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I gotta say if one thing annoys me, it's people who wanna follow the rules of society, but can't tell me why. I mean, it's all well and good if you agree with what they're telling you to agree with, but you should have a reason. You should be able to support yourself and prove others who're so "wrong" wrong. If it isn't right that I put the serpent into my arm, or the words, or any of it, then they should be able to tell me why. But they couldn't. Kinda funny really.
Yulling and Jerrim dropped me off at that shrink's office and next thing I know, I'm plunked down with one of them tellin me what's wrong with me. Every time we came down to it, I would ask what the problem was. He'd say it wasn't socially acceptable. I'd ask why. He'd say it wasn't socially acceptable again. This went on for a while and happened about six times. When I first went in, he asked if I knew why I was there. I told him what the reason was, cause I knew the reason. Reason's because when people see somethin society told them's wrong, they get antsy. They get upset. In theory, anyway. It's a disruption to community. That's what they tell themselves at any rate so they feel good. The real thing? I'll tell you what their real problem with it is...
It's that they gotta shut the speaker up before everyone starts listening.
See the funny thing is, with all the places I'd been goin with Kammi or by myself lately, I met a lot of people. Mostly my age, or younger, cause anyone who was older than around 18 got shot way back when. That was one of the things they tried to bring up, that I watched my parents get shot right in front of me. Sure, it hurt and messed me up a little, but what can you do? You can't sit around and sulk over it your whole damn life, you gotta go out and do stuff. I told the shrink that wasn't it, and they didn't seem like they believed me, but what do I care what they believe, ya know? They can't even tell me what's wrong with cutting.
What I don't get is how it's fine to pay money to have holes punched in you, or your fur shaved and dyed in places, but if anyone tries it on their own it's all to hell. If I'd payed money to have someone take a knife and cut me, I bet they wouldn't care. I saw someone once with so much stuff in em, they couldn't talk straight. Bet they couldn't see straight either, and some of the holes looked infected. I mean, the hell is with that, right? I know my knife, I know it's clean. And so the art to me is ugly to them...so what! Their art can be ugly to me too, right? But hell, I'm ranting...
I got it down to where the shrink finally admitted that it wasn't me they were worried bout, but exactly what I'd said- the community. Excuse me while I bitch piss moan and break my fucking pencil. But I just find that rather obnoxious. I mean, how can they trust society in times where half the population gets shot on religious grounds? Can you really say anything's right or wrong because of that? I think they're just singling me out because I was handed to them. If someone handed one of the gunman to them, they might turn their frustration at not bein able to fix the universe on that guy. But instead, here I am. And I think I'm fine. They said I was outta control, but it's like a friend once told me. It takes so much control just to hold your body still, to know it's going to hurt and bleed and do it anyway...to know what the future's gonna hold with how people stare and what it means to you. To do all that takes a lot of control. Can't be out of control on something that takes more control than anything. That made no sense...
Outside the hospital window is a bee. It's just flying around, and I'm watchin it. The window's latched shut tight, otherwise I might open it and see if I could catch the bug. Bees here don't look like the bees the Humans know. They're bigger, and they have two sets of wings, and the colour's not that weird yellow. It's green, and a little streaked. The humans called em' bees though, cause apparently Earth bees and Hekshano bees do the same things. I dunno, some people don't like bees. But I do. It crawls along the glass like it really knows what it's doing, and if one bee dies, none of the others get upset. They only get upset if their queen bee dies. I wonder, ya know? We're a lot like bees. Different bee colonies'll get upset if a forigner enters. Totally attack and kill. I guess maybe the Human bees and the Hekshano bees weren't cut out to comingle. Cause we sure got our colony's ass kicked. Now all our Queen bees are dead, and we dunno what to do, so we're attackin eachother. But there's bees like me, who just keep on workin. Keep on goin. I mean, can you really affourd to let yourself die?
Sure, it's nice to help some of the other bees who aren't going totally psycho at you and bring them food. And sometimes they bring you food too. But I guess when you've got a colony full of psychos and only a few still bringin in food to live, the psychos get you eventually.
I read a book once, one of the banned ones imported from Earth and translated into the only Earth language I know- Japanese. It was called 1984, all about a world where the society was split up to teach you what to know. I feel like we're all in 1984 too. I know it was a long time ago, longer than I can even figure out in my head. But I feel like we're all there. We're taught who to hate. I don't hate the Humans though, like they want us to. I can't. They're just doing something they think needs to be done. I think they should be stopped...but...If there was a way to do it without killing them I'd like to see it. They got families too. Lives. A whole bee-colony. If we met under difference circumstances, I'm sure the two types of bees could get along.
But then again, just like 1984 said. Sanity is statistical.
I think I shouldn't have argued so much, ya know? Maybe if I'd shut up and believed em I wouldn't have to write this next bit, but I didn't want to. I gotta stay here another two weeks. Just crazy, man. Just crazy. Since I don't believe in their little society bullshit...that rasberries are blue and lemons can turn pink...i gotta stay here and be examined and hit with pills and...aw hell. I don't know.
Feels like they changed the sheets while I left. I'll probobly need to find a new hiding place for my stuff, unless I want it taken while they're changing the mattress. Wow, that would suck, if they searched the room while I was gone. Kinda ironic, I had to get commited to get paranoid.
I'm glad I brought this book. But maybe I should hold off on the serpent until I'm free to go.
They gave me the rest of the day to get used to the place, so my door's unlocked. But one of the two -Yulling and Jerrim- is sitting outside to follow me around if I go anywhere. That, and I can't get outta the wing without signing out. This bites...but...I guess exploring the wing's better than nothing.
I saw a girl today, on the way back from the room. She was being pulled down the hallway screaming and kicking. She was my species, with cloudy blueish fur and eyes like ice chips. Her fur was dirty, though, worse than mine even on really bad days. And she glared, she glared like she was gonna rip the heart out of the next person to speak word to her, if only she could get her hands out of the lock-down grip of the guys dragging her off. She looked at me, and started twisting again. She reminded me a little of Lyika, and I smiled and waved to her. Jerrim and Yulling grabbed my sleeves faster than I knew it and pulled my hand down. I guess they thought I was going to hit them or something, I don't know. So I winked at the girl. All of a sudden, she stopped twisting and lay still as a dead weight, limp. They kept dragging her along because she wouldn't get up. It was like she had just gone into a trance or something. One of the guys dragging her mentioned somethin- Waxy state. I mighta believed him...but...
Her eyes followed me carefully all down the hall.
Those aren't the eyes of someone who's gone nuts.
It makes me wonder...How many more bees who kept working are kept blocked up in these white-stucco catacombs?
There was no way he was going to sit around and lie still for the entire duration of the time he was kept here. But then again, there was very slim a chance there was anyplace for him to go to. Kyotoshi's options were severely limited. If he drank the remaineder of the brandy, what was to say there wouldn't be a day that he'd want to get rid of in the future? What if they started pulling all sorts of "treatments" on him like in that other book he'd read...One flew over the cuckoo's nest? Kneeling on the floor before the locked window, Kyotoshi rested his head in one hand and stared out at the singular bee who was poking along the wall, wings beating in a fuzzy blur. He grunted and backed his ears a little. How the hell was he supposed to keep sane in a sanitarium?
Idolly, he wished he had brought music with him. Sometimes he could hear himself in the words, and it relaxed him. Knowing he wasn't alone in how he felt or thought was important...Here he had the horrific sense of abandoned individuality of thought. Everyone here was grouped together under a common catagory, then broken into smaller ones, then even smaller and smaller ones, until all that remained was a lone individual. Could they see beyond the one to use other patients' information and help a wider variety? He doubted it. Scratching at the serpent absentmindedly, a thought that he found rushing more and more frequently through his brain cropped up again. The sense of being alone was so huge and dangerous...why didn't they let the people who "suffered" help one another? It made more sense to Kyotoshi- someone else who made mistakes in life akin to his would have a much better idea of what he would need to do to feel better. But, he thought back at himself with a sigh, I guess they just don't think about that...
Perhaps it was too dangerous to have the people here realize they could be alright on their own terms. Hell, it would put the place and all these people out of buisness. In these times, people needed to feel a purpose. A sense of fullfillment. If they didn't have that, why were they even standing? They had all seen friends and family gunned down in front of their faces, they all carried that weight on their shoulders. Sometimes it would be crushing them, a block of cement pressing down on their spines until they were broken down into deformed dwarves dragging their feet through life. But taking out their pain on others wasn't the right way of dealing with it.
Kyotoshi listened to the sound of the bee's legs ticking against the glass as it tried to get into the room. He reflected on how it must have thought there was something worthwhile inside, and how ironic that was. People voluntarily commited themselves, and to what end? They weren't crazy, to cry and have nightmares after seeing what they saw. To be angry. It wasn't insane. They were trying to apply the norms of a society built upon peace to a time built upon war.
If there was a light breeze here, Kyotoshi thought to himself, writing bits of what felt like disjointed poetry in his head, Maybe it would mean something to these bones full of holes....Damn, I can't lie here anymore. I have to get out and do something, even if it's just pace the hallways. Sure it'll look crazy, but that's what I'm here for after all...To let them tell me I'm crazy. Climbing to his feet, Kyotoshi let his fingertips trail along the wall as he stood. Two furred digits leaveing trails of oil on the clear window. The bee bounced against his fingertips and Kyotoshi blinked a moment, watching. Holding out his hand, he pressed only his tumb to the glass. The bee landed, latched to the smooth surface, its tiny insect head poking around the outline of his thumb...inspecting. Kyotoshi smirked at it.
"You and me, pal, we both want this window open."
The bee poked along his thumb for a few more moments, antenea twitching and wings folded against its furry back. Kyotoshi pulled back his hand and the bee took off again. He watched it fly, arching in a zigzag pattern above his window and away into the air. He backed away to the door, finally tearing his eyes from the window. I wonder where he goes when I'm out of site, he thought. And does he think the same?
The door didn't make a sound when it opened, swung on perfectly oiled hinges. A thought struck Kyotoshi...that perhaps the would have been a sort of alarm if he was leaving the room. If it made no sound, what replaced that alarm, if anything? Cameras? He was only a temporary patient...for the next few weeks. But it didn't silence suspicions. If they were reserving the right to tell him what was and wasn't right, he didn't think they were above watching him while he slept and bathed. The mental image of a fat, greasy-furred camera-jockey getting off to him showering assualted Kyotoshi and he cringed, vowing from now on to shower while wearing a towel. Damn, he really was going to go paranoid if he stayed here very long.
Jerrim or Yulling, he still didn't know which, leapt to his feet as the door opened, intercepting Kyotoshi's path before he even had time to fully realize it. The yellow furred Hekshanian was taken aback and staggered backwards into his room at the sudden movement towards him. Holding up two hands, he tried to motion for the other to relax. He was glad it was the guy, the chick seemed a little more anal retentive. "Hey, cool down. I ain't gonna run straight into the far wall or nothin. I'm anxiety, man, not schizophrenia."
The orange furred orderly backed his ears and stepped aside slightly, allowing Kyotoshi to walk through. Scratching his head, Kyotoshi raised his eyebrows. The short man dressed in white was maybe a year or two younger than he was, and his fur was exactly the colour of a melted creamsicle. There wasn't any nametag on his uniform, and Kyotoshi felt awkward not being able to distinguish one from the other except by sight and gender. "Say, what's your name anyway?"
Both ears perked up, the short haircut Jerrim -or Yulling- had showing the muscles rippling against his scalp. He opened his mouth a moment to say something but it looked instead like he'd swallowed a fish. He seemed to think with his mouth open, Kyotoshi thought, like a crocodile.
"First or last, dude, I don't care."
"Terry Yulling," the orange male said with final authority, deciding on both. He stood in such a way that Kyotoshi felt dwarfed, even though he was taller. Although jumpy the Hekshanian might have been, he sure as hell was well trained. Kyotoshi scowled slightly at him.
"Terry, huh? That's what the Rulerists call you?" It seemed the Humans sometimes had trouble pronouncing Hekshanian names. They would give replacement names instead to make the speech easier on them. Considering a lot of the police force and administration at this point consisted of Humans, it wasn't a surprise.
"Don't they call you something?" The tone was even, cool, acusing. It was as if Yulling was daring him to say they didn't give him a name, daring him to show he was above anyone. When everyone was forced down to such a low level, it was a painful hell to see or feel anyone trying to rise above that. Instinctively, they would be dragged back down and not permitted to fly.
Kyotoshi thought of the bees going insane without a queen. It was as if he had just walked into the area with food for larve, and asked if he was going to eat it or not like the rest of them. He figured he'd better play along, or he'd be stung to death. Kyotoshi lied. "They call me Kyle," Creamy orange fur seemed to puff up a moment in aggitation before calming down and pressing into a sleek hide on Yulling's body. "What's your real name though?"
"Taikin," Yulling answered without hesistation. His hands folded behind his back and his shoulders loosened slightly. Kyotoshi picked up on it quickly and took note. Yulling was feeling more on friendly terms. That must have been unusual in the ward. Probobly against policy. Silently, Kyotoshi thanked any immortals there might be for being a generally easy person to get along with.
"There a place around here a guy can get a smoke?" He leaned his weight on one foot more than the other and hooked his thumb into the band of his hospital pants. He didn't have pockets, although it would have been nice. When he spoke, Kyotoshi glanced around, as if expecting a sign to hang on the wall reading 'This way for the smoking area.'
A conscise shake of the head was all he recieved from Yulling. "It's against hospital policy."
"You're gonna tell me," Kyotoshi smirked, "That there ain't a single doctor here who goes out for a cig once in a while?" When Yulling's face remained impassive, completely without change, Kyotoshi rolled his eyes and backed his ears, waving a hand airily. "Well fine, you don't need to lie to me or nothin. Can a guy go for a walk at least?"
"How far." The tone was clipped and precise. Kyotoshi nearly jumped at how quickly Yulling had replied, or how mechanical he sounded in doing so.
"Not far, craika. Just to the end of the ward, maybe a little past. Or you gonna watch me while I piss, too?"
"The door is locked, you won't go beyond this area."
"Okay, hell, so the door's locked! I'm walkin to the door, alright?" Kyotoshi was getting slightly fed up. What the hell difference did it make? The place was crawling with doctors anyway, and it was fairly easy to tell he was a patient. In the cloths and all as he was.
Yulling nodded precisely, and Kyotoshi waved a hand in thanks, heading down the hallway without another word. He remembered the girl he'd seen screaming and kicking and followed the hallway in the direction they'd dragged her. He passed the sign out desk, and the nurse told him she wouldn't open the door unless he had an attendant. Kyotoshi simply waved her off and kept moving.
A few feet before the door, he paused, peering through the glass which was cross-hatched with wires to prevent break-ins. Through that hallway was one of the treatment wards...Electroshock, he thought. Even if it had been proven benificial, Kyotoshi still growled at the thought. A few dozen volts of electricity straight into the brain inducing a seizure couldn't possiably be healthy. Scowling, he paced anxiously to and from the door, chancing a look through it but never actually pausing and looking around through the hatched glass.
A muffled series of swears and shouts came through the thick door, and Kyotoshi perked his ears and turned around, watching.
"Goddamn you motherfuckers let ME OUT OF HERE! NO! NO! I WON'T GO! GET THE FUCK AWAY! You peices of shit can't have me now! I won't GO!"
Kyotoshi moved closer to the glass, absolutely sure now of who the voice had to be. He stared through, face inches from the cool surface and breath fogging slightly. The silver floor and white walls on the other side seemed to be something out of a MC Escher painting, never ending and never changing, perfectly symetrical on both sides. Kyotoshi watched with wide eyes as more crashes and shouting clawed through the thick door, muffled.
Breaking the perfection, a blue tinted hand came around the edge of one of the doors and gripped tightly. Kyotoshi stared, for he could do nothing else. Another hand, the other side of the door. Someone's face now, and part of a torso. Arms encircled her waist, trying to drag her back. More arms over her shoulders, but they didn't have her. Screaming and shouting, it was the same girl from before. Kyotoshi continued to stare as she whipped her head back and forth, snapping with her teeth at the arms around her, pulling her. When her head turned towards him, their gazes locked again. He was trapped inside her icey glare, and she suddenly stopped fighting. Time felt like it had frozen as they stared at one another. It was as if a question had been sent screaming through the air into both of their heads. You're sane, what are you doing here?
The hands holding her broke through the frozen time and dragged her back. Her glare was still fixed on Kyotoshi, who stood without moving on the other side of the glass, like a bee at the window.
