Chapter Six
"I cry out to God seeking only his
decision
Gabriel stands and confirms
I've created my own prison"
-Creed "My Own Prison"
I had been given a lot to think about. Too much, in fact, the images and ideas crammed into my mind, begging for release. I could practically feel the neurons firing overtime, and if I could just get one pill, maybe I could silence the madness for just a little while. Until I could get it together again. One time couldn’t hurt, right? I had to sit down, before the crowding in my brain knocked me down. Breathe, I told myself. Just breathe and try to relax.
I managed to dissipate the cloud for a little while, and I found myself sitting on the back patio, my head on my knees, in the same place where I’d had that terrifying episode this morning. I thought back to that moment. No one had given me an explanation as to what had brought it on. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever experienced before, not even just before I had gone into the surgery. It had felt like I was reacting to… something.
I felt the color drain from my face as my brain automatically began to follow that line of thought. It was like I’d stepped out of my mind and could watch myself think. Maybe they were slipping something into my food. Maybe there was something in the water. What was this place anyway? I hadn’t done any research, hadn’t looked into it. Just taken the doctor at face value. I could feel the anxiety smothering me again. I needed… I needed it.
"Welcome to the Hotel California," a voice beside me said. I looked up to see Jazz sit down next to me.
"What do you want?" I muttered. He smiled amusedly.
"Got a craving, huh?" he asked.
"No," I said forcefully, my head on my knees again. "I’m not an addict."
"Of course not. You’re just here for the hell of it."
"Shut up."
"Why? Because I’m saying things you can’t admit to yourself? " he questioned. Shut up. Shut up, shut up.
"Leave me alone."
"If you want."
"I do."
"Okay." He didn’t go though, and I could sense he was waiting for something. In a strange way, I was glad he was still there, the lesser of two evils. I didn’t know if I could take being alone right now.
"It’s getting stronger," he said. I take that back, why wouldn’t he go the hell away?
"Stop it."
"You’re starting to wonder if this is more trouble than it’s worth."
"Stop."
"I mean, if you aren’t an addict, then why are you here?"
"I said, stop."
"One pill won’t hurt."
"Please."
"You could get one, you know. It wouldn’t be that hard. If you called, they’d be here within an hour. That’s the great thing about this place, they don’t check these things. We’re on the honor code," Jazz said, sarcastically.
"Please."
"Okay. I’m just making sure you’re aware of your options."
"Why are you doing this to me?" I asked. I raised my head to look at him. He leaned toward me conspiratorially.
"’You can check out any time you want, but you can never leave,’" he whispered. He got up and walked away. I stared at his retreating form for a few minutes, until I felt something wet land on the back of my hand. I looked down. It was a splash of water. I raised my hand to my face, realizing it was wet as well. I was crying. And as the tears slipped down my face, I curled myself up into a ball and rocked slowly.
"God," I whispered in half-prayer. "I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough."
***
I was late for the awards show. We were performing that night, opening the show, and I was late. It was like the universe was conspiring against me. My shirt was ripped, my suit had a cigarette burn, my tie didn’t match, the traffic was bad, I got a flat tire, and the fans lined up a hundred deep so I couldn’t get through. What they doing here anyway? They should have been on the other side of the building. But I didn’t have time to think about it because we were performing in five minutes and I wasn’t even in costume yet.
I burst into the dressing room to meet the hostile stares of my band mates.
"Brian, where the hell have you been?" AJ demanded, glaring at me. I shrank back, trying to formulate a response.
"God, cuz, you are such a fuck-up." No, Kevin wasn’t saying that to me. Not my own cousin.
"Jesus, Brian, why are you still standing around?" Howie said. "Get in your damn costume." I grabbed the shirt off the hanger. Everything wound down and in slow motion I watched the tear start at the neck, travelling across the front of the shirt like a fault line. Then my world sped up again and I was left holding half a shirt, my eyes wide and brimming with tears.
"Oh, for the love of God," Nick said, exasperated. "Fuck it, Brian, go back home. We don’t need you anyway." They walked out, leaving me alone in the dressing room. I sank to my knees, wondering what sort of horrible person I’d been in a past life to deserve this. This is just a nightmare, my brain was screaming at me. But it was so vivid, so life-like. And who’s to say what’s real and what isn’t?
***
I woke up in a cold sweat, shivering and wondering why it was freezing in my room. What did they have the thermostat set at, 30 degrees? I wrapped my blankets around myself tighter, but it didn’t help. And then I started to warm up. Suddenly, it was too hot in here. What the hell? I threw off my blankets and dropped my feet to the floor, standing. My knees buckled as I took that first step, and I slammed into the ground hard, like I’d been dropped from forty floors up. The sharp pain coursing up my arm almost made me pass out, and I lay huddled on the floor, alternately shivering and sweating, the agony overwhelming. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for that sweet oblivion, but I was denied. Instead, I felt like a thousand needles were pricking me over and over, the pain on Dolby Surround Technicolor 3-D and I briefly wondered if this was what hell felt like. And then it subsided, and I was left gasping for breath, my tears tracing the same path they had taken only hours before.
"Sssshhh, you’re okay," a voice soothed in my ear. In my agony, I hadn’t heard the door open, and now my guardian angel was beside me, guiding me back into my bed. She was surprisingly strong and in my state, I was no help. But somehow, she managed to get me back in bed, the covers pulled over me.
"Thanks," I whispered, unable to articulate any more. I tilted my head up to see her, every movement sapping my energy even more. Makini was preparing the syringe and I wanted to refuse, but I couldn’t. I didn’t have the strength, and I found myself craving it. I needed it. I wanted it. I felt the shame flush my already heated cheeks, but she didn’t say a word, just pushed my sleeve up. I barely even felt the needle enter, but then the drug entered my blood stream, rushing to my brain, almost immediately shutting down my synaptic responses. And then I was at peace again.
***
I awoke in the morning just like the day before, my entire body sore. It was like I’d pushed a tractor up Mount Everest all night long. There was just no way I could feel like this just from sleeping. The suspicions were forming again, and in some detached part of my brain, I recognized the reflex—trying to divert the blame onto something other than myself—but rational was the last thing I was being. I scowled at Makini as she smiled upon seeing me awakening, and she leaned back in surprise.
"Are you feeling any better?" she asked in her lyrical accent.
"What do you care?" I muttered. I was being unfair, but it felt good getting my frustration out on someone else.
"You know I do," she said. Great, was she trying to make me feel guilty? I suddenly wanted to be alone.
"Go away," I growled.
"Brian—"
"I said, Go. Away." I enunciated the words loudly this time. I pulled the covers over my head, and turned my body as much as I could before it became too painful to move. I heard her sigh and stand up.
"You were doing so well yesterday," she said softly.
"Fuck you," I said, my tone flat. She moved toward the door, and I felt her pause slightly. "Go."
She opened the door and walked out, closing it slowly behind her. Once again, I felt my eyes burn, but my lachrymal ducts were dry. There’d be no solace in tears today. I was alone, boxed into this nightmare from which I’d never awaken.
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