I close my eyes and they turn the lights on.
I open my eyes and they turn the lights off.
There own form of torment.
I can't be sure.
I think it might be Saturday.
They won't let me sleep.
I lay here in this padded cell.
In a strait jacket and pinstripe pants.
I wonder how they caught me.
It dosn't matter.
I'll be out Monday mourning.
Whatever.
Last night, if it is Saturday.
Last night is a blur.
I remember the tavern.
I remember the police.
I remember the girl.
I remember arriving at the police station.
I don't remember how I got there.
I remember the police telling me I am a murderer.
I remember them saying I was going to jail for a long time.
I laughed at them.
He punched me in the face.
I laughed again.
I laughed as the blood drained out my nose and stained my shirt.
I laughed until I started coughing up blood.
I remember being thrown into a small holding cell.
I remember the three other men in that cell.
I remember the battle for supremacy that followed.
I remember the men on the floor unconciss.
I remember the guard coming in.
I remember biting his arm.
I remember them forcing me into a straitjacket.
I remember being dragged into that empty room.
I remember the beating.
I remember those three guards.
I remember the billy clubs.
I remember being knocked down.
I remember kicking and stomping on my chest.
I remember the popping.
I remember the snapping.
I remember my ribs breaking.
I remember the pain.
I remember being dragged to this padded cell.
I remember the plastic floor.
And I lay there.
All night.
I think.
That's when they started with the lights.
Someone will be in soon.
Do there job.
Interrogation.
Whatever.
He came in.
Took me to a new room.
A room with a little table.
A room with two small chairs.
A little room with no guards.
He told me to sit down.
He had a little tape recorder.
He didn't turn it on.
He said he was an assistant district attorney.
Or whatever.
He says a few things.
He says no matter what im going to jail for a long time.
He says I'm a mass murderer.
He tells me about the people.
He shows me some pictures.
He tells me the stories.
Of the people I have killed.
I tell him I know what he's looking for.
I tell him he won't get a confession out of me.
He says he doesn't need one.
I tell him he dose.
He asked why.
I tell him that if he doesn't get one I'll be free on Monday.
He said no jury would free me.
I tell him that I'll never see a jury.
He asks why.
I tell him that I'll never go to court.
I tell him is boss will congratulate him.
I tell him he might even get a medal.
I tell him Monday mourning his boss will tell him to let me go.
He laughs and tells the guards to come in.
I tell him that I'll be gone Monday morning.
He has me put on suicide watch.
The guards take me back to the padded cell.
I close my eyes and they turn the lights on.
I open my eves and the turn the lights off.