Insanity

A Story by ZeStrange

I sit upon my metal chair precisely placed mid-room, along with my companions, my good friends gloom and doom; not much fun are these two, but I suppose they'll do as time tick-tocks away each day while I just sit around brood.

Every dot on the ceiling I have counted thrice. My only fear within my room is the filthy vermin mice that scurry ‘cross the tile floor in the dark of the night, unaware of their good fortune " I’m not allowed a knife.

You boldly step into my world, nervous look upon your face, knowing things I’ve done in life that nothing can erase. Your poise is most impeccable, you’ve style and you’ve grace, but you can’t fool me, pretty lady, in your voice I hear the haste.

You gaze upon your clipboard instead of in my eyes. Your trendy new designer clothes are cleverly disguised by a stark white standard lab coat that all the staffers wear and the lifeless scent within my space is replaced by perfume in your hair.

What is it that you know of life from behind your desk, in your tenth floor brand new office furnished with its own address, and a great big picture window out of which you gaze while you sip your fancy latte and admire city haze?

I don’t have the luxury of a life that busies me. Time is my enemy, and not in its brevity; it is the longevity while I stay trapped inside of me. Death won’t come despite my plea. Stay here long enough, you’ll see….everyday is hell for me.

I’ve one thing in my favor; I’m a brilliant man, and I’ve wasted not my days in here, as I’ve devised a plan to escape from life, this room and you, I’ll tell you what I plan to do but you must vow your secrecy or they will soon be onto me and then I never will get free to live in the cursed blasphemy that all the perfect people see as the perfect life.

Your time is up? What a pity. Well, go then, back to your big city. I predict it won’t take long, only minutes once you’re gone, that you’ll forget me and my story ‘til you need a taste of glory, then you’ll be back to see me, to pick my brain and study me for your winning theory on living nightmares…such as me.

Now you’ve made me angry and yes, my dear, you’d better leave. No need to be so frightened, I’m strapped down well here in my seat. Help is on the way for you, I hear the jingling sound of keys from the faithful guard man come to grant you your reprieve.

I sit upon my metal chair, your perfume still within the air but I cannot feel or care, I’ve only my thoughts and glassy stare. They’ve put more drugs within my skin, small price to pay for all my sins, I got off easy by being insane but I wish for poison in my veins to spare me from this private hell and pathetic room in which I dwell.

I lie atop my hospital bed while elusive thoughts swim through my head and drool I feel runs down my face it’s better than that can of mace they spray me with from time to time like I committed some new crime. I am harmless to them, you see (but only until I get free).

Let’s finish soon what we began and I’ll tell you of my genius plan there’s something big in it for you if you can do what I say to. I’ll see you later, then my dear, and trust me love, you need not fear. I was wealthy when they caught me, and wealthy I’ll be when I leave. You’re the key to my new freedom, your shiny pen is my reprieve. Money can buy anything but to me it means nothing, so you’ll have all with which I was born if you sign your name on the right forms.

That’s it, my dear, the smile I seek. I’ll see you same time here next week.