CHAPTER 2
A man slowly unbolted Julian's big, metal door and opened it. He was a small man, with greasy black hair and glasses that slid down his nose. Julian stared at him blankly for a few moments before going back to the ceiling. This was the third time someone had brought him food. He must have been in this wretched place for at least two days. He had considered trying to attack one of the doctors that checked on him or one of the people who brought food. He knew about their needles, though. Their drugs and restraints. His body wasn't what it used to be. It was a pointless plan.
He waited until the greasy-haired man was gone to roll out of bed and inspect the food. Eggs and bacon. That's what humans ate for breakfast. Yes, he was on at least his second day. His stomach growled and he gave a grunt of annoyance. The fact that he had to eat irked him to no end. He was not a human. He shouldn't have to do bothersome things like eating and....and using the toilet.
His stomach growled again and he surrendered to his hunger and nibbled on a bacon strip. He thought of how silly he must look to anyone who passed by the little window in his door. He was still wearing the same white robe, and he was now kneeling on the floor slowly eating bacon like some kind of rodent. He felt like blasting someone through a roof. Maybe he *would* attack the next person who opened his door, just for the fun of it.
At least his hunger vanished once he finished off the bacon and stabbed up the eggs with a plastic fork. Why did they even bother with the plastic forks in this place? He could ram one of them into his jugular vein just as easily as he could with a real fork. Why not try, at least? He didn't know what would happen if he killed himself, that was why. Would he die like a normal human, or was he cursed to forever be reborn into a naked embodiment of insanity?
He shoved his tray towards the door and climbed back onto his mattress. He was just about to fall asleep when there was more commotion from outside. He wasn't surprised when he stared through his window and saw that it was that same girl again. Her sedatives had apparently worn off and for some reason she was out in the brightly lit lobby instead of her white box. She was screaming and pointing at one of the nurses and some more nurses were inching towards her, trying to get her to calm down.
The girl had jet black hair, short and choppy, as if she had attacked it with a pair of scissors. She was skinny and tanned, and she possessed such an air of ferocity he wasn't sure if he would want to be in a room alone with her. He walked back to his bed and stared at the ceiling some more. He didn't want to watch the girl be eventually overcome and shoved back to her cell with another sedative. He wanted to remember her just as she was, standing straight and furious, commanding the respect of everyone around her. He wished he could see some of the other patients.
He was starting to memorize all the cracks in his ceiling. He could close his eyes and remember them all, their exact twists and curves. A loud boom in the room next to him for some reason made him think of Jenny again. He realized he hadn't thought about her for several hours. How could he do that? He could barely even remember what she looked like now. He was really going insane. He was going to end up some shell of a being, curled up in a corner chewing on his arm.
He attacked the door in rage at this thought. So what if they gave him a shot. Maybe it would put him out of his misery for a while. He banged on the door as hard as he could, until his fists ached. Why wasn't anybody coming? Why was this door metal? Why were there padded walls and then a metal door he could ram his head into? Finally he could see a doctor coming. This one had already tried to talk to him several times- to no avail.
The doctor calmly spoke through the door.
"Sir, is something bothering you?"
"Oh no, nothing at all. I'm just fine in this padded little cage!" He was glad to hear that his voice still sounded inhuman- like water running over a rock.
"Would you like to talk about it?"
Julian paused. Up until now he hadn't bothered to converse with the likes of these people, despite his loneliness. Now, though, he was getting desperate. "Yeah, I want to talk about it."
"All right." The man unlocked the door and stepped inside the padded cell before it was shut behind him and locked again. Julian sat on the bed and stared at him.
"First of all, why don't we get a name? We never quite figured out what yours was."
"Julian." He should have made something up. But then, seeing how he had many names, it wasn't a definite truth.
"Well, Julian, you've been quite a mystery to the staff here since your arrival."
"What am I in here for?" It was best to play dumb.
"Julian, you were wandering around naked, in the dark, muttering strange words and claiming to have special powers. Not to mention that you seriously injured two policemen before they managed to restrain you."
"So?"
"Julian, a person can be committed to a psychiatric hospital against their will if they are a danger to themselves or others, and you seem to be both."
"So what am I? What are you calling me out there?"
"If you really want to know, we're calling you a paranoid schizophrenic."
Julian burst out laughing. "And you're supposed to help me, right?"
"You don't have to stay in this padded room forever, you know. Most of our patients stay in normal rooms and are able to walk about the ward. If you can demonstrate fairly good behavior, we can get you moved out in a day or two."
Julian turned this over in his mind. Was it better to go insane in his own little room or mix with the other psychos out there, face to face, with no experience of being human?
"I'll think about it."
"That's good to hear. Is there anything you need?"
"Could I have some clothes? This robe is creeping me out."
"I'll see what we can do."
"And that girl down the hall, the one with the black hair, what's she?"
"Between you and me, I really don't know yet. She's a dramatic case."
"Okay. You can leave now."
"All right, Mr- do you have a last name?"
"Julian is fine."
"All right, Julian. I'll be back to check on you later."
"Ok."
The doctor left. Julian wanted to punch himself. He didn't know why he'd talked to anyone, especially about such stupid subjects. Still, he felt some power with knowing- at least what they thought of him. Paranoid schizophrenic? It was easy to see why. Not many people were used to having infinite power at their fingertips. He had been foolish to think he could still wield that power after being cut off the runestave.
So, he could get out of this room if he wanted to, huh? It occurred to him that if he could just act semi-normal he might be able to get out of here altogether. He still didn't want to imagine life as an active human, but the white walls and plastic forks were driving him nuts. If he just played his cards right, he could be out by the end of the week. Maybe he *could* find Jenny. Why couldn't he remember what she looked like? Oh well. He figured he may as well try to get some sleep. He wondered if he would have any dreams now that he was mortal.
A man slowly unbolted Julian's big, metal door and opened it. He was a small man, with greasy black hair and glasses that slid down his nose. Julian stared at him blankly for a few moments before going back to the ceiling. This was the third time someone had brought him food. He must have been in this wretched place for at least two days. He had considered trying to attack one of the doctors that checked on him or one of the people who brought food. He knew about their needles, though. Their drugs and restraints. His body wasn't what it used to be. It was a pointless plan.
He waited until the greasy-haired man was gone to roll out of bed and inspect the food. Eggs and bacon. That's what humans ate for breakfast. Yes, he was on at least his second day. His stomach growled and he gave a grunt of annoyance. The fact that he had to eat irked him to no end. He was not a human. He shouldn't have to do bothersome things like eating and....and using the toilet.
His stomach growled again and he surrendered to his hunger and nibbled on a bacon strip. He thought of how silly he must look to anyone who passed by the little window in his door. He was still wearing the same white robe, and he was now kneeling on the floor slowly eating bacon like some kind of rodent. He felt like blasting someone through a roof. Maybe he *would* attack the next person who opened his door, just for the fun of it.
At least his hunger vanished once he finished off the bacon and stabbed up the eggs with a plastic fork. Why did they even bother with the plastic forks in this place? He could ram one of them into his jugular vein just as easily as he could with a real fork. Why not try, at least? He didn't know what would happen if he killed himself, that was why. Would he die like a normal human, or was he cursed to forever be reborn into a naked embodiment of insanity?
He shoved his tray towards the door and climbed back onto his mattress. He was just about to fall asleep when there was more commotion from outside. He wasn't surprised when he stared through his window and saw that it was that same girl again. Her sedatives had apparently worn off and for some reason she was out in the brightly lit lobby instead of her white box. She was screaming and pointing at one of the nurses and some more nurses were inching towards her, trying to get her to calm down.
The girl had jet black hair, short and choppy, as if she had attacked it with a pair of scissors. She was skinny and tanned, and she possessed such an air of ferocity he wasn't sure if he would want to be in a room alone with her. He walked back to his bed and stared at the ceiling some more. He didn't want to watch the girl be eventually overcome and shoved back to her cell with another sedative. He wanted to remember her just as she was, standing straight and furious, commanding the respect of everyone around her. He wished he could see some of the other patients.
He was starting to memorize all the cracks in his ceiling. He could close his eyes and remember them all, their exact twists and curves. A loud boom in the room next to him for some reason made him think of Jenny again. He realized he hadn't thought about her for several hours. How could he do that? He could barely even remember what she looked like now. He was really going insane. He was going to end up some shell of a being, curled up in a corner chewing on his arm.
He attacked the door in rage at this thought. So what if they gave him a shot. Maybe it would put him out of his misery for a while. He banged on the door as hard as he could, until his fists ached. Why wasn't anybody coming? Why was this door metal? Why were there padded walls and then a metal door he could ram his head into? Finally he could see a doctor coming. This one had already tried to talk to him several times- to no avail.
The doctor calmly spoke through the door.
"Sir, is something bothering you?"
"Oh no, nothing at all. I'm just fine in this padded little cage!" He was glad to hear that his voice still sounded inhuman- like water running over a rock.
"Would you like to talk about it?"
Julian paused. Up until now he hadn't bothered to converse with the likes of these people, despite his loneliness. Now, though, he was getting desperate. "Yeah, I want to talk about it."
"All right." The man unlocked the door and stepped inside the padded cell before it was shut behind him and locked again. Julian sat on the bed and stared at him.
"First of all, why don't we get a name? We never quite figured out what yours was."
"Julian." He should have made something up. But then, seeing how he had many names, it wasn't a definite truth.
"Well, Julian, you've been quite a mystery to the staff here since your arrival."
"What am I in here for?" It was best to play dumb.
"Julian, you were wandering around naked, in the dark, muttering strange words and claiming to have special powers. Not to mention that you seriously injured two policemen before they managed to restrain you."
"So?"
"Julian, a person can be committed to a psychiatric hospital against their will if they are a danger to themselves or others, and you seem to be both."
"So what am I? What are you calling me out there?"
"If you really want to know, we're calling you a paranoid schizophrenic."
Julian burst out laughing. "And you're supposed to help me, right?"
"You don't have to stay in this padded room forever, you know. Most of our patients stay in normal rooms and are able to walk about the ward. If you can demonstrate fairly good behavior, we can get you moved out in a day or two."
Julian turned this over in his mind. Was it better to go insane in his own little room or mix with the other psychos out there, face to face, with no experience of being human?
"I'll think about it."
"That's good to hear. Is there anything you need?"
"Could I have some clothes? This robe is creeping me out."
"I'll see what we can do."
"And that girl down the hall, the one with the black hair, what's she?"
"Between you and me, I really don't know yet. She's a dramatic case."
"Okay. You can leave now."
"All right, Mr- do you have a last name?"
"Julian is fine."
"All right, Julian. I'll be back to check on you later."
"Ok."
The doctor left. Julian wanted to punch himself. He didn't know why he'd talked to anyone, especially about such stupid subjects. Still, he felt some power with knowing- at least what they thought of him. Paranoid schizophrenic? It was easy to see why. Not many people were used to having infinite power at their fingertips. He had been foolish to think he could still wield that power after being cut off the runestave.
So, he could get out of this room if he wanted to, huh? It occurred to him that if he could just act semi-normal he might be able to get out of here altogether. He still didn't want to imagine life as an active human, but the white walls and plastic forks were driving him nuts. If he just played his cards right, he could be out by the end of the week. Maybe he *could* find Jenny. Why couldn't he remember what she looked like? Oh well. He figured he may as well try to get some sleep. He wondered if he would have any dreams now that he was mortal.