Hello Friends! Welcome to the second prompt challenge for this prompt. I wish it was better, but I didn’t have a lot of time to work on it. I know, I should take this a little more serious and set aside time to write like I need to. I am working on it, I promise. I found something that worked for me and I let myself slack.
So, while I am not completely happy with this short story, I am pleased with the general concept. I may revisit it one day and make it better. But today, you get the raw version. I hope you like it!
Warning, this one is a little longer than what I usually write. Please still read it?
There are three types of people in this world.
The first are the ones that the government only looked into maybe a few times a year. They get a knock at their door, someone takes a walk through their home, and they are done.
The second are the ones that get monthly visits from the government. They get a knock at their door, the government walks through their home, looking under beds and through files. Usually these are the ones that had a questionable family member somewhere down the line.
The third group are the unlucky ones. You know you are the unlucky, but no one else knows. Usually you disappear from the family and cause the rest of the family to become part of the second group. Your family stops talking about you, they forget about you. Not because they hate you, but because it is safer to forget about you. Eventually, the family will work their way back into the first group and can breathe a sigh of relief.
I am one of the ones from the third group. Though, at this point I don’t know why anymore. Am I filled with rage because they constantly watch me or am I constantly watched because I am filled with rage? They keep me tied to a bed, strapped down like a science project, while they draw blood from me. They also pump medicines into my system and note how each drug changes my temper and blood. Sometimes those drugs can make me lose hours or even days.
I try to escape into my mind. I try to remember things about my life before this one. I try to remember my mom or my father. They are both just blurry figures, standing over me and crying. I know they are crying because I can hear their sobs.
The odd thing though, my father was not there when I was taken away. So why is he in my memory of when I was taken away? Why does he sob along with my mother as the government drags me away?
My father left my mother when I was a toddler, just learning to walk. I remember that day. My father was screaming and my mother was crying out. I waddled to the glass door as it slammed shut. I watched as my father threw a bag into his car and drove away. How do I remember that? Was that even my father? Did I even have a father?
Mom. She loved me, you know. She worked hard to take care of me. I was a young boy when they took me from her. I was maybe 15. How long ago was that? It feels like yesterday, but I know that it was much longer than that. I have seen myself in a mirror before. I look older than a teenager. It could be the stress, though. I could just look older because of all the test and drugs. Or maybe I was never 15. Mom, where are you? Why did you not stop them from taking me? Did I even have a mother?
They are here again, thumping a needle full of blue liquid. I laugh as they inject the blue liquid into my drip. I watch as the tube running into my arm turns blue. I think I can feel the blue liquid running through my veins. I think I can see it. What did they drug me with this time? Why am I here? Do I even have a body?
I scream at the people in white suits, their faces look like birds. Their metal beaks are long and sharp and their eyes are large and glassy. Masks. My mind tells me that they are wearing masks, but my mind tells me that to keep me calm. I don’t think they are masks. I once saw a beak open and close, as if the bird face was trying to speak to me. The light glints off the metal beaks, teasing and taunting me. Why do they hide behind the masks? What is behind those masks?
They leave again, but I know they still watch me. I don’t know where the cameras are or if they can see through walls. Those glassy large eyes could probably see through the walls. I think all the drugs are going to my head. Maybe I was crazy before they took me. Maybe that is why they took me and locked me in this sterile white room. The walls absorb all sounds. It’s maddening when I scream and the sounds soak up the noise. I want my voice to bounce off the walls. I want the screams to rip apart their heads like it does mine. Why can’t they see how mad I am? Do they know how mad I am? Do they know that I would rather die than sit through another test? LET ME OUT! I can hear it in my head, bouncing around the walls of my brain. But my words will never bounce around the room. It’s so quiet. Why is it so quiet? Why do they never speak to me?
LET ME OUT! I try to scream, but the walls eat up my words. The floor eats my tears. I pull at my restraints and for the first time since the crazy bird faces brought me here, the restraints release me. Is it the blue stuff they put into my blood? Did it make me stronger?
No, I was always this strong. My anger is what made me dangerous though.
I jump off the bed and walk to the door. I bang on the metal and the door falls to the floor. I knew I could do that. I could always do that. This drug, is a new drug, but it didn’t weaken the part of me that scares the bird faces. This is why they took me away, because I could destroy them. The government is afraid of me because I can make them pay for all they have done.
The bird faces run through the halls. They shoot at me, but I don’t stop. One runs up to me but I reach out my hand and snap her neck. The cracking of her spine is satisfying for a second and then I remember. My mother. MOM!
My knees hit the cold cement floor and I wipe a tear away. My mother did fight to keep me. But they made me kill her. They made me snap her neck so she couldn’t tell me her secret. She would have come for me, but they made me silence her.
A bird face stands in front of me. He reaches up to take off his mask and tears it away. This is not a bird face, this is a man. I stare at his face, recognizing the blue eyes. My blue eyes. My father. He did not leave my mother. He hid away to keep me safe, but it didn’t work.
Together we kill the bird faces one by one. Their faces do not tear away like the one my father had. These bird faces are not masked men. They are the government. They sick bird faces behind the disappearance of those who have something they want, something that will destroy them once and for all.
I may be one of the unlucky ones, one of the ones that are forgotten, but I do not forget. My madness is not mine, it is the work of the bird faces, the creatures that have tried to claim earth as their own. My father and I will find a way to bring them down. The government will not watch us anymore. The fear the bird faces bring will be defeated.
I hope you enjoyed it. If not, it’s okay. Let me know what you liked or didn’t like about it in the comments. Trust me, I love to hear from you no matter what.