. He always took three of the little milk cartons and came running over to my table; he always sat across from me. Once he was situated he opened one of his milk cartons and poured it all over his pancakes and sausage. The same thing happened to the second milk carton, but he saved the third. He didn’t use a spork, he just dove in face-first and started eating.
“Good breakfast eh, Kitty?” I asked.
“Mrroooow!” he said as he looked up with milk dripping off his face.
The last to come in is always the Bishop who is the only other one who has to have Idiots with him everywhere he went. But he only had one leading him around; I was the only one who had two. I asked my Doc why I was the only one with two Idiots one day and he said, “Because you’re dangerous, to yourself as well as everyone around you.” He’s right. I’d cut my own fucking arm off, if I had the chance, just to see what it felt like.
Anyway, the Bishop always walked around with his head slightly tilted upward. I don’t know why really, all I know is you could always see the boogers in his nose. His shoulders were always straight and erect like someone had shoved something up his ass – not that I would know. But the most important feature of the Bishop was the monstrous black book he always carried under his right arm. I saw the cover once one day when the Bishop tried to exorcise me of my demons. Just before he whacked me with it I managed to glimpse the words “The Holy Bible.” I don’t know what that shit means, but I had a huge fucking headache after he hit me with it. Another time, they took the Bishop’s book away from him, and that was the only time I ever saw the Bishop break down. He cried and screamed and kicked and yelled and all sorts of bullshit. They eventually gave it back to him and he sat hugging it and rocking back and forth whispering something. I’m not sure he even knows what is in his book though because I’ve never seen him open it, but I have seen him try to hit people with it quite a few times.
It didn’t take Karl long to notice the Bishop and vice versa because they hated each other.
“And your religions!” Karl yelled as he was always the first to start the fight that happened every morning. “They only serve the purpose of holding us back! We should depend on ourselves, not the clergy!”
“You treacherous heathen!” The bishop answered, “You shall burn in Hell for all eternity with these blasphemous remarks. God is the only way for salvation and whatever system is in place must be the right one because it only came into power through God’s will and only through him will anything change, not through your tirades!
I started to laugh. This was my favorite part of every morning and it never failed to happen. Usually the conversations were pretty much the same, no real arguments or anything, just yelling at each other. But it was fun to watch and I was the most enthusiastic about it. Ever since the Bishop hit me, though, I’ve always cheered for Karl.
“Yea, you tell him Karl! Tell him where he can stick that book!” I cheered as I stood up on my chair. The Idiots promptly grabbed me and sat me back down but my cheering was all Karl needed.
“You see you foolish priest! The people are on my side, not yours, go back to your church and pray for your own soul!”
“I will not go to pray for anyone’s soul but my own anyway! No one here is deserving of prayers and even if I were they would do you no good, you’ll all burn anyway!”
I laughed some more. Across from me, Kitty had finished his food and was licking his hands and then rubbing them against his head. He still hadn’t drank that third carton of milk, so before he or my Idiot escort could do anything I snatched it and chucked it at the Bishop. I’m a fucking pro, I nailed him right in the face. The carton blew open and before the bishop knew what had happened his face was covered with milk. The Idiots grabbed me, but I didn’t care.
“Idol worshipper!” the Bishop roared as he realized who threw the milk. “You shall be damned to eternal suffering for your wicked ways! I shall strike thee down for thy sins against God!”
His Idiot grabbed him as he began to rush me and was holding him around the waist. But every time the Bishop had his mind set on hitting someone or something with his book he seemed to turn into Super Bishop and his Idiot wasn’t enough to hold him. One of mine ran over to the wall and hit a button and more Idiots were on the scene within thirty seconds to get control of the Bishop. Karl was still ranting, Kitty was still oblivious to everything and was licking his stomach, and the other patients were now in an uproar. Some were rocking back and forth, others were standing up and screaming at the top of their lungs, and others were mumbling and hitting their tables, and a few of them started throwing their food around. It was good times, but I was waiting quietly like a good patient to make my next move.
After a couple of minutes of the Idiots trying to get control of the Bishop the Docs came in. Four of them went around running around to try and calm the other patients while two of them tried to help the Idiots handle the Bishop. Doc Mark, my Doc, was one of them, and he turned to my Idiots and yelled, “Get Chuck out of here!” They grabbed my arms and hauled me off, but to get out we would have to pass pretty close to the Bishop and the mass of Idiots. I had a huge grin on my face as I let the Idiots lead me toward the door, but as soon as we got close enough to the Bishop I wrenched my arms free and turned and kicked. Somehow my foot found its way through the legs of the Idiots and connected with the Bishop’s crotch. He whimpered as he collapsed on the floor and then I had four Idiots all over me hauling me to the door as Doc Mark swore and yelled at me. I was laughing as they picked me up and hauled me to Doc Mark’s office where they threw me onto the couch. I lay there smiling on my successful morning. The big hand hadn’t even made it to the six and the little hand was still on the nine on the Doc’s clock. I still had the whole fucking day ahead of me for more fun.
Or so I thought.