God's mistake [4/?]
anonymous
March 21 2009, 19:14:58 UTC
It's May. Things are blooming. He's not out in it, but he can watch it from the window. Through the bars, the colours of green, red and yellow welcome him with happy smiles from the park underneath in which his presents isn't wanted.
Ivan is locked up on third day for ruining a television as Alfred's face showed up on the screen. Maybe because it was an expensive tv, maybe because he had thrown it at another patient, he wasn't sure where it went wrong, but they told him he would have to stay in his room for a week.
"They can't break me, they can't break me," he whispers, walking around in small circles in front of the barred window. His faced is scarred, he has tried to rip of his skin in hope of growing a new one. But they stopped him. 'No one can grow a new skin. You must live with what you have,' the psychologist had said. Ivan shakes the head and stops. "Like he knows anything. He doesn't have to wear my skin every day."
It's been a while since he last shed a tear, and though he feels like doing it now, it seems like he's empty. The more medicine they feed him, the more his feelings seems to dissappear. Left is only the animalistic senses; he feels, he needs to survive, make his way through every day as was it the last. He can't allow himself to be kind to anyone, not even for his own sake, 'cause that would be like offering his enemy the throath. And somewhere inside his heart, he regrets having to become a simple animal.
When he was stronger, everyone thought of him as such. He was brutal, he would show his enemies no mercy, and he would hurt whoever tried to break free from him.
But he would also cry. He would sit at night with Toris and cry 'til his heart couldn't handle it anymore. He would also smile, when the others listened to him, and he would give presents to Raivis, when he went on visits with him.
Now, he couldn't even be cruel. When he showed anger, it was only because his instincts told him to do so. When he hurt people, it was only for his own survival. Ivan felt less human every day.
Ivan is locked up on third day for ruining a television as Alfred's face showed up on the screen. Maybe because it was an expensive tv, maybe because he had thrown it at another patient, he wasn't sure where it went wrong, but they told him he would have to stay in his room for a week.
"They can't break me, they can't break me," he whispers, walking around in small circles in front of the barred window. His faced is scarred, he has tried to rip of his skin in hope of growing a new one. But they stopped him. 'No one can grow a new skin. You must live with what you have,' the psychologist had said. Ivan shakes the head and stops. "Like he knows anything. He doesn't have to wear my skin every day."
It's been a while since he last shed a tear, and though he feels like doing it now, it seems like he's empty. The more medicine they feed him, the more his feelings seems to dissappear. Left is only the animalistic senses; he feels, he needs to survive, make his way through every day as was it the last. He can't allow himself to be kind to anyone, not even for his own sake, 'cause that would be like offering his enemy the throath. And somewhere inside his heart, he regrets having to become a simple animal.
When he was stronger, everyone thought of him as such. He was brutal, he would show his enemies no mercy, and he would hurt whoever tried to break free from him.
But he would also cry. He would sit at night with Toris and cry 'til his heart couldn't handle it anymore. He would also smile, when the others listened to him, and he would give presents to Raivis, when he went on visits with him.
Now, he couldn't even be cruel. When he showed anger, it was only because his instincts told him to do so. When he hurt people, it was only for his own survival. Ivan felt less human every day.
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