Wacko

An experiment of mine

1.

“Where is the damned button.” he was caressing the surface of the wall in search of the light switch.

In the dark, his hand traveled across the wall sounding like little cockroach legs stepping on it. Raising his hand in hope to gently hit the switch he hit the wall two or three times and each of those hits made his face go redder, inside he was getting quite worked up

“God dammed architects with their f*****g tall walls.” he pressed the switch

For a second he went blind, his eyelids were pressed one against the other as tightly as he could but the light still burned his retina

“Arrgh”

He stood still for a second or two, time seemed to be a river that slowly goes on his course. The light became bearable and he unhinged his eyelids a little to see his gray room in a blur. Stepping to his right he bumped his table from which he ate every morning, he heard a cup shake but it did no fall to his relief. With his wide opened, the hazy undulating lines become straight lines again and he could discern his room. There was a chair that served as a clothing wardrobe, his one person bed covered by a thick wool blanket, the AC/DC poster on the wall, the paper hanging with intertwined blue triangles on them, all in the pale bluish light of the LED bulb. Starting for the chair he felt the whole room move together with him, the ceiling and the floor seemed at time to drop one in another’s embrace

“I am never drinking whiskey again.” he lied

With his hand extended to the sides fro balance, he felt like a rope walked in a circus. Small careful steps were getting him closer to his goal, everything in view shook and at times he felt zero gravitation around as if his entire being was swooshed in a bigger space somewhere behind him. At the edge of his bed he got a little bit too excited and losing concentration fell to his knees, his head hit the bed and nothing worse than that happened. Cursing and screaming, he felt sweat travel down from his forehead and his cheeks as two steaming cauldrons, inside of his gut he felt his previous meal gather and rise. Picking up his remaining forces he somehow picked himself up from the floor and tried to sit on the bed, but to his dismay, there was something solid under the blanket

“Okay, this ain’t funny.” he burped

He looked at his bed and was unsure whether to check what was underneath the blanket or just go vomit in the toilet and hope that this is but a hallucination. Closing his eyes and opening them again he still had his eyes locked on a bulge on his bed, so this was not a hallucination, his mind was puzzled so much by this discovery that he stared at his bed blankly. Five minutes passed and he recovered from his meditative state, some actions had to be taken, and he deiced to raise the blanket and see what was there. Extending his arm he gripped the edge of the blanket and slowly lifted it up uncovering a head with brunette hair, two closed eyes, lips that were excruciatingly blue, a gaping mouth. At this point he stopped unsure if he wanted to continue, from underneath a horrendous smell came and a seed of fear was planted in his heart. Gripping all of his forces into his hand he continued to uncover the body, the neck was covered in coagulated blood, and the beginning of the torso had a cut in it, all along the solar plexus the cadaver was cut and his insides were visible. He could not take that anymore, he had a dead body with his organs exposed for all to see, the food from his gut moved to his mouth and he gagged, vomiting all over his floor. In convulsions he stood with his head turned away from the bed and hunched towards the floor, his hands were shaking his ankles were shaking, a string of saliva went down his chin, the room shook no more and he felt cold all over. The tremor soon took over his body and he had to sit down and grip his own body with his hands to warm himself to no avail, the cold did not go and the shivers traveled around his body like waves on a cloudy day at the sea.

“What the f**k is that.” he shrieked

His voice sounded distorted in his ears, he shook on the floor in his own embrace, a dead body with the skin of its torso on the sides and organs, gushy slimy looking bags of grayish pink. This was too much, he was drunk no more, he was too busy being panicked now

“What do I do?” he asked the air in front of him

There was no helping hand to grasp though, he was alone and scared, all his friends too drunk to answer the phone, his parents sleeping, his girlfriend somewhere else

“I need to call the police,” he said to himself

This fixed him a bit, after all this was the most rational thing to do, he had to call the police and let them take care of this.Raising in a rush, he almost ran to his phone and struggled with dialing 911 with his trembling thumb

“911 what is your emergency ?”

“There is a dead body in my bed.”

“Please stay where you are, and name the address.”

“Lincoln street…65… next to a MacDonald’s.”

“A car will be there in five minutes.”

He put down the telephone and exhaled the air that gathered in his lungs, now he only had to wait

2.

“So you see mister Drawton, I don’t particularly enjoy questioning people for more than 5 hours but your case makes me do this kind of things, and you are not making it easier, please tell me the whole story and don’t hold back okay? Save some time for yourself and me.”

“I told you my story multiple times officer, i came from a party, where i partook in drinking, so i was drunk out of my mind, and when i entered my apartment upon trying to get in bed i found a mutilated body under the covers, there is nothing more to this story, and if you are implying in any way that i am a murderer i would ask you not to jump to conclusions.” his head still hurt and all the talking he did for the last 5 hours really tackled with his nerves 

The officer seated in front of him under the light of the lamp which gave him the aura of a superior being that wears a gray tie and a white collared shirt for a uniform with the stains of coffee on his tie being the only factor ruining the whole otherworldly look, sighed and looked at the ceiling for a moment. Nothing kept his interest there and so he looked down trying to figure out how to veer the conversation of the dead end it reached, the tiles of the floor which were collecting a short layer of dust did not give him the right idea.
“Listen buddy.” he decided to improvise” You know, i hate murder, i truly do, it is a mind twisting chore that requires me to work a lot, and i mean a lot, and i can understand some of the murders, you know i get it there are conflicts with circumstances that lead to murder, there are complicated situations, and there are simply people with malicious intent, those cases they give me trouble but they don’t hurt me here” he directed his thumb at his temple.” and here” he lowered the hand with the same finger to his chest "but you know what does? Cases in which simple people, that cause nobody problems, living their uneventful yet useful lives, quiet people that go usually unnoticed, who i discovered to be the best kind of people that are as close to perfection as anyone could be, when people like that are murdered and their bodies mutilated in a way that i could only call barbaric, this kind of cases make me mad , and you mister Drawton drive me mad.”

“ I did not kill that man, how come you don’t listen to me.” he cried with red cheeks, slightly raising off his chair “ I just found a body in my bed.”

“And how can you explain that exactly?”

“ I … I can’t but d****t if there is any blood on my hands I am argh I have no way to defend myself so why don’t we wait for the body to be checked for any signs. “

“Tell me that doesn’t sound suspicious, come on i dare you.”
“It does sound suspicious.” he was grasping for a breath of air stuttering through some of the words” but i didn’t kill him… I didn’t.” 

“Well i see no point in any further investigation at the moment, we’ll give you some time in a cell.”

“Do whatever you want.”

Accompanied by another policeman he was helped into a cell, when the bars closed behind him he finally sighed in relief, his head was killing him right now and his throat was drier than Sahara in July, or Atacama in December, or Namibia in April, or any desert in any month that is warm there aka all of them except for December probably. More than water and a mind that didn’t resemble the Pompeii destroyed by Vesuvius and all the screaming citizen melted by lava, he wanted some sleep to escape the reality that now resembled too much a work of Franz Kafka. that he did on the bed that was attached to the wall by some unsteady looking chains. He set his head on an imitation of a pillow that needed at least another ten years of circus tricks and other illusion related performances until it could pull off a believable recreation of a real pillow. Still not being very exigent at the moment he slept as a man with a clean conscience. When he woke up the light coming from the moon which visited his room by a small high window with bars in front of it, gave him the impression that he was in a nice room, but only until his memory kicked in and ruined the trick of the pale rays. Nothing was on his mind so he started doing exercise, this was his unconscious acting on the possibility that he would go to prison and prepare himself for any incoming battles that apparently occur in a prison, at least in the movies they do. Doing push ups on the moon shone upon spot he felt like he was in a section of a training montage in some action movie about some man that spent 15 years in prison for a mistake and now is ready to deliver some punishment on those responsible. Him being in prison gave him all these impressions because this was too surreal so his mind had to cope with this new environment with some form of humor, but he was unsure how long he will maintain this cover up and won't start going nuts. Time slowed down exactly at this point, now in his perception, all was moving at a pace of a slow motion 10-hour video.
“What is going on?” he said to himself”When will i be free from this nightmare.”

These two questions were only answered by the snorting of a violent teenager in the next cell.

“Maybe now you can be more explicit.”

“I was and am explicit.”

“Okay, I had enough of this toying around with you, how in the hell do you want me to believe that there is a mutilated body in your apartment which nobody but you had access at that moment and you are not the one responsible for the cadaver, come on, this is pushing it.”

“I repeat, i didn’t kill nobody, there is no blood on me, no dirtied conscience.”

“For the love of god or whoever you believe in, stop the bullshit and admit it.”

“I am not the murderer, i am merely a person at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

The officer sighed, it was one of those long exhalations that really make a silence feel meaningful, he rose from his chair and walked a tad around an imaginary circle. The muscles of his face were tense and in them, you could see the future of his face, and it wasn’t pretty. He did not know what to do with the man seated in front, which was now rotating his pupil around the room as if he was looking for the airplane which’s sound caught his attention. His mental state was deranged after spending 2 days in a cell, and he could not concentrate on the situation around, so instead, he paid attention to a fly which was defying gravity and walking vertically on the wall. The little dark insect was free to fly to its favorite garbage can but he couldn’t even leave this building. A bizarre yet mundane depiction of what social constructs like laws and such function in the 21'st century, bizarre because it was his first time seeing it up close and mundane because it happened on the whole surface of the earth in one way or another depending on the place and time. Looking at the officer who now stopped and was facing the opposite wall.

{What is so interesting about that wall? Looks like every other wall and is no different from them, a perfect wall that fits well into the mold and does what all walls are taught to do in wall school, the nice walls at least that are not in their experimental phases. When will i go out of here? Probably never, what a funny joke hahahahah} his inner monologue spiraled into a fit of laughter that for some reason did not want to stop.

The immediate effect was that the corners of his lips arched and his eyes narrowed and he did one of those stopped in the middle laughs that sound like an inexperienced cough making it half way to the real stage of life. The officer turned and looked puzzled.

“Are you okay?”

“Yep, all good man, only my mind making me laugh.”

“Don’t see too many reasons for laughter or merriment in your life right now so why ?”

“It’s funny that from all the places in which i could be right now i am right here in this place looking at you and thinking to myself about being imprisoned for a wrongdoing that is not mine and having to spend time in a cell with the dark side of my unconscious that is a marvelous place filled with fears and idiotic past situations in which i was doomed, because this is how the world works and accepting that fact when i know inside myself that this fact should not be accepted, this absurd level of irony with so many layers it could serve as a nice cake for like 5 marriages, this irony is what makes this whole situation more comical than a genetically engineered comedian formed out of all comedians that ever lived. What a ramble i just pulled, well i hope you got what is so funny to me, if not so be it, you are then probably closed in your mind as we all are closed and can’t reach to each other even when we spill all of our adjectives nouns and verbs on them, which haha, makes the irony even worse and ha ha, i can barely contain.”

He shrieked and shuddered from laughter, it was a laugh to end all laughs with its stomach spasms, tears, jaw clenching, shaking, stomping, beating and salivating. All the officer could do was to look at the man and think about inviting a priest or a medium to cleanse the aura of this room after this wacko would be taken to a mental facility.

3.

The car is shaking, clearly, the driver has little experience, or simply isn’t caring enough to drive people to mental facilities. In the back of the car, he is looking at the aluminium, walls of the van and wondering if any of this is real, after all he was a free man weeks ago and now he is convicted of murder and is sentenced to spend his time in a mental facility because the psychiatrist deemed him legally insane. He did not feel crazy though, not one bit, he wasn’t delirious anymore, his speech was back to normal, it was the effect of the cell on him that turned him into a blabbermouth with a vivid imagination that happened to not make any sense in investigation that was carried away by a man of logic and reason. Next to him both to the right and to the left were policemen looking bored and thinking about dinner and making love to their wives, they had their guns and batons, so forcing them to comply with his strong desire to be free again was his backup plan, which he kind of didn’t expect to work. Talking to them would also be useless because they would pay no attention to the words of a supposed madman.

{ There’s nothing else i could do, any monkey business and they’ll put that restricting clothing on me and all chances to escape will be out of that small window in the front. Well, i have to grab one of the batons or better yet a gun, but the guns are in the holsters and one is on the opposite side so i won’t reach for it. Hmm do i go for the gun or baton, the baton is a safer bet as i can hit both of them in their noggins fast, and their crotches are open too so i can deliver a debilitating hit that will punch the air out of them giving me time to grab a gun , and they say i am crazy, with plans like this i am clearly the sane one here}

None of his thoughts were ironic, so breathing in, he darted his hand to the left and grabbed the baton of the left officer, pulling it right out the belt and then with a fierce force he didn’t expect to have crushed it down to the officer crotch. The scream of pain and the subsequent fall of the left policemen to the floor made the right one turn around and get smashed right between his eyes followed by a hit along the ear that muted and blinded him. No time was lost and the guns, two glocks 17 were out of the holsters, and before he could manage to stop himself used on their owners. The crying was horrifying but his mind did not care, at this point, the car stopped and the driver got out of the driver seat with a baton in hand and slowly approach the behind of the van, ready to hit the assailant as he would exit. Bullets flew through the metal carcass, and the driver ran away trying to evade begin shot, in his had there was a little radio phone to which receptor he almost screamed.

“We have a dangerous mental patient, handling at least two guns, there might be wounded officers, please send support to … a field like 12 miles from Ablerto town.”

He kicked the door open and jumped out of the back, they were in the middle of a field, and the driver was at least 16 feet away and so he shot in the direction where he was, only damaging some dandelions. The driver with his hands locked behind his head in an automatic defense reaction waited to feel lead entering his body but to his amazement, it did not happen. He shot some more and the bullets pierced the ground and some strands of grass, then the gun was empty, the second pistol followed suit and was emptied into the field.

“F**k.” he screamed

“Stay calm.”

“I have a baton don’t try to come up with rules.”

“I have one as well so …”

“It’s a duel then. “

“A duel? What are you insa… oh you are, still, i won’t fight you.”

“Then i will.”

With that, he started approaching the driver with the baton in his right hand.

“Are you serious about this?”

“Yes.”

Fear and confusion filled the driver, fear was more prominent though so he got up from the grass scattered some of it from his forearm and acted as the saner man and started running away.

“I’ll get ya.”

No response followed as the driver wanted to end this whole ordeal, but he had to be careful not to run too far away as to be here when the other policemen should arrive. Since school, he had no running exercise ever this combined with his career as a driver resulted in a sweaty shirt and hard breathing 13 minutes into the cat and mouse game

‘You can’t run any longer, can’t you.”

“Shut up, you can’t tell me how much i can run for.” he was worried

“Maybe you could stop and fight it out like a man.”

“That’s sexist.” he tried to joke to gain some confidence and lie his body into running for some more

But his stamina reached Mariana Trench levels of depth, and he had to stop with the insane guy not far behind him. He huffed and felt saliva gathering in his mouth so he spit it out

“Wait,” he said “I’ll fight you just give me a second.”

“Okay.”

{Damn i did not expect this to work} the driver thought}

He sat down on the fresh grass and looked at the sky half filled with clouds.

“Is it full ?”

“What?”

“The sky is the sky filled with clouds or lacks clouds?”

“Erm, half full i guess, does it matter?”

“Of course, it matters.”

“In what way?”

“You see if it’s half full i should think that killing you is a positive experience and if it is half empty then it’s a sorrowful experience through which i must go in my formative process as a human.”

“You are insane.”

“And i see that you are ready to fight.”

With the right hand raised he ran at the driver who barely reflected the baton by hitting it with his own baton, he then let go first and moved a little behind, if he were to really fight he decided to play it safe and defend himself until the arrival of additional forces. Another attack and another parry, and then the batons danced one deflecting the other, a passionate dance of violence. Sirens filled the air and he turned around away from the driver who was finally happy

“Seems that our duel has to be postponed.”

The driver only sighed and looked at the ground

“I must run, but we will meet again.”

“Just stay put, you don’t really have much to do outside a facility and there you will be taken care off, there’s no need to run.”

“Still, i have to, i am not insane and therefore a mental facility is not the place for me, and if the government wants to influence me it will have to catch me first.”

He ran towards the horizon

“Stop it, stop running.”

“You’ll never catch me alive.”

The mushy ground of the forest was under his feet and he could feel the dew that resided in the little patches of grass. Roots were everywhere and fallen leaves from last fall were imprinted in the earth. The light seemed to be embellished in a smoke as if incense was burned there for hours. His chest hurt and his lungs felt as if they had spikes in them ready to burst open but he still ran. The policemen who failed to catch him in the clearing now had to follow him through the thick forest, they were not far but to catch him they would have to keep up with his pace. He turned and saw them and in a spark of genius or better said insanity decided to throw the guns he took from them, forgetting that his aim is terrible of course. One gun hit a tree and fell down with a thud and another actually damaged a bird’s nest 
“Are you serious with that?”

No commentary from his side followed that remark 
“We have to be smart about this,” said one of the policemen

“You have a plan?”

“Yeah, there are more of us so we should circle him, how does that sound?”

“Sure, everyone heard ?”

“Yeah,” two other policemen said

Their row broke and two people went in a diagonal line, one to the left the other to the right. He didn’t get the memo because he wasn’t really supposed to get one and thus he found himself in front of a fist that was bent on hitting and it hit, the stars he saw were beautiful. 
“Damn, i wasn’t supposed to hit him.”

“It’s okay he’ll live.”

“Finally, haven’t run like this since academy.”

Everyone laughed and the atmosphere eased a bit during the setting of handcuffs on his hands

“You might have arrested me but my mind roams free the fields of consciousness, your idea of me being crazy does not define me, it merely affects the sensible world but my ideas are true to myself and in there i know that i am a man of free thought and law.”
“Whatever you say”

“Philistine, you find reasons to laugh at me, but my worth as a human is being dirtied by your actions, and that is no occasion for celebration but a call for grief.”
“Okay, he is totally having a fit right now.”

“If truth be a fit of madness then, by all means, this is madness, but your measure of reality is distorted by the instances that you serve, you are living a life of lie and in that lie you find comfort, and that comfort always needs sacrifices and i am one of them, a sheep put to fire for an illusion.”

“We should get this guy faster to the asylum, he definitely needs some medication, he already thinks we are some kind of fanatics and is talking like is a prophet.”

“A martyr dude.”

“Oh yeah my mistake.”

“But i agree this is getting way too dramatic and i am not into it.”

They grabbed him by the shoulders got him up and hand in hand escorted him to the car. Then they drove him to the nearest asylum and after completing the paperwork left fro their homes where they enjoyed the company of their loved ones. He forgot his name soon, and the name of the man he killed for the simple reason of not liking how he took care of his clothing, and the days before going mad. Now he was only called a wacko and no longer was part of human society.

 

Author's Note

grammar problems ahead, your thoughts are welcome