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The whirring in my head won’t stop. It feels like there is helicopter blades spinning and spinning. I pray that a migraine will come. I would take the pounding of a jackhammer over this whirring. I open my eyes but it does no good. The whirring has taken over. The world is one spinning nightmare to me now. Will it ever return to the way it was?
I have fallen into oblivion. Oblivion is better than the chopping sounds of the whirring. This must be what Vietnam vets speak of when they talk about flashbacks. It is like…
...insanity has walked into my normally sane life and taken over. I can’t even fight it. I fade into the blackness and feel nothing.
Morning comes and my mind is telling me it has turned to mush. The events of last night’s episode have taken a toll on my ability to function. To an outsider looking in, I am the picture of health and stability. Good job, great friends and no obvious flaws. That is what makes this affliction so painful. No test can determine what is happening. No pill can save me. There is no wonder cure. I have...
...been dealt a hand that is far worse than anyone can imagine.
A start to the day momentarily takes my mind of the savagery that is this nightmare I have been living.
“And don’t forget to bring your umbrella today, its going to be a wet one!” claims Evan Brady, the local weatherman. The sound of Brady’s voice is so annoying that I wish for the whirring pain to return. This condescending prick has the nerve to tell me it is gonna be a wet one. Gee Evan, the raindrops that pound on my windows didn’t give it away, you...
My screaming at the television may be one of the effects of this affliction or I have a real disdain for TV weathermen. Especially Evan Brady.
I grab my coffee and run off the subway. In a strange way it brings me a little peace. Being in the underground with the constant rumbling of the trains and the chatter of all the people. It kind of calms me.
“Screeeeeeech”, most would find the brakes grinding on the metal tracks mind numbing but I welcome it.
“Why the fuck are we stopping?” screams a little fat man dressed in a...
...suit that looks like it was bought at a garage sale. It is miles too big for him and brown is not a flattering colour at all.
I stare at him and feel like no matter how pathetically he is dressed, no matter how bad his personal life probably is, I would trade with him in an instant. Let someone else deal with this horror. But why the hell have we stopped?
There go the lights. This should be fun. Fully grown adult human beings getting fidgety in a dark subway car. The women are getting fearful. I can feel...
...their fear gravitate towards me. It finds me like a lion finds its prey hiding in the tall grass. The prey feels safe because the lion is now sitting, looking around for the prey. The prey starts to lie low and grows confident as the lion starts to circle and walk anywhere but where the prey is sitting. A bird chirps off in the distance and the prey, for only a split second turns his head and BANG. The lion walks away with a meal and a sense of accomplishment.
What the hell is that? I feel a pinch...
...on my lower back and before I can look around I have a quake go through my entire body. I feel the bones knock together as I scream out in pain. The muscle is tearing from the bones as they move in directions that bones should not move. I open my eyes and no one is noticing my screams. They are too concerned with the lights being out in the subway car. Why won’t they listen to my screams? I try to look around me but all I see is what seems to be 500 miles ahead in a straight...
...line. No matter which way I turn my head, I see only in the straight line, tunnel vision at its finest. As I pass out from the pain of bones tearing themselves from my body, the lights come back on and the car starts to move.
What the fuck just happened? How did I get back home? I feel surprisingly well for someone who just blacked out and is now home with no idea how this happened! At least I can see around me. That’s all I seem to remember, I could only see straight ahead.
“8 o’clock in...
...the evening!” I screamed to no one in particular.
As if my life wasn’t strange enough right now without losing a whole day! I better check my answering machine.
“You have 11 new messages, to listen, press 2…” “HI there, I just wanted to call and make sure you were ok, that was quite a scare you put into us! Call me at the office tomorrow and let me how things are. And don’t even think about coming to work for the next 2 weeks. You need to rest. Talk to you tomorrow.” “Beep”, “Message deleted, next message” “Fuck dude...
...the hospital called me! Why did you give them my number? I thought I asked you to not use me as your emergency contact, just because we came from the same parents does not mean I am gonna take care of you. Fucking Freak!” “Beep” ”Message deleted, next message”
“Friendly guy” I whisper as I walk away from the answering machine and head to the kitchen. Why is there never any water in the friggin’ brita? Why do I have one if I never fill it up? Oh well, Toronto’s finest tap water will have to do.
Ugh, what the...
...fuck?” Out of the tap came a brown, tar like substance that surely isn’t water. I know Lake Ontario isn’t the cleanest lake around but this is ridiculous.
If all these weird things are happening, why aren’t I freaking out? That is probably the most disturbing thing. I lose a days memory, the whirring nightmare and now sludge coming out of my tap and I don’t give a shit. Something fucked up is going on here. But where is here? I guess it’s in my head.
“Go see Dr. Sullivan” I write on the fridge, hoping it will have some...
...meaning when I see it later. Now I need sleep.
“Just tell him I am busy…I don’t give a fuck how important it is, I am busy” what a useless secretary, mental note, find a new one! Where is my day timer? “Doris, where is my day timer? I ask as if I was talking to a child. “Its in your left hand drawer Ms. Sullivan”. What a coward, if someone spoke to me like I just spoke to her I would lose it. Ah, it is there, good thing for you Doris, good thing for you.
...in Doris” . I dread seeing Mr. Parker; there is absolutely nothing wrong with the man yet he insists on seeing me every week.
“Hi Paul, sit, please.” “Hi Dr. Sullivan, I really need to talk, do you mind if just start spilling it?” he pleads, yet again “Go ahead Paul, let it out”, I wonder if he can sense my sarcasm?
“Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah.” For a whole fucking hour...
I despise this job. I really do.
“Well, Paul, you sound like you are dealing with it well. Unfortunately, our time is up and I do have a very important meeting, so how about we continue this next week?” so you can pay for a new leather couch you sniveling fuck!
“Okay, Buh Bye! Doris, I am not to be disturbed, under ANY circumstance”. “Yes Ma’am” she whines. Bitch.
Ring, Ring…Ring, Ring “Jarvis here” “Jarvis, its Sullivan, what is the scoop, is it done?” I ask impatiently, why do I surround myself with idiots?” “Of course it’s done, its working...
...like a charm too.” He says obviously proud of himself. “Good, have you set up the cameras like I asked?” “Yup, and I wired your bedroom television like you asked so you can monitor his progress, nice frillies by the way” he giggles. “Fuck you Jarvis” I scream forgetting that Doris is right outside.
After slamming the phone down, in runs Doris “Is everything all right?” “Yes Doris, what did I say about being interrupted?” My words are like darts hitting her in the heart, she longs so badly for acceptance it is sick. “Sorry Ma’am.”
Now I can’t wait...
...to get home and see how my new “subject” is doing.
First I have to make sure that he stews a little. Half the fun was setting it up. The promotion, the great apartment, the friends. Funny how the good things just fall in your lap, or so you think. This has been a long time coming. I will enjoy it.
Ring…ring, fucking cell phone. “Hello?” “Listen Sullivan, this better work. There are a lot of people depending on this to work. If it doesn’t, I can’t protect you.” Click.
Why does that asshole always hang up? Must be afraid...
...of women. Gutless needle dick.
Walking into my bedroom, I can smell that Jarvis has been in here. It gives me the creeps knowing that he was probably all over my underwear drawer. Lets see what he has done here.
Wow, that picture is clear. I can see every move the fucker makes. He does talk to himself quite a bit. I am beginning to see why he was chosen.
Now that I look at him from a distance, he really is quite a specimen. I never noticed just how handsome he is. He has that something that makes women...
...take notice. Finely chiseled face structure, great hair, a well-built but not over done body of muscle that most men would kill to have.
Fuck, I need to get laid. I can’t be thinking about him like that! Who knows how long he will be around!
What would drive a man to allow himself to be punished like that? He has no idea I can see his entire life play out in my head. No fucking clue.
How I can see in his mind is another story in itself. As a young man, many years ago, I was..
...taken. “What do you mean taken” you ask? Well taken, in every sense of the word.
I was a young, up and coming Ad guy. I was that guy you see in movies. Going out to the coolest clubs, dating the greatest looking women, the best coke in town, the whole package. I thought it couldn’t get better. I was right it couldn’t. But it sure did, and would, get worse.
It all began with a ringing in my ears, a constant ringing. No matter what I did, it wouldn’t stop. I dealt with it for a few weeks figuring...
...it would go away. It didn’t. Finally I went to the doctor to fix this. He said I was in perfect health, not a thing wrong. I guess being a member of the most prestigious gym in town was paying off.
I was adamant that something was wrong. I demanded that he refer me to a specialist, which he did reluctantly.
“I don’t know what to tell you Mr. Fitzgerald, your ears are fine.” The response I was expecting, and received. The ringing was still there. It starting to drive me nuts. 11 weeks and it hadn’t stopped. It felt...
...like it was taking over.
Then it stopped.
I was feeling like the old me! I was ecstatic that I was back to normal. So happy that I decided to celebrate that night.
I called a few friends and we headed to “Cosmic Planet”, the hottest club in the city. The lineup was wrapped around the building twice. I didn’t want to wait in line. Luckily Paul Adams was with us. This guy knows everyone. Not a word of exaggeration, Tom Cruise couldn’t get into this place yet Paul just nods at the doorman and voila, in we go! Thank...
...god for Paul.
Once inside, Paul wanted to introduce me to a woman he knows. I was reluctant. It had only been 4 months since Darlene left me and I was still feeling down in the dumps. But Paul insisted.
Rebecca was actually nice. Not to mention one of the hottest women I had ever met. We talked for hours that night. There was an obvious attraction but neither of us were acting on it. It was just nice to be able to talk to a woman and have her listen. Really listen, not just nod and agree with whatever...
...you said. It was a nice feeling.
I met up with Rebecca almost every night for the next few months. Things were progressing nicely. We became very intimate and felt like we could get lost in each other for the rest of our lives.
That’s when it started to happen.
I was driving home from a late dinner meeting and lost my ability to see momentarily. For that split second, I could not see a thing. I was, for all intents and purposes, blind.
The car ran of the road furiously and flipped hard as it hit a small embankment...
I awoke in my bedroom hooked up to all kinds of IV’s and machines and Rebecca standing over me crying. I tried to reach up to he but my arms didn’t agree with what my brain was telling them. I tried to speak to her but my mouth wasn’t working either.
I felt like the character in that old movie “Johnny Get Your Gun”. I was the lump that couldn’t do anything. A living, breathing blob with no means of communicating in any way.
I overheard Rebecca speaking to one of the nurses that 8 months was far too long...
...to be in a coma. I was apparently a vegetable. She demanded that they do something now or she would bring in a team of specialists on her own. The nurse just smiled and told her to do so if she wished.
Over the next few months I was pricked and prodded by a group of men who all seemed to be Swedish or Dutch. I thought it was strange that Rebecca was nowhere to be found while this “team” was working on me.
I again went to sleep. For what seemed to be an eternity.
When I awoke, I...
...had full control of my body again. Not a scar on my body at all. I asked Rebecca how long had I been sleeping and nearly dies when she said a week. I told her I heard her say 8 months before and she laughed, called me silly and told me to relax.
This is when I got worried.
It seems Rebecca had told my employers that I would not be able to return to work as I was in no shape to be under that type of stress. She even fought them to place me on long term disability...
...with full pay. After all, I was returning from a work oriented dinner meeting.
I asked how I paid for all the medical treatment and Rebecca explained that her brother is a neurosurgeon and he had taken care of it all as a favour to her. Normally this would be a sweet moment. I, however, had an awful feeling that this was wrong.
As part of my long term disability plan, Rebecca had to move in care for me. I had hoped that her moving in would help alleviate these horrible feelings in the pit of my stomach...
That didn’t happen.
What did happen was that Rebecca turned into a tormentor. I was truly in her control. She had the team of surgeons perform a follow up surgery. I awoke in my apartment feeling good only to discover what they had done.
My arms had been sewn to my sides and my fingers together.
The last words Rebecca had said to me were “Now be a good subject and don’t mess with me.”
How was I supposed to “mess with her”?
My beautiful love affair had turned into a horror movie overnight. That’s just the beginning.
Well, I hope you enjoyed the beginning of a story I am writing. If any of you are publishers, feel free to buy my story! Seriously. I missed October’s words so I thought I would try something special for November. Feel free to let me know what you thought of it or offer any suggestions. I may try to continue it later. It was cool to get a bit of a flow going instead of writing like this. Little blurbs. Although it is nice to get back to straight 100 words. Cutting that into 100 word chunks was a bitch!
This is why I should pay more attention. I just entered november 1sts entry on the december 1 section. Sucks to be me. I always pay as little attention to what I am doing. I don't know why. I have a good attention span and at work I am a stickler for detail. Guess when you least expect it to you fuck up. Anyway, Clutch are coming to Toronto!! I am quite excited. If you haven't heard Clutch you should! Imagine Black Sabbath, Queens of the Stone Age and Miles Davis with John Coltrane rolled into one band. Some Awesome!
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