I landed, the last message still reverberating in my head. I looked around, wishing that it had come from someone around me. I stared in to everybody’s eyes, but there was no indication that anyone had said it out loud. I walked up the court, people patting me on the back and congratulating me for my dunk. The old man who had stolen the ball earlier told me that he could do what I did, if he were only a few years younger. Darc replied smartly, saying it would have to be a few millennium. I was literally walking in a fog.
I felt like I had just taken a puff off a dinosaur-bone sized bong. This last message was unlike any of the communication I had heard before. It had shaken me down to my very soul. I could not tell where it had come from, nor did I have the desire to find out. I wanted to forget it had ever happened. I wanted to get on with the basketball game and never engage in telepathic communication again. This was simply too much. I knew where the voice had come from, but the reality of it was just too much for my mind to comprehend.
We played for a few more minutes, but I was just going through the motions. Darc was making like Jason Williams, but I barely noticed. I just wanted to get back to my room and lie down. Forgetting what had happened today was my number one priority.
The basketball game ended a few minutes later. As we returned to the unit, some screaming that came from the Quiet Room startled me. I walked over and peered through the window on the door. The glass was inches thick, but I could still see inside.
The hunting cap guy was screaming at the top of his lungs. He was chest down, strapped to the bed by his ankles and wrists. His glasses and cap were sitting on a nearby chair. His blood-curdling screams were creating an echo that practically came through the door.
“Can I help you, Kevin?” Mae asked, coming from the nurse’s counter.
“Why did he have to be locked up?” I said, glancing at her and then turning back to the Quiet Room prisoner.
“He misbehaved, Kevin. That’s what happens when folks misbehave. They have to be taught what is right and what is wrong. Sometimes in the process they have to be punished in order for them to get the message.”
“Do you think he’s getting the message?” I asked.
“I don’t really know, Kevin. I guess I’d have to be inside his head to know that.” She walked away.
I looked back in to the Quiet Room.
What’s wrong, dude?
Silence.
I guess some folks just can’t be reached. His screams sure could be heard, though. The resounding plea of “Let me out!” could practically be heard down the hall. I started walking down the hallway toward my room.
Please…
Please what?
Please die.
I shook my head and walked in to my room. I was definitely in need of a nap.
I felt like I had just taken a puff off a dinosaur-bone sized bong. This last message was unlike any of the communication I had heard before. It had shaken me down to my very soul. I could not tell where it had come from, nor did I have the desire to find out. I wanted to forget it had ever happened. I wanted to get on with the basketball game and never engage in telepathic communication again. This was simply too much. I knew where the voice had come from, but the reality of it was just too much for my mind to comprehend.
We played for a few more minutes, but I was just going through the motions. Darc was making like Jason Williams, but I barely noticed. I just wanted to get back to my room and lie down. Forgetting what had happened today was my number one priority.
The basketball game ended a few minutes later. As we returned to the unit, some screaming that came from the Quiet Room startled me. I walked over and peered through the window on the door. The glass was inches thick, but I could still see inside.
The hunting cap guy was screaming at the top of his lungs. He was chest down, strapped to the bed by his ankles and wrists. His glasses and cap were sitting on a nearby chair. His blood-curdling screams were creating an echo that practically came through the door.
“Can I help you, Kevin?” Mae asked, coming from the nurse’s counter.
“Why did he have to be locked up?” I said, glancing at her and then turning back to the Quiet Room prisoner.
“He misbehaved, Kevin. That’s what happens when folks misbehave. They have to be taught what is right and what is wrong. Sometimes in the process they have to be punished in order for them to get the message.”
“Do you think he’s getting the message?” I asked.
“I don’t really know, Kevin. I guess I’d have to be inside his head to know that.” She walked away.
I looked back in to the Quiet Room.
What’s wrong, dude?
Silence.
I guess some folks just can’t be reached. His screams sure could be heard, though. The resounding plea of “Let me out!” could practically be heard down the hall. I started walking down the hallway toward my room.
Please…
Please what?
Please die.
I shook my head and walked in to my room. I was definitely in need of a nap.