1.1 Author: Tiger_lily
Notes: Chapter 6 is a step into the unknown. Not inspired by a song or anything. Just I wanna try to capture how lost Adam/ Zack must feel. Living a lie and not knowing who he is.
The lyrics at the start and end are Sarah Mclachlan's 'Black and White' and all the stuff in the middle is Ape Guano ' Living in a lie'
**~~~
1.2 Who I am
*
and the animal awakens
and all I feel is black and white
and I'm wound up small and tight
and I don't know who I am
*
Memories make you who you are.
Well that's what I've always believe. I don't know why I've always believed that. But I've always felt to forget is to deny that something ever happened. To forget your past is to deny who you are.
So who am I?
And why am I here?
There is a deep sense of loss I can't explain. Maybe I never had a family like Buddy and his wife Mary say. They tell me that I'm a orphan whose parents and siblings died in a car crash when I was just a baby. I was in and out of foster homes all my childhood and then as soon as I was legal I worked in farms as a rancher so I could get my own place.
They tell me that my name is Adam. So how come everything someone calls me that, I have to remind myself they're talking to me?
But I just have this unexplainable feeling that I was happy once. Maybe it was at a foster home. I remember being with these kids, kids all younger than me. We were in this facility. Not a happy place. I don't remember why, but I know some terrible things happen. This was no brady bunch family home. This place had grey walls, sanitized floors and windows with bars. I don't remember ever seeing toys there, or hearing laughter. Or even crying. How strange is that? The world that keeps come to mind is sanitized. It was a sterile place. Not a place where dreams are born. I don't know who the kids were. There were about twenty of us. All kids with shaved heads. Maybe the home was one of those evangelical god places that don't believe in vanity or something. I don't know.
Maybe it's a glimpse of the past that's too horrible to remember. Maybe once I lived as someone else, a past life where I had different names.
I only remember I was happy once.
I try so hard to remember. Sometimes while sitting in the barn loft or in a tree. (For some reason I like high places), something will trigger what seems like a memory.
Just a glimpse of something, so brief and seemingly distant I'd think I was dreaming. A red balloon from Buddy's nephew's party. A woman with curly brown hair. Deep brown eyes you could lose yourself in, like an abyss.
And a three-word haunts me. Max. I can hear it in my head sometimes. Things that I've said in the past maybe. The first time I heard it I felt this deep emotion build inside of me. One of the boys on the ranch was riding a dirt bike, revved up the engine and said ' Yeah, let's push this baby to the max.' There was a deep sense of familiarity at that word. Max. I nearly fell off the tree I was sitting in.
I ran over to him, and grabbed his neck desperately yelling, 'What did you say? WHAT DID YOU SAY?' He look at me fearfully, like I was some kind of freak. He stuttered his sentence again. I squeezed harder and said frustratedly, " No, that word. Max. What does it mean?' He look at me blankly, and I saw fear there. He told me, "I-it's just short for maximum." I shook my head. No. That's not what it meant. He didn't understand. Max meant so much more
Max meant courage. Max meant love. That was the only thing I was sure of.
"Woah, you're stronger than you look. Been eating your vegetables, huh?' I didn't realize I'd grabbed him so hard that I'd lifted him a few inches off the group. I released him
Then looked at the marks where I'd gripped him by the neck. I hadn't tried to hurt him. Truly. It had just been instinct. The incident was laughed off. I think he told Buddy though, because that night after dinner I was in my room, lying on the bed staring at the ceiling.
I didn't sleep much. Couldn't. Always felt like someone was on my tail and they'd creep up on me when the moment I had my eyes closed. I could hear Buddy and Mary talking in their bedroom downstairs. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I really didn't. But somehow I could hear beyond these walls. I heard them whispering. Mary sounded worried. I don't remember the precious conversation. But she said something I'll never forget. She said, " Are you sure he can be trusted?" I heard Buddy replied, "You know I trust Logan with my life. He's done so much for us. I think we owe him this. Besides, Logan wouldn't knowingly put us in danger." Mary was quiet. Then a murmured "But he'll discover the truth soon. He's not stupid. He's already noticed that he's different to the others. He's stronger, quicker, better than them even without meaning to." Pause. "He's a killer. He could hurt any of them without meaning to." Silence.
Horror filled me. Was I murderer? But. I don't want to harm anyone.
But that look of fear in Warn's eyes when I'd grabbed him for some answers. That felt familiar. Like maybe fear was a feeling I'd often stirred in people.
Maybe Mary was right. I was a killer. I could do no good. But I convinced myself that that wasn't me. I didn't want to think about the dreams.
* Flashback *
A man tearing through the woods. I can feel his fear, almost taste it. He runs, stumbling forward towards the river. Lydecker must have told him that once past he was safe from us. Boy was he in for a surprise. I sign some instructions to Max, Jondy and Ben and Zane to go one way. After they're gone, I take the others in another direction. The man is faltering. I can feel his weakness in every step. I've taken point, I'm always looking out for everyone else. I run behind Tinga, I can see her barcode in front of me as I run. There's the proof of what we are. Superior. After running through some thick shrub, we are upon the river. There he is, sweating heavily and panting. We'll sneak up behind him. Max's group is already gathered on the other side. He's sees us, starts firing wildly and swearing. But we are no match for him. I feel proud that we make such a good team. That we are better than him. I run towards him and kick the gun from his hand. Something glints in the sun. He's pulled out a knife. Wrong move. Ben disarms him and he's on the ground. We gather around. Ben tears the man's shirt. Shock. There is a drawing, a knife piercing a heart. There's a cry, I don't know who it is. "He's a nomalie."
There is a frenzy of activity. They didn't even need me to issue an order. For the first time, I feel like I've lost control. And it feels good..
*
I found a way
to reach myself again but all I saw was shame
Drive me away
there's something deep in me waiting to escape
*
*back to present *
These dreams are so real. I can almost see it happening. But I can never see who I am. I don't know whether the person who takes me through these dreams will have blond hair and blue eyes. Maybe I'm afraid of finding out it is.
The dreams keep me awake through the night. Sometimes I stay awake all night, fearing if I close my eyes, those images of violence and blood will fill my mind. Blood. Lots of blodd.
But even when I'm awake, lying in my bed, the frills of
, my mind is never blank. Sometimes, seeing shadows move across my balcony wall, I think that I can sense someone there. Someone watching me. Seeing those shadows slithering across the moonlight pooling into my room reminds me of something, something to fear. Sometimes in my mind, I see two hands, locked together, fluttering to make shadows on the wall, and one word comes to mind. A name for the endless shadows on my tail. Nomalies. It's then that I wish that I was in the grips of a dream. Even one of the black and white nightmares. It's funny that I don't dream in colors. The nightmares are always in endless shades of grey. Better the helplessness in dreams, then the constant fear when I wake up.
The nightmares feel familiar.
But I convinced myself that this wasn't me. That I hadn't enjoyed the chase. That these weren't my memories. You can only deny yourself for so long.
About two months after I woke up in the hospital, I decided to leave the property for a little while. For almost two months I had not left the ranch for anything. But Mary wanted to get some groceries and I thought maybe I should tag along. Maybe something outside will tag a memory or two.
I was right. But in the wrong way.
We set out after lunch in the pickup, Mary driving, me sitting shotgun. We didn't talk much. After the Warn incident I didn't think she wanted to talk to me and I didn't have anything to say. So we drove to town in silence. I just watched the landscape, looking for anything that signified I belonged here. Nothing.
We got into town and I followed Mary around as she went to the bank and went to buy some horse feed and tackle. Some people gave me a few looks. They were wary of strangers, especially one they hadn't had a glimpse of in two months. I just look right back at them. I've got nothing to hide.
We walked into the general store to get some goods. So Mary went around the aisles with a shopping cart and her shopping list and I just looked around and browsed. I didn't find anything I needed. In fact, I found that I could live on the bare essentials. Maybe I'd done a lot of camping when I was younger.
We went to the cashier to pay for everything and as the man scanned our groceries something hit me so hard I didn't know what to think. So I just picked up the box and showed it to the cashier. I didn't think I could find a voice.
"Wh- What is that?" I asked.
He gave me a strange look and took the box and scanned the little rectangle of lines I'd noticed before.
"It's a barcode," he grunted, "Haven't ya ever seen one son?"
"Yea," I said to myself quietly, " But not on some box."
My hand instinctively rose to rub the back of my neck. There was something here. A clue to my past. I just needed to piece it together.
I shut my eyes and willed myself to remember
* Flash *
I'm running behind someone. I can see a barcode on her neck
* Flash *
A voice I know is mine saying, " Max, this is you," while touching the barcode stuck on the decompression chamber. 332960073452
"And me" Another barcode. 330417291599
"And Brin" Another barcode.331280315734
"And Tinga." Another barcode , 331450074656 and an image. A beautiful dark- skinned woman, her hair tied back. She's smiling and holding a little boy. A man stands behind her, protective but happy
Another voice. Sounds so familiar.
"No. Tinga's dead. Come on"
So strong. So sure.
Finally I can see the voice. She's there. The girl who haunts my dreams. Deep brown eyes, a round face surrounded by brown curls. She's beautiful, he knows that. And he loves her without quite knowing why. Maybe its that look in her eye. Determination.
This must be Max
*
Don't give me names
You've got it all, took it all from me
Drove me insane
Who'd come down to earth, releasing me
Healing my wounds
so why don't you close the door when you're leaving me
now you'll run
running all the way back to me again
*
* End Flash *
'Barcodes," I say. Is that my voice? Adam or whoever I am.
"We all have barcodes," I repeated to Mary
She had a strange look on my face. Knowledge.
She had been hiding something from him all this time.
I had to know. This was the most important thing in my life. I needed to know who I am.
I grabbed her by the arms and shook her.
"What do you know??" I growled at her.
She was silent, but there was fear in my eyes
"Who AM I?" I shouted, shaking her harder.
"Hey!" I heard the cashier say. He came at me trying to get me to let go.
I backhanded him in a smooth, rapid move. He slumped onto the ground.
I wondered how I knew how to do that? It just felt like. instinct.
Mary was crying now.
"I don't know. Buddy and I don't know anything," She sobbed.
"WHO IS ADAM?" I shouted at her.
She's trying to take away my past again. Her and Buddy, they had been hiding who he was all along.
"Find Logan! He knows!" Mary screams as I increased pressure on her arms.
"Logan who?" I yell.
"Logan Cale!" she screams.
I dropped her and streaked out the door without looking back.
I knew what was going to happen if I stayed in this town.
Another feeling I was familiar with. Hostility.
Time for me to leave.
I jumped into Mary' pickup and sped down the road until it connected onto a highway. There was a sign there. Seatle 50 miles.
I might as well head in that direction.
I'm trying to sort out the jumble in my head.
Buddy. Buddy had lied from the beginning.
Maybe this Logan person would too.
I need to find Max.
*
I'm here to end the game
I'm living in a lie
I loved you a lot
to need you a lot
*
Funny enough, running felt good. Like a kind of safety
I have to leave. I have to find some answers. I have a feeling that those kids in my dreams are something I don't want to lose.
I don't know where I'll go. But something is calling me to Seatle.
Maybe there's someone there that once knew me. The real me. Whatever my name is.
Whoever I am.
*
the road is long
the memory slides
to the whole of my undoing
put aside
I put away
I push it back to get through each day
and all I feel is black and white
and I'm wound up small and tight
and I don't know who I am
*
Notes: Chapter 6 is a step into the unknown. Not inspired by a song or anything. Just I wanna try to capture how lost Adam/ Zack must feel. Living a lie and not knowing who he is.
The lyrics at the start and end are Sarah Mclachlan's 'Black and White' and all the stuff in the middle is Ape Guano ' Living in a lie'
**~~~
1.2 Who I am
*
and the animal awakens
and all I feel is black and white
and I'm wound up small and tight
and I don't know who I am
*
Memories make you who you are.
Well that's what I've always believe. I don't know why I've always believed that. But I've always felt to forget is to deny that something ever happened. To forget your past is to deny who you are.
So who am I?
And why am I here?
There is a deep sense of loss I can't explain. Maybe I never had a family like Buddy and his wife Mary say. They tell me that I'm a orphan whose parents and siblings died in a car crash when I was just a baby. I was in and out of foster homes all my childhood and then as soon as I was legal I worked in farms as a rancher so I could get my own place.
They tell me that my name is Adam. So how come everything someone calls me that, I have to remind myself they're talking to me?
But I just have this unexplainable feeling that I was happy once. Maybe it was at a foster home. I remember being with these kids, kids all younger than me. We were in this facility. Not a happy place. I don't remember why, but I know some terrible things happen. This was no brady bunch family home. This place had grey walls, sanitized floors and windows with bars. I don't remember ever seeing toys there, or hearing laughter. Or even crying. How strange is that? The world that keeps come to mind is sanitized. It was a sterile place. Not a place where dreams are born. I don't know who the kids were. There were about twenty of us. All kids with shaved heads. Maybe the home was one of those evangelical god places that don't believe in vanity or something. I don't know.
Maybe it's a glimpse of the past that's too horrible to remember. Maybe once I lived as someone else, a past life where I had different names.
I only remember I was happy once.
I try so hard to remember. Sometimes while sitting in the barn loft or in a tree. (For some reason I like high places), something will trigger what seems like a memory.
Just a glimpse of something, so brief and seemingly distant I'd think I was dreaming. A red balloon from Buddy's nephew's party. A woman with curly brown hair. Deep brown eyes you could lose yourself in, like an abyss.
And a three-word haunts me. Max. I can hear it in my head sometimes. Things that I've said in the past maybe. The first time I heard it I felt this deep emotion build inside of me. One of the boys on the ranch was riding a dirt bike, revved up the engine and said ' Yeah, let's push this baby to the max.' There was a deep sense of familiarity at that word. Max. I nearly fell off the tree I was sitting in.
I ran over to him, and grabbed his neck desperately yelling, 'What did you say? WHAT DID YOU SAY?' He look at me fearfully, like I was some kind of freak. He stuttered his sentence again. I squeezed harder and said frustratedly, " No, that word. Max. What does it mean?' He look at me blankly, and I saw fear there. He told me, "I-it's just short for maximum." I shook my head. No. That's not what it meant. He didn't understand. Max meant so much more
Max meant courage. Max meant love. That was the only thing I was sure of.
"Woah, you're stronger than you look. Been eating your vegetables, huh?' I didn't realize I'd grabbed him so hard that I'd lifted him a few inches off the group. I released him
Then looked at the marks where I'd gripped him by the neck. I hadn't tried to hurt him. Truly. It had just been instinct. The incident was laughed off. I think he told Buddy though, because that night after dinner I was in my room, lying on the bed staring at the ceiling.
I didn't sleep much. Couldn't. Always felt like someone was on my tail and they'd creep up on me when the moment I had my eyes closed. I could hear Buddy and Mary talking in their bedroom downstairs. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I really didn't. But somehow I could hear beyond these walls. I heard them whispering. Mary sounded worried. I don't remember the precious conversation. But she said something I'll never forget. She said, " Are you sure he can be trusted?" I heard Buddy replied, "You know I trust Logan with my life. He's done so much for us. I think we owe him this. Besides, Logan wouldn't knowingly put us in danger." Mary was quiet. Then a murmured "But he'll discover the truth soon. He's not stupid. He's already noticed that he's different to the others. He's stronger, quicker, better than them even without meaning to." Pause. "He's a killer. He could hurt any of them without meaning to." Silence.
Horror filled me. Was I murderer? But. I don't want to harm anyone.
But that look of fear in Warn's eyes when I'd grabbed him for some answers. That felt familiar. Like maybe fear was a feeling I'd often stirred in people.
Maybe Mary was right. I was a killer. I could do no good. But I convinced myself that that wasn't me. I didn't want to think about the dreams.
* Flashback *
A man tearing through the woods. I can feel his fear, almost taste it. He runs, stumbling forward towards the river. Lydecker must have told him that once past he was safe from us. Boy was he in for a surprise. I sign some instructions to Max, Jondy and Ben and Zane to go one way. After they're gone, I take the others in another direction. The man is faltering. I can feel his weakness in every step. I've taken point, I'm always looking out for everyone else. I run behind Tinga, I can see her barcode in front of me as I run. There's the proof of what we are. Superior. After running through some thick shrub, we are upon the river. There he is, sweating heavily and panting. We'll sneak up behind him. Max's group is already gathered on the other side. He's sees us, starts firing wildly and swearing. But we are no match for him. I feel proud that we make such a good team. That we are better than him. I run towards him and kick the gun from his hand. Something glints in the sun. He's pulled out a knife. Wrong move. Ben disarms him and he's on the ground. We gather around. Ben tears the man's shirt. Shock. There is a drawing, a knife piercing a heart. There's a cry, I don't know who it is. "He's a nomalie."
There is a frenzy of activity. They didn't even need me to issue an order. For the first time, I feel like I've lost control. And it feels good..
*
I found a way
to reach myself again but all I saw was shame
Drive me away
there's something deep in me waiting to escape
*
*back to present *
These dreams are so real. I can almost see it happening. But I can never see who I am. I don't know whether the person who takes me through these dreams will have blond hair and blue eyes. Maybe I'm afraid of finding out it is.
The dreams keep me awake through the night. Sometimes I stay awake all night, fearing if I close my eyes, those images of violence and blood will fill my mind. Blood. Lots of blodd.
But even when I'm awake, lying in my bed, the frills of
, my mind is never blank. Sometimes, seeing shadows move across my balcony wall, I think that I can sense someone there. Someone watching me. Seeing those shadows slithering across the moonlight pooling into my room reminds me of something, something to fear. Sometimes in my mind, I see two hands, locked together, fluttering to make shadows on the wall, and one word comes to mind. A name for the endless shadows on my tail. Nomalies. It's then that I wish that I was in the grips of a dream. Even one of the black and white nightmares. It's funny that I don't dream in colors. The nightmares are always in endless shades of grey. Better the helplessness in dreams, then the constant fear when I wake up.
The nightmares feel familiar.
But I convinced myself that this wasn't me. That I hadn't enjoyed the chase. That these weren't my memories. You can only deny yourself for so long.
About two months after I woke up in the hospital, I decided to leave the property for a little while. For almost two months I had not left the ranch for anything. But Mary wanted to get some groceries and I thought maybe I should tag along. Maybe something outside will tag a memory or two.
I was right. But in the wrong way.
We set out after lunch in the pickup, Mary driving, me sitting shotgun. We didn't talk much. After the Warn incident I didn't think she wanted to talk to me and I didn't have anything to say. So we drove to town in silence. I just watched the landscape, looking for anything that signified I belonged here. Nothing.
We got into town and I followed Mary around as she went to the bank and went to buy some horse feed and tackle. Some people gave me a few looks. They were wary of strangers, especially one they hadn't had a glimpse of in two months. I just look right back at them. I've got nothing to hide.
We walked into the general store to get some goods. So Mary went around the aisles with a shopping cart and her shopping list and I just looked around and browsed. I didn't find anything I needed. In fact, I found that I could live on the bare essentials. Maybe I'd done a lot of camping when I was younger.
We went to the cashier to pay for everything and as the man scanned our groceries something hit me so hard I didn't know what to think. So I just picked up the box and showed it to the cashier. I didn't think I could find a voice.
"Wh- What is that?" I asked.
He gave me a strange look and took the box and scanned the little rectangle of lines I'd noticed before.
"It's a barcode," he grunted, "Haven't ya ever seen one son?"
"Yea," I said to myself quietly, " But not on some box."
My hand instinctively rose to rub the back of my neck. There was something here. A clue to my past. I just needed to piece it together.
I shut my eyes and willed myself to remember
* Flash *
I'm running behind someone. I can see a barcode on her neck
* Flash *
A voice I know is mine saying, " Max, this is you," while touching the barcode stuck on the decompression chamber. 332960073452
"And me" Another barcode. 330417291599
"And Brin" Another barcode.331280315734
"And Tinga." Another barcode , 331450074656 and an image. A beautiful dark- skinned woman, her hair tied back. She's smiling and holding a little boy. A man stands behind her, protective but happy
Another voice. Sounds so familiar.
"No. Tinga's dead. Come on"
So strong. So sure.
Finally I can see the voice. She's there. The girl who haunts my dreams. Deep brown eyes, a round face surrounded by brown curls. She's beautiful, he knows that. And he loves her without quite knowing why. Maybe its that look in her eye. Determination.
This must be Max
*
Don't give me names
You've got it all, took it all from me
Drove me insane
Who'd come down to earth, releasing me
Healing my wounds
so why don't you close the door when you're leaving me
now you'll run
running all the way back to me again
*
* End Flash *
'Barcodes," I say. Is that my voice? Adam or whoever I am.
"We all have barcodes," I repeated to Mary
She had a strange look on my face. Knowledge.
She had been hiding something from him all this time.
I had to know. This was the most important thing in my life. I needed to know who I am.
I grabbed her by the arms and shook her.
"What do you know??" I growled at her.
She was silent, but there was fear in my eyes
"Who AM I?" I shouted, shaking her harder.
"Hey!" I heard the cashier say. He came at me trying to get me to let go.
I backhanded him in a smooth, rapid move. He slumped onto the ground.
I wondered how I knew how to do that? It just felt like. instinct.
Mary was crying now.
"I don't know. Buddy and I don't know anything," She sobbed.
"WHO IS ADAM?" I shouted at her.
She's trying to take away my past again. Her and Buddy, they had been hiding who he was all along.
"Find Logan! He knows!" Mary screams as I increased pressure on her arms.
"Logan who?" I yell.
"Logan Cale!" she screams.
I dropped her and streaked out the door without looking back.
I knew what was going to happen if I stayed in this town.
Another feeling I was familiar with. Hostility.
Time for me to leave.
I jumped into Mary' pickup and sped down the road until it connected onto a highway. There was a sign there. Seatle 50 miles.
I might as well head in that direction.
I'm trying to sort out the jumble in my head.
Buddy. Buddy had lied from the beginning.
Maybe this Logan person would too.
I need to find Max.
*
I'm here to end the game
I'm living in a lie
I loved you a lot
to need you a lot
*
Funny enough, running felt good. Like a kind of safety
I have to leave. I have to find some answers. I have a feeling that those kids in my dreams are something I don't want to lose.
I don't know where I'll go. But something is calling me to Seatle.
Maybe there's someone there that once knew me. The real me. Whatever my name is.
Whoever I am.
*
the road is long
the memory slides
to the whole of my undoing
put aside
I put away
I push it back to get through each day
and all I feel is black and white
and I'm wound up small and tight
and I don't know who I am
*
