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Wednesday, June 6, 2012

It Happened On A Tuesday-Pt. 1.0

Here is my new short story! Let me know what you think of it. If I get enough people to appreciate it I will continue it.

As I close my eyes I am offered images and movements in preparation for a relaxing darkness. Within the darkness, words are written. A sentence follows; It Happened On A Tuesday. Those simple five words raised anger within my stomach and I felt a crawling underneath skin of worms and various insects. I was sick; that was a solid fact and because of that I am institutionalized, living in my own room of soft materials and a locked door at all times.

When I opened up my eyes from my slumber I looked around to see myself in the oddest of places. I was in fact no longer in my room but in the morgue that was in my complexes basement. This is where people go when they die and I knew for a fact that I was not dead. Maybe I was still asleep but I pinched myself to wake me up and nothing happened other than a sharp pain in my arm. 

Looking around the room, I was on a gurney that was in the middle of the room with all of the cryogenic coffins around me. This place was built to look like some forensics laboratory but it was anything but. So many of my friends have been placed here after there passing and I cannot recall a single funeral for them, like they died before anyone even knew it and kept like some great secret.
Maybe I was dead?

I knew that couldn't be true either because I could feel the environment around me, see everything within the room and I could smell some damp odor of growing mold. I could hear and taste everything just fine but nothing reacted to those senses but my ability to speak is greatly reduced to that of an average person. You see, I have the inability to speak or as many people call it 'mute' I am still able to make sounds with my throat and give out an occasional grunt or yell but no words could be formed out of my tongue.

I haven't always been like this, it was only a few years ago that I could talk to my peers but since the events that occurred to me those many years ago, my body went into shock and my voice was taken from me. My lack of speech had no impact on my intelligence however, I could still read and write with such a professionalism that many call me a genius but with me not being able to speak my mind now and various mental diseases, many call me a threat to society. I do not see this within myself because I in fact believe that everything I go through is real and I am yet to prove it to people but everyone disagrees. One day I will prove myself right through all this time and people would finally understand me but till then I am only classified to be insane and in a morgue.

This room I was in would prove a shocker to anyone else to step foot in it but for me, I somehow feel responsible. Bloody handprints and various smears littered all of the pieces of stainless steel and ceramic tiles that were within the room but even worse, the blood was all over me too. Looking down to my body I was completely naked and covered in blood and as I looked to my left side there was a massive cut from my armpit down to my waist.

Looking closely to it I could tell that it was taken care of and had been sewn shut with a needle and thread—I knew this because the needle was still attached to the thread at the bottom of the cut still hanging out of my own flesh. I didn't know if myself or anyone else did this but I knew that the proper pain relievers were in affect because I didn't feel a single thing coming from out of the cut.

I got up off the gurney stumbling onto my feet hoping that the questions I had in my head could be answered but they weren't going to be for as long as I waited in this room. Looking around I could see a basket of various patients’ clothes; I wasn't picky so I picked up a shirt and pants to cover up all of the blood on me and to conceal my cut. If this was all real, I had to make sure nobody has seen what has happened and when they do, they don't think it was my doing.

I began to walk towards the main doors, which were a set of French doors with thick glass, and solid wood doors. The lock was on the other side and there was no lock on my side so when I twisted the handle and it didn't budge, my heart dropped to the floor and a twisting went through my gut. I was locked inside of this room with many of my dead friends and my thoughts that could very well kill me but before I knew it, lights turned on outside of the room and everything set up like a prologue to a movie.

The lights that were on in the room I was standing in turned off and the only light I could see was from outside of the room and peering through the glass on the doors. The light was too bright on the other end so I could only make out silhouettes but two people were walking alongside together as one walks in front of the other to stop directly in front of the door, I could only suppose they were doctors within the building, one of them spoke.

'What do you make out of patient 1421667?'

'1667?' The other doctor asked 'There isn't too much to tell because of the fact that 1667 is a mute. There’s no telling on the condition that is within 1667's brain because any examination or counseling towards 1667 is inefficient and ineffective due to 1667's stubbornness. I know 1667 is your patient but there is no helping 1667. I can see 1667 living here for a long time, maybe till death but if 1667 keeps acting out with severe behaviors, there’s no helping anything because the committee will take action before we could explain ourselves. If you want to keep 1421667, you have to make your move fast and find a way to communicate or to understand 1667. I think its a lost cause now but if you still believe in 1667, then act.' The other doctor nodded and took a couple steps away to turn back to the other.

'What if I use research method number sixty four?'

'That’s a long and dangerous stretch but if you are able to get the committee to accept that action, then you have made more time but if it doesn't work, well I hope you have another career option.'

'I know but I have been looking through Ritchford's papers and I think it would really benefit 1667.'

'Then do it if you are really confident about it but remember, yours and 1667's life is on the line.' The two men walked away and all I could wonder was what I could do to benefit my future and preserve my life. These behaviors they say I have are in fact what they say but I act out on the preservation on my own life. I may be seeing things but they do actual physical damage to me and everything around me, no one yet has seen these so called 'hallucinations' but I know they are more than just that. 

I didn't have another second to myself. Before I knew it, the lights from the other side of the door dimmed and then shut off as well as leaving everything silent. I was now in complete darkness and those itches—that I always seem to get under my skin—returned to crawl in my arms and legs. This could very well just turn me insane slowly, all the way up to my last dying gasp for air. A crash sounded from behind me and I turned to it immediately. It was on the other side of the room but it was a sound of breaking and bending metal vibrating through the airwaves. I stood my ground in anticipation to hear anything else within the darkness, nothing sounded but some emergency lights turned on in one of the corners of the room. The back up light lacked power itself; it flickered on and off from short to prolonged periods of time. 

I searched the room to see if I could figure out where the sound echoed from and it was from one of the cryogenic coffins that one of the bodies laid in. I couldn't think about anything else I could do to steer me away from the strange noises so I did what most wouldn't do. It was curiosity you could say, curiosity is what you can blame for my actions but by the time I reached the other side of the room, curiosity only raised more. A light stream of blood flowed out from the coffin and the body was poking out of it by about a foot or two. I got closer to look at the cadavers and it was shocking to see that it was myself. 

Out of every living thing in the world, I was the only thing that appeared to be dead—surely I had to be dreaming. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes to put me into deep thought. I could feel, I had to be alive but what the hell could be happening to me? I reopened my eyes to look at my body again to see something crawling underneath my dead bodies skin. It crawled and twisted around my chest and another headed up an arm, before I knew it they all centralized to my left side.

I moved the sheet off of my body so I could see where they were and no cut lied within my side like the one I have currently. A little tare began on the side to become deeper and longer—whatever was inside of me, wanted to get out. I could see the creatures under my skin push themselves forward up to the surface. Tearing and cracking sounded in the air and just then the pain on my own side began but seconds before it was able to exit the body, it stopped leaving me in pain. I leaned back onto the gurney that was behind me in shock and in pain, I had to collect myself before I could make another move.      

Next up in It Happened On A Tuesday:

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