The Still Run

A Still Run

“Mental Health’ll drive you mad”
-Quiet Riot



This is my life, at least at its end. I’m a man in a state of poor mental health, giving my mind a still run at nothing. Before, I was more than this. Now my bed is soiled. I watch TV and it’s the same. We are all dying. My living room is stained with smoke. This is my inferno. It is a testament to oblivion. Maybe I need it that way, to be the only one listening. Tragedy fills me and sets the pace for what I compare a good day from a bad one. These horns break through my brow and I lay here in my death bed. I am whole. My water runs down my leg. God is not worth saving.
I was not always this way. I was once normal…whatever that means. I had your average Joe’s life. A nine-to-five job and a garden out back that my kids could play in. They built castles in the sand and called me a king. I would sip lemonade by the pool and let the sun beat down on my skin and try to get that perfect tan in the summer, and nestle by the fireplace in the winter. How I got from there to here I cannot say. I had it all, and then, snap, I came too. If I really had to put my finger on the margin from where I crossed, I guess that that margin is more of a smudge than a crisp line. Fuck I’m hot. It was a Monday when it started.
I woke up around four thirty that morning instead of my usual five-thirty. My wife lay next to me and I kissed her eyes as they lay in slumber. I went to the bathroom to take a leak and wash my face. The porcelain went from white to yellow at the first drop. I flushed away the memory of the night’s dream and grabbed the sink. My stomach became ill in my bowels. The pain shot from my intestine to my balls. The porcelain now went from off white to a brown tint. I got the pain out with a forced push from down deep inside. I need a cigarette I thought. I looked at my watch that was lying on my counter beside my smokes and it read quarter till. ‘Damn’ I thought and rushed through the rest of the ritual …shit shower, shave, rub one off, (I have no hair so hence the exclusion of the shampoo), go to work. I whispered I love you to my kids on my way out and off to work I went.
My veins are burning now with every beat of my heart. I abandon all faith in a glorified heaven. My horns have been cut from the backbone of evil. I am the founder of lost pagan religions and I have no saliva dripping from my lips. My mouth is as dry as ashes that burn from our histories. I need more fire to burn bright on my majestic mountain side. I have led the lost to a fallen God. Moan my children. Seek out life from your fears and bow before my wailing tongue of deceit. I will tear your deepest desires that hide away in your belly out and unveil your soul. Mother come to my bed and pleasure your father. My eyes can see now.
It was raining that morning. I got stuck in traffic on my way in. Some asshole cut off a bus, which cuts off twenty other cars, and in turn cuts me off, but that’s why I leave at seven to get to work by nine. Un-fucking-believable, but I’ve learned to believe in the unbelievable. I pulled into the parking lot and the rain began to subside. Puddles were all around the lot. I could see my reflection as I walked by them, one after another. I heard a plane taking off in the distance and my reflection faded away in a wave. I walked into my office.
I could hear all the buzz of people coming and going. Like a bunch of drones they were off to fuck the queen. I had to do my share. That’s my job, well was. We sold insurance cheap. Ninety percent of our buyers buy for the first time, and then fail to pay a few months later, while new buyers come in to pick up the slack. I monitor their productions and declines. A head ache came in from the back of my head. It always is a tell-tale sign of a migraine setting in. I reached into my top drawer and grabbed my prescription. I have had these things seems like forever, but lately they had been getting worse. I unloaded two into my system instead of the normal one dosage against orders, but what the fuck do the doctors know. I learned to gauge as decided by the intensity of pain. They manifest always at the same time. The morning one was the worst, mainly because I would wake from my sleep, the quiet would gradually shift to a clamor of cars, horns, voices, footsteps, failing mufflers, insidious questions, and the grinding of my teeth. I need them. I eventually called my wife at home. It’s a ritual. I left a message and went about my morning.
I smell metal. I sense a change of scenery coming. My muscles tighten. I can feel loneliness and fear beating within. Like a pounding drum they call to me. A sea of blood boils in my poison. The blackness ties the bond with the being of fear. I toil the fields in the red sun. My reaping brings about the harvest. My head shakes in the wake of the flowing river that runs through my field. I sell the drama. I am the theater of pain.
I got up from my desk for lunch. I reached into my pocket and grabbed my cigarettes. I wiped off the dust from my old hat and walked to the elevator. My nerves became ransacked with urgency to smoke. I didn’t know why. ‘Maybe it’s the remnants from this morning’s sickness’ I said out loud. My compartment companion looked at me and rolled her eyes. I watched more at the rolling of her breasts. My loins became enflamed. I popped another pill. I needed control the inflammation.
I stepped of the elevator and went to the coffee machine to get more stimulation. It was in contrast to my prescribed healing. I followed all the other bees to the front smoking area. Damn communistic asshole building coordinators. The rain had proceeded again to clean the morning air. I decided to walk to “Johnny’s Deep Dive” for lunch, while getting my fill off a Camel. Two guys in a car pulled up and one asked if he could get a smoke.
“You got a smoke man?” he said.
I told him that I did. The other asked me if I knew where a decent diner was that they could get a bite to eat. I told them that, by chance, I was on my way to one right around the corner about two blocks up. He returned with an invitation for a lift. I said that I was fine, but his generosity won me over. Without haste, the guy in the passenger’s seat hopped in the back and I jumped in. The next thing I know I’m in the front seat…. Vague glimpses are all I could catch from that moment.
That’s the last thing I remember about that day in the open. I finally came to. I was in a cold damp room with drops of water keeping time on my head. I looked around me and saw nothing but my toilet having now turned silver. No more porcelain to confess too, only the cold hard truth of metal. The door was just as confining to reality as the toilet. It bore only a small mirror and no handle. I got up to look outside of my now obvious cell and realized that I was put in a jacket. I couldn’t move my arms. I felt the cotton chafe my shoulders as I struggled. I managed to get up and walked to the hole in the door. I began to call out to the emptiness abroad.
“Hello? Hello?” my voice echoed in my room and hallway on the other side.
“My name is Devon Hoffman. I have a family. I think you’ve gotten me confused with someone else. Hello?” I continued.
“Can somebody tell me why I’m here? Hello?” I began to anger as I tried to aimlessly remove my jacket. I began to kick the door with my foot. The vibration cascaded through the room.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? WHERE IS MY FAMILY? WOULD SOMEBODY FUCKING ANSWER ME? PLEASE.”
Suddenly a soft voice came out of the ceiling.
“Sir…” a ladies voice called out from above like a devil on the side line with authority. “You need to calm down and back away from the door. This is the first and last time I will tell you. Someone will be in shortly.” And like that, the voice disappeared.
I wondered around the room for what seemed like hours. My bare feet began to blister and my stomach began to rumble. I finally gave way and sat on the corner of my soiled bed. I looked up into the night through my only window. It sat the top of the wall and had bars coursing through the glass. I began to feel that rumble turn into a turning sensation. My head began to pound. I needed my pills. I fell to the floor and began too shake uncontrollably. The pain now surging through causes the veins in my face to bulge. My breath racing trying to keep up with the heart. Now there is nothing.
II

I flip the channel in the soul. Light turns to dark and I forgo the trip. The killing fields have been reopened. I lash out to the workers. I am the whip. I am the regret. I open my mouth and shout out the names of their fallen fathers. I call the bluff they’ve set before the world. All minds have embraced the falsities of life. ‘The sea is on the burner and the land in the kiln; frying the seeds of man and raping their young at will’. The words chanted as one leads the other. I am their piper.
I was pulled up by a hand I had known. The look in her eyes reminded me of shelter on a rainy day. I reached out to hold her but the confinement kept me at bay.
“Hello son.” She said with tears falling from her cheeks.
“Mom. What’s going?” I said wiping away the sleep from my eye. I was brought to the realization that this was not some twisted dream.
“I don’t know honey, but their telling me that there’s a problem with Sarah and the kids and that you had an episode. Do you know anything about what’s happened?”
“What do you mean there’s a problem with them.” I said ignoring her statement to my own issue.
“Doctor Lippmann will be here in a minute to tell us what’s going on, but what happened to you.” She said running her hand across my cheek.
“I don’t know anything about an episode Mom. All I remember was getting in some car and going to the Dive, and I woke up here. I yelled out to the hall way to try to get some answers, but some lady came on a loud speaker and told me to calm down.”
As I was telling her about my unfortunate day and about my most recent events with the invisible lady in the ceiling, a clanging of searching keys arose from the other side of the door. One of them found there way into the rusty lock and turned. The screeching pierced the ears. The dim lights that had showed in the cell for so long where abruptly brightened, and came the opening of the damp door by a blurred figure. In walked Doctor Lippmann followed by a lady in a white jacket and black granny shoes.
“Doc. What the fuck is going on?” I said as he walked in. I jumped up and walked towards him.
“You need to sit down Devon. Mrs. Hoffman I need you to step out side with Doctor Lennox.” He told me taking my mothers hand and passing her off to the other doctor. They walked outside closing the door behind them. I could see their heads outside though the small window.
“What the hell’s going on Doc.? I have no idea why I’m here. Mom doesn’t know anything. Nobody is giving me any answers. I’ve been here two days and I’m in this fucking straight jacket. What’s wrong with my wife and kids?”
I looked over his shoulder and could see my mother nodding through the glass. The nodding quickly turned into a hysterical crying, and she turned to the door pressing her face to my window and her hands banging against its frame. I tried to make out what she was saying but the Doc. was trying to talk at the same time, and before I could move towards her to hear her clearly a guard walked her away. The only thing I heard was her calling out my name, and her yelling to the guard to let her go. My eyes started getting watery from my new found self concern. I looked back to the Doc. and did as I was told by sitting back on my bed.
“What I’m about to tell you is something I should have told you a long time ago. Now, I need you to take a deep breath and calm down. Are you calm?” he said as he looked into my eyes for verification that I had heard and understood.
I did as I was told and finally got my pulse to settle. I nodded. Looking back now at all of my life, up until that point, nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to hear. I settled into my false sense of calmness and oneness and listened.
“Devon, do you remember when your mother first brought you to see me.”
“Yeah, I was about five. I think.” I said nodding.
“Do you remember me telling you that the meds your mother was going to be giving you was for rare cases where people are extremely gifted but are subject to having head aches as a side effect?” He said looking for my agreement.
“Yeah, I had had a really bad one that night before, and mom brought me there.”
“Your mother actually brought you to me because you were having strange episodes at school and at home. You would be playing or learning and you would start slipping off into a dream world, and would do and say extremely strange things. It had only been happening abruptly over a period of two weeks. When the teachers and your mother realized that you were starting to pass out after and had no memory of any of the incidents prior to it, they sought out my help. Unfortunately, because of this, your father left your mother and she vowed to never let him see you again. That’s why you don’t know your father.”
“I thought you were just our new family physician. And that the billing department at the other place had screwed mom out of a couple of hundred dollars” I returned. “Why was I never told this shit?”
“Your mother kept this from you because she wanted you to live a relatively normal life. I gave her those pills as a remedy for your condition. It worked for a long time, at least until recently.”
I was still under a shroud of disbelief of what I was being told twenty years after the fact. I asked him what it was that I had, and was it the reason why I was here. More importantly, I asked what had happened to my family. He continued.
“You were brought here by the two men that you got into the car with. They knocked you out with Ether and brought you here. You see Devon; you have a rare form of Schizophrenia called Oneirophrenia. It’s a disease that has many other diseases intertwined. This rare condition can only be treated and not cured. Because it has those various counterparts, some are easily distinguished and treatable, but others are harder to control and treat. I spent a lot of time trying to formulate a specific drug that would work to treat most of the symptoms of disease you have. Your main ones were Schizotypal Disorder and Dementia so that’s what I focused on. I worked on advancements of the medicine for the past thirty years. Everything was fine for you until now. I had tried to get your mother to tell you, but she refused. I explained to her that I had no idea how long the treatments would work, but she insisted on keeping this a secret from the world. I never told you because I made her a promise. I just kept up with treatment and adjusted the dosage when needed. Now, I more than likely will lose my license because of this and probably put on trial. But, I need to know do you remember anything from the night before that day you woke up here?”
“I remember eating dinner, helping the kids with their home work while Sarah cleaned the kitchen. We put the kids to bed and made love. Then we went to sleep.” I answered still taking all this in.
“You don’t remember anything else?” he asked.
“I had a nightmare that caused me to wake up earlier than usual. Other than that, no.”
“Do you remember what the dream was?”
“No.”
“Well, Sarah and the kids are missing. The police went to your house when she didn’t show up for work after the manger called repeatedly and got no answers. Sarah had put your mothers down as an emergency contact and she said she hadn’t seen her either. Your mom called the school and the kids hadn’t shown up either, so she called the police to go check on the house and the house was found in shambles. They called you mother to tell her what had happened and if she knew where they could find you. When the police got to your work you had already left for lunch. She called me after she got off the phone, and I told the police to find a method of taking you down quietly without a huge fiasco. When I explained your condition and the secret of your condition and treatment, they were concerned, but agreed. That’s why you’re here Devon. If you want, you could say that I put you here, but, unfortunately” he paused “ I feared that this might happen, so it’s in everyone’s best interest that you remain here until they find out what exactly is going on. Here, here is a shot to keep your head relatively calm for a while. Don’t tell anyone that I gave you this. If they ask deny everything, and hopefully this will have all seemed like a bad dream in the end.”
He gave me a shot in my thigh that hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. I told him that I would do what he said, and I laid down. The room and his voice slowly faded off. My pulse began to slow. Sleep. Dream.


III

The pain is pouring over me at the base of this wave. This murky water that I have known and tasted quenches my thirst; to long it has been my friend. The music of the sirens plucks the cord that quakes my soul. This is my abyss of elevation. Hoards of hanging heads float by and greet me with their smiles, all bowing as one. I am undeserving of this world of rotting flesh and pleasure. Leviathan feeds off my tragedy. My eyes are blurring to all that was once mine. I welcome the devils invitation of kingdom and grace.
When you spend a lot of time in one place you slowly get used to the routine. The only way I could keep track of time was my pacing the floor. It took thirty seconds to pace the room at my normal walk. Two weeks had passed since I saw my mother, at least that’s’ the best I could figure…one million two hundred nine thousand six hundred seconds. Doctor Lippmann said that they wouldn’t let her in to see me due to the ongoing investigation. I think it was for her own mental health opposed to mine. He came by every other day to give me my meds with a syringe full of this drug. It last just long enough to get me by. The food sucked and the AC went down so they opened up the window at the top of the wall. Some overweight fat guy with a billy club came in with a ladder to do the honors. Though repulsed by his lack of self care, I was afforded a few moments of conversation. Apparently, his name escapes me, but he only worked here part time to catch up on bills. He told me that I was the first guy in a straight jacket that he had ever met. I told him it was my first time as well. The window was opened and the damp air from outside relieved the stagnant air from the cell. I was alone again.
A couple of days later the AC came back on, but the leak from the ceiling kept the room moist. A knock came at the door and for a moment I thought it was Lippmann coming back for my routine injection. The lady that came in was Doctor Lennox. She was still in her white jacket and granny shoes. She pulled a chair in from the hall way and sat down across from my bed leaving the guard standing in the thresh hold. She told me to have a seat and relax. I stopped my pacing and sat down on the corner of my bed. Her blond hair reminded me of Sarah’s, but her skin tone was much darker. She was a little hotter than I remembered.
“Have they found out anything about Sarah and the kids yet?” I asked trying to read her body and facial expressions for any sign of hiding truths.
“I don’t know anything about your family Devon. I’m here because they have suspicions of foul play. They found incriminating evidence suggesting that you were involved.” She didn’t falter.
“What do you mean? What did they find?” I retaliated.
“Let’s just focus on why I’m here for now, and we’ll, hopefully, answer those questions in time. Ok?”
“Alright.” I said inquisitive to what was about to befall me.
“Now, do you remember anything about the night before the day you were taken in?”
“I’ve already talked to Doctor Lippmann about that. Surely he gave a report to the investigating officers.”
“He did, but I’m trying to find out if you’ve remembered anything since then.”
“I already told you that I can’t?”
“Well I’ve got something that I want to show you and tell me if there’s anything you can recall. Ok?”
“Alright.” I waited for what was next. She reached into her pocket in her coat and pulled out a plastic bag and sat it beside me.
“What the fuck!” I jumped back into my corner and turned my head away.
“What’s going on Devon? Is there something in the bag that talks to you?”
“That shirt there’s something about that shirt!” I told her feeling my chest pounding in fear.
“Who’s shirt is it Devon?” she said calmly.
“It’s mine, but there’s something more. I don’t know what’s happening to me. Help me please. I need…I need…” I started to cry.
“What do you need? Tell me, do you want me to put the shirt away?”
“I don’t know.” I said tears pouring out.
“Listen to me Devon. I know a way to find out what’s happening, but I need to know that you trust me. Do you trust me Devon?” she asked. I nodded.
“I’m going to give you an injection that’s going to put you into a state of hypnosis. Because of your condition, we can’t use the classic method of hypnosis. Now, I need you to lay back and relax.” She pulled out a needle.
“Now, you’re going to feel a little pin prick.” She gave me the injection.
“How long will I be under?” I asked
“Just a little while, probably a couple of hours or so.”
The last thing I remember was her calling out for the guard and getting another prick just when I started to come to. I fell back under. I finally woke up in a much nicer cell. The leak from the ceiling was gone, but my window at the top of the wall was gone. All that was there now was a vent. My soiled bed had been replaced by the customary jail bed…matt and white sheets. The window with lattice formed bars was the only thing familiar, that and my toilet which was standard issued metal cast. The walls were freshly painted. A couple of pictures of Christ’s crucifixion were etched into the wall, probably by the fingernail of one of the places most renowned artists. The cell was a little smaller, but at least the dampness of the air had been replaced with, what can only be related as, aromatic Lysol disinfectant spray.
My jacket had also been removed. I was thankful to be able to stretch at last. Noticing that I still was incarcerated, I sat down on my bed and waited.
A couple of minutes later I heard foot steps slowing at my door and that familiar clanging of keys. I heard the voices on the other side talking about their weekend. I got up to peak through my window. Before I could reach the door, a key entered the lock and I dropped back onto my bed. The man that entered looked like the devil himself. His skin complexion looked like sand and his face reminded me of the middle age art portrayal of Lucifer himself. My nerves took hold of my body and I struggled to regain my composure. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair to try to stylize what remained of years passed. When he looked at me I submitted to his presence, as if a slave to master.
“Well, well, well Mr. Hoffman. You’ve been a sort of enigma haven’t you? A little pest among society, so to say. You truly had us for a while. What you got to say for yourself.”
“Nothing.” I said
“Don’t hand me that you fucking piece of shit.” I tensed up at his wailing.
“I really have no idea what you’re talking about sir.” I pleaded
“Well, I’ll tell you what happened if you want it that way. First of all, don’t hand me any of this I don’t remember shit because I ain’t buying it and neither is the rest of the state. We found the bodies, and that lady you were talking to before you woke up here, she said that the scene was too methodical to be done by someone that’s “insane”. She diagnosed you as being fully competent and that you had no form of scitzo…orienia, or whatever it’s called. The point is that everyone knows that you don’t have what that Lippmann guy says you have. So, cut the bullshit charade that you are trying to feed me and tell me why. Why did you kill them?” I froze at his words while the moment raced. I could only retaliate with a request of more information.
“I don’t know office/sir why don’t you tell me.” I said as sharply as I could, while my insides turned.
“Here, I got these.” He threw an envelope on the bed.
I reached down to get the envelope. As I opened it my pulse quickened. I feared what I was about see. My heart dropped off. I looked at my whole family dead. Sarah had been strung up like a cross in an old dilapidated barn in the middle of a barren field. The kids at her feet as if praying to the almighty to save them from the torment of watching their mother get slaughtered like a sheep at the end of its rope. Her insides dangled from her stomach and her head decapitated with a nail hanging it from the post above while her blood streamed to her kids bending knees. The kid’s hearts had been removed from their chests with precision and placed in a pot that was at their mother’s base to catch the flowing line. I must have died at that minute. The shirt that Lennox had shown me was at the scene.
“We got all four DNA’s from the shirt.” he said as I looked.
“I...I didn’t. I…” I was cut off.
“Don’t even try it! Don’t you fucking try it with me! Confess!” he raged. “The doctor said that you knew you weren’t sick while you were under. That you’ve known all along. And, your poor mother having to deal with all this. You said that you quit “taking the pills a long time ago”, and that when ever you were around her you would take one just to appease her. You said that that night you knew what you were doing. You took them out somehow in the middle of the night without getting any blood on the floor, and disposed of them at the barn. You went to work as usual then made your morning call to cover the phone record check. Later when she and the kids didn’t show up at school or work we got the call. And top it off your knife was there and finger prints galore” he stopped.
“I swear to you I know nothing about this!” I cried out.
“As for motive, money. Plain old money in the form of a life insurance policy. A fucking fifty thousand dollar insurance policy. What,” he said looking at me and scolding my soul with every passing word, “they weren’t worth more than that? Fuck this. I got you son and you’re going down. The trial is in three days. The DA and the whole town wants this dealt with now, not to mention the whole U.S. That’s right boy, you’re famous. It was so elaborate that the whole nation is watching this one. So, just so as you know, an agreement has been made by the DA and the judge that regardless who you get for an attorney the judgment will be guilty by the jury and you are a dead man.”
He grabbed his hat and coat and walked out leaving a deafening sound of a steel door ringing in my ears. That was the last I saw of him.

IV

My Body is in flames. The flesh so sweet. I appeal to the darkness. Echoes of passed voices. Monarchs of an age old dominion come to my side. My flock is ready and this land gone bare. I whip the sheep forward. My true face exists under and asunder. Fill my breath with strength and smoke. May I rise from its elixir. My horns shine in rebellion. Wean off of me children. My milk is sweet and black. My loins burn to pleasure and injure. I am the deliverance to a blood soaked Promised Land. My scepter is long and hard, and evil enough to convince any non believer. Pleasure and Pain is its scribe.
The trial didn’t last very long. My mother got an attorney in my defense. As the devil said, the verdict was already decided. My mother sat in the back and when the jury told the verdict. She was ever the dramatic. I sat the whole time during the case just thinking about my family. I wondered if I had really done these things and maybe everyone was wrong. I really didn’t know about the problem. I never saw it coming. Maybe, I did and just didn’t know. I found out the day after sentencing.
Because the trial was over they allowed my mother in for a one on one full contact visit. My headaches persisted to get worse the doctor had stopped the injections after the trial. When the guard brought her to my cell I could smell her outside the door. She had worn the same perfume for over thirty years. Reminds me of azaleas in the spring for some reason. It opened and there she was, dressed in a red looking business suit with white stilettos on. She walked in and I went to give her a hug. Her return was weak. A chill ran down my back. The only thing that I had left to love me was now giving me the cold shoulder.
“What’s wrong mom?” I asked.
“Can you leave us for a moment sir” she said looking back at the guard.
“Only for a moment ‘Mam’. I’ll be right outside the door.” he walked away from the threshold.
“Thank you sir” she said while turning back to me and calmly sitting me down.
“I must say Devon; they keep this place highly secure. Took me fifteen minutes to get in here.”
“Yeah. I guess that’s why they call it prison.”
“Yeah. I guess so.” she said agreeing
“You know I really didn’t do this mom.”
“I’m sorry to break it to you, but you did do it son.” She said leaning forward to my ear. She began to whisper “All the evidence say’s that you did, the shirt the, knife, but, you see, I’m the one that got the state to say that you were sane. The million dollar insurance policies that I had on you and Sarah were worth it. Me and Doctor Lippmann figured it out. We’ve been together for some time now. That’s why he was the first person I called not because of your illness, but because he’s my fiancé. You see, we’ve been waiting for something like this to happen and when you killed them all, I felt like not only could we profit from it but you’re fate would be better than being alone. I know how much you loved them, but I am due for all the shit I’ve had to put up with, you and your illness. So, he waited until I got off the phone with the police to call in your condition. I figured if we let Doctor Lennox in on the deal, and pay her off, we could walk away without any suspicions. So, now, don’t you agree you’d rather be dead than to go on living knowing the fact that you took their lives?”
She finished and lifted her head from my shoulder and continued speaking loud enough to let the guard hear her.
“So, son, how have they been treating you?”
“Fine.” I said with tears pouring.
“Well then, have you accepted you fate and responsibility?”
“Yes, Mother I have. Can you please leave? I don’t ever want you see me like this again. Just remember that I will always love you and understand and forgive you.”
“Son I…”
“You’re right. Now leave. My head is starting to hurt. I will see you in the end if God forgives you.”
Those are the last words. The end to American tragedy. Self sacrifice is the righteousness in the rational. My self recall and confession has fallen on deaf ears. The needle is switching gear. The safety valve has opened. Falsification. The ending to something that is not of freewill. My hands and feet are tied tight to take the feeding line. I want to go home.
“You fucking pussy take it.” A voice calls out from nothing.
“Who was that?”
“Listen to your self.”
“Am I…”
“Are you? Look to your left and see.”
“See what? What is that?”
“Ha, Ha, Ha, The machine that’s killing you.”
“What? Who are these people watching me? Mom, Lippmann?”
“Are you still blind?”
“Where are you and who are you?”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll kill two birds with one stone. I’m inside you.”
“I’m dying?”
“Tell ya what. Just look at the floor.”
“The flame are rising from underneath. The fucking floor is giving way.”
“Yes son. Yes, it is. You belong to me now.”


-M.L.Lights