Mr. Artistic guy
Better Off This Way
A glint of light and all at once the setting becomes apparent. Boredom flips a coin high into the air and a large muscular hand catches it upon it's descent. It's the sort of repetitive motion used to pass the time, but pass the time until what? Surely there is an until? If you've a goal, the time between is free to be butchered whichever way seems appropriate and in many ways in which it may not be. But without one the time is used occupying yourself until you have the strength to come to terms with the concept of goals, allowing yourself to support time-wasting with half-assed reasons. Either way, until is always a consideration. It is likely, nay, certain this character has reasons. We are about to find out.
A rooftop is a good a place as any to escape mindless chatter. Any around is likely either brief or drowned out by the whizzing traffic un-gauged distances below. Thoughts, thoughts and reminiscences become louder to fill the void in such places. After all, humans are naturally social creatures. This is the joy and bane of many a life. For some, they are by far and away the latter. And with the clanging of footsteps on steel and associated bass that comes with conversation, it wouldn't be unfair to place our leading man into this category. The metal door labelled 'FIRE EXIT' swings open.
'I had a tip-off that I could find you here, someone said they saw you come up here earlier.' His semi-convincing enthusiasm does like to break the glower of his target, and his chipper expression fades with according realization. Well, looks like they were right. Doing anything interesting? He asks in a drole manner, almost as if he's learnt not to expect a response now. And he was right. Right not to expect a customary handshake either. Instead he just walks right over besides the man making sure not to be too close, pulls up a sturdy box from near the ventilation pipes, and sits down as if he were at home on it.
Right. I'd better start otherwise I'm not getting home before 6 and I'm got a parent's meeting thing at sch- yeah sorry not important I-. OK. He signals to the camera guy to start rolling. You've been assigned this week the daunting task of fending off 4 other men to stamp your mark and intentions on the Mayhem championship. It's not a done deal but winning this week will really put you as a front-runner to be the number 1 contender. What's your strategy going into a match like this with so much on the line?
His words awaken the comatose giant like some secret password. I get it. I do. You want me to tell you that I'm going to go in there like I always do, that I'm going to rip every other guy limb from limb and leave nobody standing. You want me to go on and on about him I 'deserve' to be the number one contender. You want some name calling, some idle threats, a dash of incendiary action, raised eyebrows, pointed fingers and I'm sorry...... I just, I'm just not in the mood. I w- Look I understand. You're doing your job, I don't blame you but I'm not someone who can just summon another tone of voice at will. I'm afraid I just feel how I feel and right now feeling is in short supply. Sometimes people get too close for comfort, wouldn't you say?
Let me tell you a story, about me, and about a time I let people get close before I learnt the hard way. I assume you've done your research eh Charles, I mean umm, Leon. Sorry. So you know I spent a large portion of my life in a ward for the mentally unstable or unpredictable I guess you might say. And truthfully I have a lot of trouble when I try to think back and pick out precise moments. I've been told it lasted 8 years but they didn't put clocks up and it's hard to imagine the novelty of a calender. For me it was just a sizable period of my life which I spent mostly staring through blurry eyes past barred windows. It was a very surreal time. No less surreal than the time which preceded it or that which existed outside of it though. I guarantee the outside world is equally as bizarre in my experience. But see on occasions you'd have this big block of distant dull existence violently dissected by sudden 'events'.
Now generally these would be say where another inmate would, for instance, hurt themselves severely or more commonly be hurt severely. Some of my best friends lost whatever personality they had this way. Crazy people aren't all that the hype builds them up to be. May you never underestimate how important the capacity for free thought is. I haven't since.
Every so often these events would not be quite so clear-cut, or predictable we'll say. I have to stress at this point the way those places work in case you don't already know. You have to be very lucky to get out. I spent 9 years there, 8 or 9, and compared to some of the people gracing those padded rooms it was merely a stint. It's easy enough to become a zombie in there, the meds take away your ability to think whilst the food removes your energy for it. Resisting wasn't impossible, just impractical and unlikely. The sight of a few dozen people trudging through the corridors like spirits could have an impact on the staff as much as the patients if they weren't the right sort of person to deal with it. I rarely took my meds. But I had the benefit of not being loopy to being with. See, I knew I could settle in well enough that no-one would notice if I didn't and as such I noticed things.
Now you can imagine how a 6 and a half foot hot-blooded teenager responds one day when we get this new, pretty, young, hourglass-figured, brunette nurse out of the blue. Not experienced enough that I knew what to do, but enough to know I liked what I saw. Rational enough to know that a place like that place probably wasn't for her if she wanted a future. An innocent girl like her shacking up with babbling lumps of flesh, barely held together by a skeleton. I could see right then, right then before she even could, that it wasn't right.
A few days later, I assume she had just been on a training week, and squinting through my eye whilst I'm pretending to be sleeping in my straw-mattress bed once again but who should I see? Who indeed. 'I'll be back in 10 minutes so be quick' shouted the guard peering round the iron door. I feel her reach for my arm and turn it over, a routine physical exam I presume. Eventually, after sufficient groping my curiosity gets the better of me. I open one eye whilst she's turned away, rifling through her notes. Even closer now I see here pale face and rose colored lips, a parting in the fringe with her hair brushed to the left. A true vision, and in uniform no less. And staring deeply as I was, I'd hardly notice her directing here eyes back upon me all the while I'm giving her a thorough a check-out as she me. It wasn't until a shrill screech pierced my concentration that I could look at anything but her divine face. 'What's going on in there. 'Are you OK?' called the guard. I shut my eyes with gusto and rolled over slightly to hide my face from plain-view. Yeah, yes I, umm, yes I'm fine. I just dropped a, a syringe. It's OK. She answered.
The peep-hole through the door slams shut once again. She looks down at me, now facing more toward her once again, with terror etched into her skin, he cheeks blanched more than they were to begin with is some accomplishment. It's some couple of minutes before she's able to steady her nerves and shaking hands, and be seated besides my bed once again. And no sooner than she resumes her examination with complete disregard and ignorance for my awakened state. I did feel this to be absurd at the time, I distinctly remember. Too many emotions all under the same lid were more than enough to overwhelm me and drive me to an action which was to change our lives unforeseeably. 'How, how long have you been-' .'I'm not supposed to speak to the patients'. Dumbstruck by the abrupt cut-off I lay with my jaw half open with residual shock. Unfaltering, however, I muster my courage to give it another shot. 'Are you going to be a nurse here fo-'. 'Are you going to let me do my job!' Once again I feel torn with a much colder truncation than the first. Luckily for me her human instincts take over her, what I recognized as inexperience on her part she managed a hurried 'sorry'. 'Yes, I, well I don't know yet. I plan to be here for a little while to come but I'm supposed to be checking you over as a sort of test for the job. Not that they or I for that matter had any idea you'd be so un-co-operative.' Now it's my turn to let out a quiet apology which lit her a smirk on her face, quickly infecting my own. She brushed it off pre-maturely in her professional persona but I continued regardless, no rules for the inmates, we were supposed to be animals. Peering down even beneath my body the entire time, she stood up before sheepishly admitting she was done. A sharp turn and the wooden flop of heels marked her exit, or so I thought. 'I, I'll be here again next week' And that was all I needed to know. My eyes felt thermally fixed on hers and then her appendages as she made her way out of the un-inviting room. It's the best I had. The engineering of original feeling, obscure indeed. I had no idea what the warmth glowing deep inside of me was, but I knew that it felt homely and comforting and, and warm most of all. I also knew I'd never felt it before that day. It was, as I say, all I needed to know. What most boys had spent years crafting into an art form flooding me without warning one average morning. I don't think I slept again nor later that night when the lights went out.
Like a cat with a brand new play-thing, I couldn't pull myself away from that experience. The passing week acted only as a bridge of time, crossing over mediocrity to her, where she would be waiting with arms outstretched and beaming face welcoming me in. Least this resembled the dreams I had during that week. And as quickly the flow of time had passed until then, I couldn't prepare for how achingly slow the next week would be. Practically torturous in it's own right.
Well what would you expect but for me to be awoken once again in the same manner as the time beforehand. A rubber-gloved hand trying desperately to wrap itself around my forearm. It's strange how you can wake up from a dream and straight away know where you are. For half a second I had the urge to pull my arm away with force but a flood of realization struck me all at once. This was what I had been waiting for, for what had felt like an age. I was barely able to contain myself from signalling my awakened state, but then again I barely wanted to. I slowly opened my eyes and uttered a 'hi' as quietly as I could whilst still having her hear it. She did not retreat in horror this time around but neither was she quite as embracing as I'd wished for. Not that I was hardly surprised, she'd have to have been pretty damn embracing to match my hopes. A sharp 'hello' was all that came back my way, but I took the positives from it. 'You got the job then'. 'Yeah, 3 months is my contract until I can consider moving on'. Naturally, I was unable to maintain my neutrality at the news, which, I assume my broad grin gave away because she quickly said 'Oh, you like that news do you! I see'. What could I say, I'd hardly hide my joy. 'Does that mean plenty more Thursday mornings like this then? She denied me my answer until nearly gone from the room, but I was satisfied when treated with the reply 'It does'.
We had many more days like this. And over the course of them I got to know her piece by piece, and in return I'd let he know about me, much of it fabricated of course because there was too much history there to digest. She obviously knew I was there for a reason but she just steered clear of that which I was grateful for. But I learnt a lot about her from 10 minutes a week. 2 brothers, a cat, father left home when she was 2. Typical sounding family, well perhaps not typical but nowhere near un-ordinary. University graduate, enjoyed visiting her grandparents. In fact I spend so much time just collecting and compiling this information that I didn't really notice. I didn't notice that the weeks have passed so quickly. I didn't notice..... that her 3 months was almost up....
'Hey wake up you'. I knew who it was. I'd been contemplating all of the previous night what to ask her, knowing full well I'd not remember when I woke up the next morning. It was true, I didn't. We trundled through the ten minutes with our semi-flirtatious lip-flapping, the time passing as fast as ever but without the sense of regret there otherwise would be. 'So you remember how I said my contract was up in 3 months...' In an instant my head was spinning, my heart racing, I'd kept it under-wraps on the surface but inside it felt like somebody had let loose a tornado and it was whirling round sucking up my organs, twisting me inside out. That sickly feeling you get, like guilt but more impending. Before she had the chance to tell me I knew, how could you not guess? 'Well, my contract is up today! 3 months already, can you believe it. And I'm afraid I've already got an offer for forensic psychology, I've decided this whole mental institution thing isn't for me. But...... I am going to miss you. I never expected to meet someone like you in a place like this, and you've made coming to work all the more manageable. Thanks.' All of the nice words floated past my ears in the shadow of a more important realization. Aghast, I lay there barely unable to move, certainly unable to talk, just watching her half-smiling whilst she left for the very, last, time.
Those words started to reverberate in my head. It was there clear as anything. I had life before her and life since, and one was most certainly missing something very important. It was too much for me to handle. I couldn't keep a control of myself. My legs sprang right out of bed and carried me through the door narrowly before it could close. 'WAIT' I shouted. 'She stopped cautiously and turned around quite slowly. 'Don't go' I bellowed. That was a mistake. By this time a troupe of guards had been alerted to my little scene and were making their way down the long stone corridor at pace. 'Can't you just, stay a bit longer?' THUDD! The feeling of the wooden club connecting with my head. 'What do you think you're doing out of your room before hours, get back inside' was the most clear I could make out amongst the animalistic voices surrounding me. More shots reigned in towards me from all angles bringing me to my knees, even some punches were thrown. It wasn't long before I was on the floor, getting kicked in the ribs by a host of fully grown men, all the while the lady I'd become infatuated with stood and watched in horror without a thing she could do to help.
Then all at once it all stopped. Through the gap in my fingers covering my face I could see the long brown curls at shoulder length. She had seen enough and taken a stand. She was lain over me to stop the guards from doing any more damage to my prone body. 'I'm not moving. He's not doing anything. He's not a threat to you or to me and there is no way I'm going to let this happen without intervening. If you want him, you'll have to come and move me. A unanimous look of uncertainty broke onto their faces, they started looking around for guidance. One man didn't look quite so uncertain. In fact he looked particularly driven, he looked like a man who hadn't seen his pound of flesh in a long while and his blood lust wouldn't be satisfied by their short ambush. 'I'm warning you now lady, move or I'll move ya.''I told you, I'm not moving'. 'One last chance lady, get out of my way, this isn't your business'. But once again she remained firm as ever. 'Don't say I didn't warn you then'. He rushed over to her and pushed her with all his might backwards. She went flying and knocked her head on the radiator against the back-wall. I could immediately tell from the reaction of the guards something was wrong. I swivelled on the floor to see where she was, and there she lay. Heaped on the floor like myself, a pool of blood forming around her temple, unconscious. 'I, I warned her, you all heard me. I, didn't do it on purpose. I, we, I need to go get the warden. Don't move a muscle.' I feared the worst. I was right to.
I knew the incident would be pinned on me despite half a dozen witnesses from other cells all too afraid or incapable or telling their version of accounts, the correct version. Either way they knew it didn't really matter. I wasn't likely to get out ever, what did it matter if I was blamed anyway? As it stands now, I was to be cleared by someone who eventually came forward weeks later but I lost something more important than my freedom that day. For weeks I would ask the practicing doctor what her condition was, if she was live? Recovered even? These were almost always dismisses but eventually I managed to pry from him that she was in fact alive, and had entered a deep coma.
Now I'm not one to wonder 'What If?' but I couldn't ever help but feel responsible in the most deep ways. What I would later come to realize was the first love of my life made the mistake.... or listening to me. It had almost got her killed and it may have been better if it had. To this day I don't believe she's awoken, or that she'd forgive me if she did, but I truly don't know.
What I do know is the torment that I've endured in this life whenever I've got close enough to someone. My parents, my nurse, Cooper. Human nature is odd that way, you tell yourself you won't make the same mistakes but you wait long enough and you'll forget what they were and start all over again. I don't want pity. I don't even want you to look at me funny. I don't want to talk a load of cool sounding nonsense at my opponents. I do want everyone to know, though, that I'm focused. I'm not attached to anyone. I am my own man. I have realized relationships and me don't mesh and I'm here to help when YOU have problem. Mine are unsolvable and therefore irrelevant, everybody else goes first. Let my arms be your voice and let me do you proud. After all, I am Agony, the most intense pain. Except for me, it's always been emotional.
Leon breathes it all in for a good 20 seconds or so. 'Wow.......... is that all true'
'Is what true'
'The story!'
'WHAT STORY?! My god, and some people call ME crazy.' He laughs manically as he walks away into the setting Sun.
A rooftop is a good a place as any to escape mindless chatter. Any around is likely either brief or drowned out by the whizzing traffic un-gauged distances below. Thoughts, thoughts and reminiscences become louder to fill the void in such places. After all, humans are naturally social creatures. This is the joy and bane of many a life. For some, they are by far and away the latter. And with the clanging of footsteps on steel and associated bass that comes with conversation, it wouldn't be unfair to place our leading man into this category. The metal door labelled 'FIRE EXIT' swings open.
'I had a tip-off that I could find you here, someone said they saw you come up here earlier.' His semi-convincing enthusiasm does like to break the glower of his target, and his chipper expression fades with according realization. Well, looks like they were right. Doing anything interesting? He asks in a drole manner, almost as if he's learnt not to expect a response now. And he was right. Right not to expect a customary handshake either. Instead he just walks right over besides the man making sure not to be too close, pulls up a sturdy box from near the ventilation pipes, and sits down as if he were at home on it.
Right. I'd better start otherwise I'm not getting home before 6 and I'm got a parent's meeting thing at sch- yeah sorry not important I-. OK. He signals to the camera guy to start rolling. You've been assigned this week the daunting task of fending off 4 other men to stamp your mark and intentions on the Mayhem championship. It's not a done deal but winning this week will really put you as a front-runner to be the number 1 contender. What's your strategy going into a match like this with so much on the line?
His words awaken the comatose giant like some secret password. I get it. I do. You want me to tell you that I'm going to go in there like I always do, that I'm going to rip every other guy limb from limb and leave nobody standing. You want me to go on and on about him I 'deserve' to be the number one contender. You want some name calling, some idle threats, a dash of incendiary action, raised eyebrows, pointed fingers and I'm sorry...... I just, I'm just not in the mood. I w- Look I understand. You're doing your job, I don't blame you but I'm not someone who can just summon another tone of voice at will. I'm afraid I just feel how I feel and right now feeling is in short supply. Sometimes people get too close for comfort, wouldn't you say?
Let me tell you a story, about me, and about a time I let people get close before I learnt the hard way. I assume you've done your research eh Charles, I mean umm, Leon. Sorry. So you know I spent a large portion of my life in a ward for the mentally unstable or unpredictable I guess you might say. And truthfully I have a lot of trouble when I try to think back and pick out precise moments. I've been told it lasted 8 years but they didn't put clocks up and it's hard to imagine the novelty of a calender. For me it was just a sizable period of my life which I spent mostly staring through blurry eyes past barred windows. It was a very surreal time. No less surreal than the time which preceded it or that which existed outside of it though. I guarantee the outside world is equally as bizarre in my experience. But see on occasions you'd have this big block of distant dull existence violently dissected by sudden 'events'.
Now generally these would be say where another inmate would, for instance, hurt themselves severely or more commonly be hurt severely. Some of my best friends lost whatever personality they had this way. Crazy people aren't all that the hype builds them up to be. May you never underestimate how important the capacity for free thought is. I haven't since.
Every so often these events would not be quite so clear-cut, or predictable we'll say. I have to stress at this point the way those places work in case you don't already know. You have to be very lucky to get out. I spent 9 years there, 8 or 9, and compared to some of the people gracing those padded rooms it was merely a stint. It's easy enough to become a zombie in there, the meds take away your ability to think whilst the food removes your energy for it. Resisting wasn't impossible, just impractical and unlikely. The sight of a few dozen people trudging through the corridors like spirits could have an impact on the staff as much as the patients if they weren't the right sort of person to deal with it. I rarely took my meds. But I had the benefit of not being loopy to being with. See, I knew I could settle in well enough that no-one would notice if I didn't and as such I noticed things.
Now you can imagine how a 6 and a half foot hot-blooded teenager responds one day when we get this new, pretty, young, hourglass-figured, brunette nurse out of the blue. Not experienced enough that I knew what to do, but enough to know I liked what I saw. Rational enough to know that a place like that place probably wasn't for her if she wanted a future. An innocent girl like her shacking up with babbling lumps of flesh, barely held together by a skeleton. I could see right then, right then before she even could, that it wasn't right.
A few days later, I assume she had just been on a training week, and squinting through my eye whilst I'm pretending to be sleeping in my straw-mattress bed once again but who should I see? Who indeed. 'I'll be back in 10 minutes so be quick' shouted the guard peering round the iron door. I feel her reach for my arm and turn it over, a routine physical exam I presume. Eventually, after sufficient groping my curiosity gets the better of me. I open one eye whilst she's turned away, rifling through her notes. Even closer now I see here pale face and rose colored lips, a parting in the fringe with her hair brushed to the left. A true vision, and in uniform no less. And staring deeply as I was, I'd hardly notice her directing here eyes back upon me all the while I'm giving her a thorough a check-out as she me. It wasn't until a shrill screech pierced my concentration that I could look at anything but her divine face. 'What's going on in there. 'Are you OK?' called the guard. I shut my eyes with gusto and rolled over slightly to hide my face from plain-view. Yeah, yes I, umm, yes I'm fine. I just dropped a, a syringe. It's OK. She answered.
The peep-hole through the door slams shut once again. She looks down at me, now facing more toward her once again, with terror etched into her skin, he cheeks blanched more than they were to begin with is some accomplishment. It's some couple of minutes before she's able to steady her nerves and shaking hands, and be seated besides my bed once again. And no sooner than she resumes her examination with complete disregard and ignorance for my awakened state. I did feel this to be absurd at the time, I distinctly remember. Too many emotions all under the same lid were more than enough to overwhelm me and drive me to an action which was to change our lives unforeseeably. 'How, how long have you been-' .'I'm not supposed to speak to the patients'. Dumbstruck by the abrupt cut-off I lay with my jaw half open with residual shock. Unfaltering, however, I muster my courage to give it another shot. 'Are you going to be a nurse here fo-'. 'Are you going to let me do my job!' Once again I feel torn with a much colder truncation than the first. Luckily for me her human instincts take over her, what I recognized as inexperience on her part she managed a hurried 'sorry'. 'Yes, I, well I don't know yet. I plan to be here for a little while to come but I'm supposed to be checking you over as a sort of test for the job. Not that they or I for that matter had any idea you'd be so un-co-operative.' Now it's my turn to let out a quiet apology which lit her a smirk on her face, quickly infecting my own. She brushed it off pre-maturely in her professional persona but I continued regardless, no rules for the inmates, we were supposed to be animals. Peering down even beneath my body the entire time, she stood up before sheepishly admitting she was done. A sharp turn and the wooden flop of heels marked her exit, or so I thought. 'I, I'll be here again next week' And that was all I needed to know. My eyes felt thermally fixed on hers and then her appendages as she made her way out of the un-inviting room. It's the best I had. The engineering of original feeling, obscure indeed. I had no idea what the warmth glowing deep inside of me was, but I knew that it felt homely and comforting and, and warm most of all. I also knew I'd never felt it before that day. It was, as I say, all I needed to know. What most boys had spent years crafting into an art form flooding me without warning one average morning. I don't think I slept again nor later that night when the lights went out.
Like a cat with a brand new play-thing, I couldn't pull myself away from that experience. The passing week acted only as a bridge of time, crossing over mediocrity to her, where she would be waiting with arms outstretched and beaming face welcoming me in. Least this resembled the dreams I had during that week. And as quickly the flow of time had passed until then, I couldn't prepare for how achingly slow the next week would be. Practically torturous in it's own right.
Well what would you expect but for me to be awoken once again in the same manner as the time beforehand. A rubber-gloved hand trying desperately to wrap itself around my forearm. It's strange how you can wake up from a dream and straight away know where you are. For half a second I had the urge to pull my arm away with force but a flood of realization struck me all at once. This was what I had been waiting for, for what had felt like an age. I was barely able to contain myself from signalling my awakened state, but then again I barely wanted to. I slowly opened my eyes and uttered a 'hi' as quietly as I could whilst still having her hear it. She did not retreat in horror this time around but neither was she quite as embracing as I'd wished for. Not that I was hardly surprised, she'd have to have been pretty damn embracing to match my hopes. A sharp 'hello' was all that came back my way, but I took the positives from it. 'You got the job then'. 'Yeah, 3 months is my contract until I can consider moving on'. Naturally, I was unable to maintain my neutrality at the news, which, I assume my broad grin gave away because she quickly said 'Oh, you like that news do you! I see'. What could I say, I'd hardly hide my joy. 'Does that mean plenty more Thursday mornings like this then? She denied me my answer until nearly gone from the room, but I was satisfied when treated with the reply 'It does'.
We had many more days like this. And over the course of them I got to know her piece by piece, and in return I'd let he know about me, much of it fabricated of course because there was too much history there to digest. She obviously knew I was there for a reason but she just steered clear of that which I was grateful for. But I learnt a lot about her from 10 minutes a week. 2 brothers, a cat, father left home when she was 2. Typical sounding family, well perhaps not typical but nowhere near un-ordinary. University graduate, enjoyed visiting her grandparents. In fact I spend so much time just collecting and compiling this information that I didn't really notice. I didn't notice that the weeks have passed so quickly. I didn't notice..... that her 3 months was almost up....
'Hey wake up you'. I knew who it was. I'd been contemplating all of the previous night what to ask her, knowing full well I'd not remember when I woke up the next morning. It was true, I didn't. We trundled through the ten minutes with our semi-flirtatious lip-flapping, the time passing as fast as ever but without the sense of regret there otherwise would be. 'So you remember how I said my contract was up in 3 months...' In an instant my head was spinning, my heart racing, I'd kept it under-wraps on the surface but inside it felt like somebody had let loose a tornado and it was whirling round sucking up my organs, twisting me inside out. That sickly feeling you get, like guilt but more impending. Before she had the chance to tell me I knew, how could you not guess? 'Well, my contract is up today! 3 months already, can you believe it. And I'm afraid I've already got an offer for forensic psychology, I've decided this whole mental institution thing isn't for me. But...... I am going to miss you. I never expected to meet someone like you in a place like this, and you've made coming to work all the more manageable. Thanks.' All of the nice words floated past my ears in the shadow of a more important realization. Aghast, I lay there barely unable to move, certainly unable to talk, just watching her half-smiling whilst she left for the very, last, time.
Those words started to reverberate in my head. It was there clear as anything. I had life before her and life since, and one was most certainly missing something very important. It was too much for me to handle. I couldn't keep a control of myself. My legs sprang right out of bed and carried me through the door narrowly before it could close. 'WAIT' I shouted. 'She stopped cautiously and turned around quite slowly. 'Don't go' I bellowed. That was a mistake. By this time a troupe of guards had been alerted to my little scene and were making their way down the long stone corridor at pace. 'Can't you just, stay a bit longer?' THUDD! The feeling of the wooden club connecting with my head. 'What do you think you're doing out of your room before hours, get back inside' was the most clear I could make out amongst the animalistic voices surrounding me. More shots reigned in towards me from all angles bringing me to my knees, even some punches were thrown. It wasn't long before I was on the floor, getting kicked in the ribs by a host of fully grown men, all the while the lady I'd become infatuated with stood and watched in horror without a thing she could do to help.
Then all at once it all stopped. Through the gap in my fingers covering my face I could see the long brown curls at shoulder length. She had seen enough and taken a stand. She was lain over me to stop the guards from doing any more damage to my prone body. 'I'm not moving. He's not doing anything. He's not a threat to you or to me and there is no way I'm going to let this happen without intervening. If you want him, you'll have to come and move me. A unanimous look of uncertainty broke onto their faces, they started looking around for guidance. One man didn't look quite so uncertain. In fact he looked particularly driven, he looked like a man who hadn't seen his pound of flesh in a long while and his blood lust wouldn't be satisfied by their short ambush. 'I'm warning you now lady, move or I'll move ya.''I told you, I'm not moving'. 'One last chance lady, get out of my way, this isn't your business'. But once again she remained firm as ever. 'Don't say I didn't warn you then'. He rushed over to her and pushed her with all his might backwards. She went flying and knocked her head on the radiator against the back-wall. I could immediately tell from the reaction of the guards something was wrong. I swivelled on the floor to see where she was, and there she lay. Heaped on the floor like myself, a pool of blood forming around her temple, unconscious. 'I, I warned her, you all heard me. I, didn't do it on purpose. I, we, I need to go get the warden. Don't move a muscle.' I feared the worst. I was right to.
I knew the incident would be pinned on me despite half a dozen witnesses from other cells all too afraid or incapable or telling their version of accounts, the correct version. Either way they knew it didn't really matter. I wasn't likely to get out ever, what did it matter if I was blamed anyway? As it stands now, I was to be cleared by someone who eventually came forward weeks later but I lost something more important than my freedom that day. For weeks I would ask the practicing doctor what her condition was, if she was live? Recovered even? These were almost always dismisses but eventually I managed to pry from him that she was in fact alive, and had entered a deep coma.
Now I'm not one to wonder 'What If?' but I couldn't ever help but feel responsible in the most deep ways. What I would later come to realize was the first love of my life made the mistake.... or listening to me. It had almost got her killed and it may have been better if it had. To this day I don't believe she's awoken, or that she'd forgive me if she did, but I truly don't know.
What I do know is the torment that I've endured in this life whenever I've got close enough to someone. My parents, my nurse, Cooper. Human nature is odd that way, you tell yourself you won't make the same mistakes but you wait long enough and you'll forget what they were and start all over again. I don't want pity. I don't even want you to look at me funny. I don't want to talk a load of cool sounding nonsense at my opponents. I do want everyone to know, though, that I'm focused. I'm not attached to anyone. I am my own man. I have realized relationships and me don't mesh and I'm here to help when YOU have problem. Mine are unsolvable and therefore irrelevant, everybody else goes first. Let my arms be your voice and let me do you proud. After all, I am Agony, the most intense pain. Except for me, it's always been emotional.
Leon breathes it all in for a good 20 seconds or so. 'Wow.......... is that all true'
'Is what true'
'The story!'
'WHAT STORY?! My god, and some people call ME crazy.' He laughs manically as he walks away into the setting Sun.
