This room again. Why did it have to be this room again? Why, you bastards? Goddamn.
…
…
…
You know what? I give up. Yeah, you heard right. I said 'I give up.' You guys win. If you really don't want me to know what all of this is about, that's fine. It's not like I can do anything about it, anyways.
I'm just going to sit here. Right here in this corner. I'm not going to move. I'm not going to yell or scream or freak out. There's not really much of a point to any of that anymore. Nope, I'm not going to do anything. Just sit here in this shitty little room nice and calm-like. That's all I'm gonna do. See? Just like this.
Heh. I don't care anymore. Because no matter what happens, no matter what I do, I'll always wake up in this little…white…room…
…
…
…
So why did you guys pick white, anyways? Because it's boring? Blank? Bright? Clean?
The patient began to dreamily rub his hands over the floor, back and forth, back and forth, as though polishing the cold, white tile.
Yeah, I bet that's exactly why you guys decided to paint this room white. Nice and clean. Because who would stick a guest in a dirty room? Not you guys, that's for sure.
Back and forth, back and forth, faster and faster, polishing the tile, wanting it to gleam, gleam like a mirror, because then…then…THEN…
So here I am in this nice, clean room. Heh. You guys even cleaned all the blood off the walls from last time. That's all right, I guess. All those dots all over the place really looked stupid, you know. Like the walls had chicken pox or some dumb shit like that.
…then, when the tile gleamed as brightly as a mirror, he would be able to see himself, see his hair, his eyes, his nose, mouth, face, and then he'd remember…
I guess what I'm trying to say here is…well…thanks. For taking such great care of me, I mean. You really seem to go the extra mile to make sure that everything is nice and clean, just for me.
…if he could just see his face, he'd remember everything. Who he was, how he'd gotten here…perhaps even…
The only complaint I've got is that I'm getting kind of…uh…what's the nice way to say this? Scrawny. See, these pants used to fit me and now…well, they're just about ready to fall off.
…perhaps he would even remember who the Watchers were. If he could remember that, then everything would be all right.
Come to think of it, I don't remember eating anything since I got here. I don't know how long I've been here, but I'm betting it's been a pretty long time. I don't know how you guys are keeping me alive without feeding me, but I'd really appreciate some food. Oh, and something to drink while we're at it.
Back and forth, back and forth, scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing, faster, faster he rubbed his hands over the tile.
I'm not asking for lobster and caviar here. Actually, don't bring me caviar if you can help it. I don't think I'd like that very much. I'd be happy with…oh…some pizza? Yeah, pizza sounds great. I don't even care what you put on it. Well, as long as you don't stick any of those little fish thingies on it. Those things are just nasty.
His palms began to grow red and tender, but he didn't stop, because soon he would be able to SEE!
What are those things called? An…an…aw, Jesus, I know it starts with an "a." Uh…
His skin began to tear away.
ANCHOVIES! That's what they are. Yeah. Don't stick any anchovies on that pizza, OK? Now let's talk about drinks….
Blood began to smear over the white tiles, blotting out their dull shine, and still, he rubbed.
Pop is good. Any kind. Or milk. Or water. Or even beer. I don't care. Just make sure that whatever you bring me is nice and cold.
The floor was stained with great blotches of crimson, effectively hiding any reflection that the patient may have been able to see in the shine of the tiles. Yet strangely enough…
Anyways, I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I just don't really want to lose any more weight. OK?
…he could see…
Thanks a bunch. And yeah. That about does it for now.
…so much more through the red than just his face, just his memories…
This is the guy in the little white room saying thanks for watching our program and be sure to tune in next time for more bitching and moaning.
…for in the red was something so important, so true, yet so fleeting he was unable to grasp it.
Talk to you sons of bitches later.
Next time, he would need more…
Goodnight.
…and then, all would most certainly be made clear.
April 30th. Fifth test run very strange indeed. Patient appeared to be quite sane and docile in speech. However, patient also inflicted significant damage to both hands. It is not yet understood whether this episode of self-mutilation was done consciously or subconsciously. Either way, it is an obvious sign of mental deterioration…a result of removing "control" from the patient's hands? Further research must be conducted to fully understand this patient's mental condition. Next test run to begin within the next week.
Author's Notes: Happy New Year, everybody! Hope you all enjoyed this new chapter. The next chapter is just about ready to go, so it'll be up soon.
Thanks to shadowwaker, DemonAlphaWolfKidNE, Hiro.P, Karimaru, Silently Broken, Silvershadowfire, mandapandabug, Flame Swordswoman, the nameless, TheWyldeWestWynd, and Dark Magician Girl / Hikaru for all of your reviews! You guys are great!