Alone

Alone

         I stood up and started like everyone else does, “Hi my name is Barry Tallon” and then I stuttered.

         “It's okay if you feel uncomfortable you don't have to speak,” is what Mary said, but I saw her eyes.  Those deep brown eyes said she would be disappointed, that I was pushing her patience, which she always claimed she had tons of.  There was that time I got her upset just by staring at her for a couple of minutes.  I swear her hair looked like it was about to ignite in flames.  I lived for those moments.  I lived to see people break down right in front of me cause I pushed them to far.  It usually doesn't take much, a long stare or a few small or minor “accidents”, like dropping a few jelly covered crackers on their nice new carpeting.  That was one of my finer moments, they were so angry, but it was at a party and it was an “accident”, so their anger just stewed in their heads until afterwards.  They were never able to lay a finger on me, especially since I never returned to their apartment.  That's one of the problems with being the one who ends up making people angry or upset.  That is perhaps one of the reasons I don't do it anymore.

         Anyway, you might be wondering why I said all that.  Well, I was annoying Mary with her other pet peeve: nervous people.  I haven't told her that I don't actually have stage fright cause that would ruin my acting job and my fun.  Anyway, I told her I would continue talking cause it was my turn, I had turned it down for a few weeks already.  I glanced around the circle of chairs in the blue box like room before I started again and the thought hits me: “am I really like them?  Am I really like these paper-thin people before me?”  The answer was not so reassuring: “You are now.”

         So I told them the whole story.  When the problems started, when I first noticed, and how it took a long time to convince people that I had a problem.  People have a hard time believing a clown or “actor” like myself.  The funny thing was that as I listened to myself I realized I was different from the people in the circle.  They starved themselves; I just don't get hungry.

         See the people before me were anorexic i.e. they thought they were fat and tried to starve themselves.  Me on the other hand was diagnosed with what's called chronic depression so the doc gave me an anti-depressant.  Unfortunately it had a nasty side effect: you loss your appetite.  It might not sound so bad, but it turns eating into a chore.  A chore that is essential to the continuation of your life.  My psychiatrist didn't believe me and truthfully neither did my friends.  They figured I was joshing them.  Then I ended up looking for a support group and hoped they would be more helpful than anyone else was.  The only support group for people with eating problems is those for anorexics and bulimics, or at least that is what Mary told me.  Who knew that she lead a support group for anorexic people?

         So there I was pouring my story out into this circle of paper-thin women in this blue room when there was a sound at the door…



         Knock, knock

         “Huh?  Who's there?”

         “Don't worry Mr. Tallon, It's just me, with your pills.”

         Creak

         “Oh, um, yes.  I guess it is that time again isn’t.  Well as always Nurse Joy it is a pleasure to have you join us.”

         Glug, glug

         “And who am I joining?”

         Slurp

         “Huh? Oh, well, me and these lovely ladies.”

         “You mean there's more than one sharing that small space with you, Mr. Tallon?”

         “I thought it was obvious by now Nurse Joy.”

         “Hmm………Sometimes I wonder how you can live in a white box?”

         “White?  I could have sworn it was blue a second ago.  Oh well they’re white now.  Nothing I can do about that.”

         “You're always a funny aren't you, Mr. Tallon.  Do you want me to place the pill cup with the rest?”

         “Yes…Yes I think this one will definitely look good in the circle…Thank you Nurse.”

         “Okay.  I’ll see you again at supper-time.  Bye.”

         Creak



         And then another paper-thin lady joined the group.  She had apparently got lost in the blue hallways.  The big friendly nurse at the front helped her find the room.  Of course she had brought treats, those soft blondie brownies with chocolate chips, as many new members often do, but they never get eaten.  They were really only trying to get rid of their own extra food.  The stupid bitches never thought or realized that the group is full of people like them!  If they wanted to get rid of their food the stupid size zero freaks should have brought it to a soup kitchen, but then again these prissy women would never have thought of that.  Instead they just torture themselves and the other women in the group.  People do such a good job torturing themselves.  Perhaps that's why I don't anger people anymore; they do worse things to themselves.

         So, where was I?  Oh yeah, the new lady.  Anyway after she introduces herself Mary tells us to “mingle” while she goes out for a sec.  Before she got the chance to leave there was a knock on the door….



         Creak

         “Mr. Tallon?  Hello it’s time for our session.”

         “Oh, hello doctor.  Um, sorry to tell you this, but Mr. Tallon isn’t here.”

         “Then who am I speaking to?”

         “Well, I would think that is obvious doctor.  I’m Mary.  I think we need to talk about Barry.”

         “What do we need to talk about?”

         “It seems to me that Barry is only getting worse.  I put the two of us in this insane asylum to get me out of his body and get him help.  So far you have only fed his imaginary world.”

         “How have we done that Mary?”

         “The paper pill cups the nurses leave only encourage him to make up new people, or in your view personalities, that run amuck inside this head.  He thinks we're a support group for people with eating disorders.  He doesn't understand the difference between the world in his head and the world outside of it.”

         “What do you want me to do?”

         “I want you to get rid of those cups!  I think that is quite a simple solution, don’t you doctor?”

         “Mary, what do you think would happen if I got rid of the cups?”

         “Well…I think the other people would disappear.”

         “And I think he would make me a killer in his imaginations.”

         “So, what are you going to do?!”

         “Same thing as yesterday, leave them alone until I find a way to get through to Mr. Tallon.  And since he seems to be busy I'll come back later.  Goodbye Mary.”

         “BYE DOCTOR!”



         Mary came back from talking to that doc that shows up occasionally.  Still haven’t figured out his role in this place, but I will eventually.  Mary seemed quite upset, so I tried to annoy her by looking at her, well more accurately I was staring at her.  And when she noticed her fury was totally unleashed on us.  Mary opened her purse and pulled out a pistol.  She started shooting everyone in the group, but me and was yelling that this was for my own good.  She finally pointed the gun at herself, but there were no more bullets.  I stared at her dumbfounded, this generous and loving woman who I mistreated had just gone nuts.  This is perhaps another reason why I don’t make people upset anymore.

         After staring at each other for a while she went for her purse again, but I reached over and grabbed it before she did.  I searched inside and found an ammo clip.  She jumped me in the hope of getting it back.  We struggled and eventually she pulled it from my clenched fists.  And in one quick motion she loaded the gun and shot herself in the temple.

         Doc returned to my room later that evening only to find me huddled in the corner and sobbing.  He told me later I kept repeating one line, “I am alone now.”  Eventually he calmed me down.  After listening to my story about how Mary killed everyone including herself the Doc noticed that the paper pill cups were all ripped into pieces.

         In the following years Doc felt guilty giving Mary the idea.  “…He would make me a killer…” rings in the ears of his mind.  We talk to each other about that day.  I was moved into a room with a couple of other patients, but I still feel lonely no matter how many people are around and I sometimes slip back into the stories of my mind.  Mary and others remain dead except in mine and Doc’s memories.  I might get permission to leave tomorrow, but you know that by now.  Just like you know they shouldn’t let me go this time.  After all you are Mary's replacement and you just want what you think is best for me…