A Bus To Memphis - 11.15.99
I can't sleep. I'm too damn nervous. The wheels under the panel at my feet are trekking up a steady hum with the miles of pavement we're crossing and with each additional mile I look out the window, watching the twilight landscape zipping past. It's like I'm flying. It's like a freefall into the unexpected and all I can do is grin inside, my chest feeling like it's been pumped with heavy lead for each breath I'm too excited to take.
My mind wanders and before I know it, I've exhausted myself. Granted, jumping out a second story window and running like hell for the next 10 minutes at a dead out run will do that when you're still recovering from being in the hospital. I was lucky I only stunned my legs and didn't break them with that fucked up stunt. I was also lucky I found the damned greyhound station even after all that. I shelled out some of the money I'd stolen from my father's wallet and bought myself the first ticket out of state I saw; Memphis, TN. Fine, anywhere but here.
My mind falls off the world for a little while. I'm dreaming. At least it's not like some of the fucked up dreams I've been having with the off the wall batshit ferry man back in the hospital. No, I'm imagining myself back in hospital. I'm getting ready to leave. They are wheeling me out in this crazy looking chair and I hear the doctor saying to my father that my eye should heal up and return to normal soon. About five minutes later of trying to figure out what the fuck they are talking about, I catch a glimpse of myself in the car's window. I see one side of my face normal, ordinary as can be and the other is dark. There's a long thin scab on my cheek and a dark circle around my eye like someone slugged me. The vessels in the white, some of them have popped, leaving it looking like I've got some crazy blood eye, my iris just as dark. There's a dark shadow looming over me, swirling like a river of black smoke and I swear to christ I hear fucking whispers as I'm looking at this. My face drops into an utter state of confusion and they pop me into the car and the vision changes.
They're right. A few weeks past that into October and it does start clearing up. The iris stays dark though, one eye a bright blue, the other this deep mottled brown. Makes no fucking sense to me, but I've got bigger problems. The bitch has convinced the doctors with her ample charm also known as her checkbook that I'm alright to be sent home for now. They agree, but on the condition that I be taken to therapy. I fucking hate therapy, those cockswilling sons of bitches don't know a goddamn thing about my life and would be lucky if they could tell the difference between their asses and a hole in the wall. My dog had more sense then these idiots and he popped the bitch's yoga ball trying to fuck it constantly.
But I go, I don't put up any outward fuss. Mom's over there so slicked up by the sympathy cards, she's not paying any attention to me just yet. I do this and I'm sitting in the office. This guy walks by me, maybe 5 years older than me. I'm thinking he's got some sick problems cause he's shakin' like he's speedballin' on top of some other shit, yelling at the top of his lungs nonsensical words you'd expect in a Jodi Foster movie, when all of a sudden he turns and he looks straight at me and lets out this piercing scream. He's pointing at me like I'm the fucking devil incarnate and just wailing his head off.
And that's when I hear it in my head.
This sound. It's like... It's like when one of those asian bastards in the fucking samurai movies draw their swords. That sharp ping that at the right rate and the right tone just shakes through your head like someone digging their fucking fingers into your skull. Jesus it hurts and I'm grabbing at my face like I'm going to rip it the fuck off trying to get that sound out of my head. I start to scream and there's people on me in a second. It's like a fucking champion dogpile out here, like they're expecting me to jump up and start slaughtering any minute. Leapfrog gone all kinds of wrong. They drag me off in another direction and it takes like five minutes before I hear only a dull sensation of the ringing in my head.
Then slowly they all leave me in this locked office, but I still hear them whispering around me, asking questions, commenting, a few even sound like they might be yelling. I start to think maybe I've gone deaf or crazy until the doctor comes in. He pokes and prods at me and asks a few questions. I don't even know what I said in response but it's obviously good enough and they send me off to see my therapist.
I wake back on the bus to the sounds of those whispers again. I think I might be dreaming again because that goddamned ferry man from my dream in the hospital is sitting in the seat just across the walkrow of the bus, staring at me. Just this big shape of shadow with that creepy fucking grin. I can hear the coins chink in his pocket as he rises and makes his way up to the bus driver at the front. He turns back to look at me, patting the fare machine next to the driver and his grin goes wider. My eye feels like it's on fire all of a sudden so I reach up to grab it and when I look up again he's gone and there's just this guy sleeping there with his head leaned against the window behind the bus driver's little dais like I was a minute ago... or fuck, how long has it been?
Anyway, my bandages are showing around my wrists and there's this one fat fuck who is starting to pay attention. So I sit back down and pull the sleeves of my shirt down over my hands, leaning back against my chair and letting my head turn naturally back to the window at my side.
What the hell was that about?
My mind wanders and before I know it, I've exhausted myself. Granted, jumping out a second story window and running like hell for the next 10 minutes at a dead out run will do that when you're still recovering from being in the hospital. I was lucky I only stunned my legs and didn't break them with that fucked up stunt. I was also lucky I found the damned greyhound station even after all that. I shelled out some of the money I'd stolen from my father's wallet and bought myself the first ticket out of state I saw; Memphis, TN. Fine, anywhere but here.
My mind falls off the world for a little while. I'm dreaming. At least it's not like some of the fucked up dreams I've been having with the off the wall batshit ferry man back in the hospital. No, I'm imagining myself back in hospital. I'm getting ready to leave. They are wheeling me out in this crazy looking chair and I hear the doctor saying to my father that my eye should heal up and return to normal soon. About five minutes later of trying to figure out what the fuck they are talking about, I catch a glimpse of myself in the car's window. I see one side of my face normal, ordinary as can be and the other is dark. There's a long thin scab on my cheek and a dark circle around my eye like someone slugged me. The vessels in the white, some of them have popped, leaving it looking like I've got some crazy blood eye, my iris just as dark. There's a dark shadow looming over me, swirling like a river of black smoke and I swear to christ I hear fucking whispers as I'm looking at this. My face drops into an utter state of confusion and they pop me into the car and the vision changes.
They're right. A few weeks past that into October and it does start clearing up. The iris stays dark though, one eye a bright blue, the other this deep mottled brown. Makes no fucking sense to me, but I've got bigger problems. The bitch has convinced the doctors with her ample charm also known as her checkbook that I'm alright to be sent home for now. They agree, but on the condition that I be taken to therapy. I fucking hate therapy, those cockswilling sons of bitches don't know a goddamn thing about my life and would be lucky if they could tell the difference between their asses and a hole in the wall. My dog had more sense then these idiots and he popped the bitch's yoga ball trying to fuck it constantly.
But I go, I don't put up any outward fuss. Mom's over there so slicked up by the sympathy cards, she's not paying any attention to me just yet. I do this and I'm sitting in the office. This guy walks by me, maybe 5 years older than me. I'm thinking he's got some sick problems cause he's shakin' like he's speedballin' on top of some other shit, yelling at the top of his lungs nonsensical words you'd expect in a Jodi Foster movie, when all of a sudden he turns and he looks straight at me and lets out this piercing scream. He's pointing at me like I'm the fucking devil incarnate and just wailing his head off.
And that's when I hear it in my head.
This sound. It's like... It's like when one of those asian bastards in the fucking samurai movies draw their swords. That sharp ping that at the right rate and the right tone just shakes through your head like someone digging their fucking fingers into your skull. Jesus it hurts and I'm grabbing at my face like I'm going to rip it the fuck off trying to get that sound out of my head. I start to scream and there's people on me in a second. It's like a fucking champion dogpile out here, like they're expecting me to jump up and start slaughtering any minute. Leapfrog gone all kinds of wrong. They drag me off in another direction and it takes like five minutes before I hear only a dull sensation of the ringing in my head.
Then slowly they all leave me in this locked office, but I still hear them whispering around me, asking questions, commenting, a few even sound like they might be yelling. I start to think maybe I've gone deaf or crazy until the doctor comes in. He pokes and prods at me and asks a few questions. I don't even know what I said in response but it's obviously good enough and they send me off to see my therapist.
I wake back on the bus to the sounds of those whispers again. I think I might be dreaming again because that goddamned ferry man from my dream in the hospital is sitting in the seat just across the walkrow of the bus, staring at me. Just this big shape of shadow with that creepy fucking grin. I can hear the coins chink in his pocket as he rises and makes his way up to the bus driver at the front. He turns back to look at me, patting the fare machine next to the driver and his grin goes wider. My eye feels like it's on fire all of a sudden so I reach up to grab it and when I look up again he's gone and there's just this guy sleeping there with his head leaned against the window behind the bus driver's little dais like I was a minute ago... or fuck, how long has it been?
Anyway, my bandages are showing around my wrists and there's this one fat fuck who is starting to pay attention. So I sit back down and pull the sleeves of my shirt down over my hands, leaning back against my chair and letting my head turn naturally back to the window at my side.
What the hell was that about?