Where All Are Free
By fLoSsY
A/N: This is, as said in the summary, set after #17 the Underground, from George Edelman's point of view. I don't think this has been done before (if it has, tell me in a review so I can edit this part out), it's a monologue w/ an iddle bit of plot (if that's possible). He has some internal dialogue, asking and answering questions, so it might be a little weird. But I figured a Controller who's Yeerk has gone insane would have to keep himself company. Anyway please tell me what you think and read it through.
I want it out. I want it out so bad. More than ever before, I want it out. It. That filthy thing. Slug. Parasite. Ah, but I know I can't. I've resigned myself to that fact, while I sit up here musing, enjoying the brevity of the moment, with the night breeze gently tousling my hair.
I've been called insane. I'm the crazy man ranting about aliens that live in my head. Put in to a mental asylum even. Only to be rescued by a telepathic bear. Haha. That's funny. Wait, no. Not as funny as the fact that I'm trapped. In my own body. Now that's funny. A real laugh. Why you may ask. How you may ask. You wouldn't understand. You wouldn't believe me. Unless you were one of them, of course. Them meaning the Yeerks- it's crazy. What's crazy? Having a little gray slug that you can make Yeerk pie out of in five seconds controlling you. Yes. That's crazy. But it's true. See that's why I'm trapped. It controls me. It moves me. It makes me say things. Acting just like me. Only not really me. I can't even pee when I want to. Torture. I thought that was bad, being controlled by a regular Yeerk. But now I know what's worse. Much worse. My Yeerk's addicted; it's high on drugs. Well, high on a Yeerk equivalent of drugs. And what's this deadly, insanity-inducing drug? Oatmeal. Instant ginger and maple oatmeal to be exact. Gee, I do sound crazy. I'd lock myself if I weren't me. Haha- oatmeal my Jenny eats, a dangerous narcotic.
Anyway, you'd think it'd be good, huh, to have your Yeerk all juiced up off some oatmeal. Figure it'd kill that thing off and you'd be free. Freedom- it's just a fairytale to me now. An almost forgotten memory, and that anamnesis only works to torture me more, reminding me of all that I've lost. Ah, I'm not free. Far from it. It's worse than before. The confinement within my body before was hell but this is- I can't even describe. It's like- well, have you ever seen an hourglass? You know how the sand runs through, never exactly staying still? Well, when it reaches that midpoint, that part separating the top half from the bottom half, I think that's where I'm at. The sand is my freedom; it's constantly running through, but never lingers long enough to matter. See, I have freedom, freedom to move my arms, to flip someone off, to tell my daughter I love her. But then seemingly as I soon as I gain control I lose it. Just like that. Frustrating, to say the least. Sometimes I'm free so long I feel like the whole Yeerk thing was just some freakishly realistic nightmare. And then I feel that thing inside me, gaining some ounce of sanity, and exerting his inexorable will over me. I can't allow myself to hope anymore. It's gone that far. It's just… too painful to hope and hope and hope, only to have that hope shattered over and over again. Freedom- those transient moments are bliss. Don't take that for granted. Just having your own will, being able to scratch your own ass, that's beautiful. I've learned that now. But all too late.
Before the Yeerk, before becoming a Controller, I was a workaholic. I worked at a major software company, worked overtime and more, because I had this need. This insatiable need to succeed. I never saw my kid, my wife. But it didn't seem that important to me back then. I figured we could just go on some family trip for some good old family bonding one day. One day… but that one day never came. And now it never will.
Because that thing, that Yeerk, I know it's gonna live as long as I do. It doesn't need Kandrona rays anymore. It's completely self-sufficient, except for being a little cuckoo in the head. Every three days I can no longer dream of that day when I finally work up the guts to make a break for it. Nope. I'm trapped as long as I live. You know life no longer seems that important to me. Lots of Controllers, normal people too, say that they don't care if they live or die. But I'm that rare case that actually doesn't. I'm having that moment of clarity, for once without that Yeerk muttering in his garbled tongue. What's life without freedom? What's life without real hope? That's no life at all. I know that.
As I look down the high-rise, as I peer out in to the moonlit skyline, I know I'm giving up a lot. The beauty of the world, like the night sky painted in the elusive yet almost tangible colors of a rich dark blue and black. The innocence of children. Oh, God, my daughter. I'll never see her grow up… But, after all, I don't have too much to give and I have infinitely more to gain. I look down. I lift up my arms, in a parody of some world class diver preparing for the plunge. I laugh a little at my private joke. And then I jump.
I fall beautifully slow. I enjoy my last few moments of freedom in life as I feel the Yeerk deep within me still cursing and chattering away to himself, unaware of what I am doing. I close my eyes, feeling the night breeze again caressing me softly as I fall.
I'm sorry Maureen, I'm sorry Jenny. I love you both and always will. And I'm sorry Mr. Bear. You told me not to hurt myself anymore. But I hope you understand. I'm not hurting myself. I'm healing myself in a way you can't imagine. I am going to be reborn in death. Where all are free…
A/N: I was thinking of maybe doing a follow up, like a news article about the suicide, and Rachel's reaction, but I'm not sure yet if people thinks this sucks. So, what'd you guys think?