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The brain is like a balanced dish. Each section has their own part to play. In a balanced dish, there's all kinds of food that have their own 'spots'. Vegetables on the bottom left, meat across the edges, cheese on the bottom right, sweets on the top left and bread at the top top bottom right. Everything is where it's supposed to be and not once do the sections touch or pass each other. When the food collides, it's jumbled. When cheese crosses the vegetables, an organised person may want to pick up the cheese and put it back to its original spot.
I don't work like that. I was told that my brain works more like tangled wires, not that I really listened. But if the food is all jumbled, saying "I want to eat the vegetables" isn't so simple when there's sugar all over the vegetables. So much for health and balance.
Speaking of food, taste is a strange thing for me. Instead of sweets, I feel like I consumed meat instead... or they'll taste like sweets but not quite. 'Not quite' is a phrase that I've grown accustomed to. Nothing feels quite right or wrong. Everything is blurred, pretty much. That's what I was told, that everything is blurred for me. What I see, what I hear, what I eat, what I feel, what I touch, what I smell...
I don't know why they told me that. At all. What the hell is their deal??? My brain feels fuzzy enough... doesn't help that I've lost blood and went through surgery and have read cards from strangers wishing me a 'good recovery'. It's blurry. So, so blurry. My senses, my brain, everything. I have an idea on what happened, obviously. How could I forget that? But I wish I wasn't there to hear the sounds and speeches of pity. Maybe if I had done it in the heart, maybe if I did it more than once...
Either way, I'm alive. I'm here now because all of a sudden, these strangers that didn't care before decided that I should stay. Guess they didn't want to give me mercy or any hint of satisfaction... keeping me alive like a weak guinea pig.
Guess that's what I am though. A guinea pig. A weak, stumbling, shaking guinea pig. That's certainly how everyone's been treating me the past week. It's not that I hate anyone or want to hurt any of these people, I don't think that's who I am. Well, 'who I am' isn't so clear to me. Not that I have amnesia or anything, I know my name and everything. But I could be anything, in a sense. I think of myself as a guinea pig. People watch me, they wait for me, their eyes trailing my entire body whilst speaking like they're morally superior, waiting for me. Waiting. Waiting for me. Waiting to see what I do or where I run to next.
I just wanted to be free. Out of the cage, out of the confines of whatever I'm trapped in. Whether it's a planet, a cage, the insides of a beast... I don't know right now. This could all be a really big lab setting, they talked about it in class. Giving me hints about my world but never telling me. Giving me messages and warnings and signs... but never is it clear. Never. Clever... that word I'm not. I know. I know I should be clever, but I'm not. Far from it. Maybe if I was clever, I'd understand.
God, I don't want to be here anymore. I want to leave. I want to run away. I want to scream until my throat goes raw and bleeds out. But I'm tired, I'm so. goddamn. tired. I don't even have it in me to get up from here. It's too much, it hurts. My head is screaming out and I can't do anything to stop it...
"Morning, Fujimoto. Your breakfast."
One of the male doctors walked into the room with my morning tray. I should smile and be grateful. I attempted to force a smile on my face, for friendliness. He's one of the main people treating me. I forgot his name but he said at least 10 times that he specialises in 'cases like mine'. Not like I know what that means exactly.
"Thanks."
Was all I could muster up. Admittedly, speaking and forming sentences is strange. Jumbled, even. That's what they said when they did the brain tests and shit, that my brain is tangled. Something like that. He's lucky that I had spoken today, that I had used my brain to speak 'normally'... not to mention whatever they pumped into my system. That hadn't helped my 'wiring' one bit. Probably so that I wouldn't escape or scream. Makes you feel more like a kidnapping victim than a patient.
The doctor turned towards the machines and supplies around me, ensuring that everything was in check. That I was alive. I hated that. I get he doesn't want to be responsible for me but then why can't he just release me and get his paycheck?
"How have you been feeling?"
They've asked me this question 3 times a day. I've noticed. I sat up slightly, eyes as hazy as ever and asked.
"How long have I... here?"
Detangling is going to be harder than anyone anticipated. Do they regret giving me those calmy clammy meds? Well... if you think about it. Take one m away and clamy and calmy are basically the same word. The same thing. The doctor stared at me with that uncanny calmness and cleared his throat.
"9 days. It's Saturday today."
Nine days... so it wasn't 7? It wasn't just a single week? It felt like seven. Is my brain really rotting? I can feel it emitting a smell... not like anyone here acknowledges it. With their masks, they pretend not to smell it. But I do. I smell it clear. Clear as oceans. Speaking of oceans, maybe that's what my brain is. A dirty water source consumed by dirty plastics. But everything is dirty. People are dirty, I'm dirty... filthy.
So it was Thursday. I should've known. Last Thursday. I should remember. Thursday... it was a school day. God knows why it's called school. If you remove s and h, it sounds like cool which is complete bullshit because school is the least cool thing you can imagine. It's a trap. That's why it's called school. It wants to fool us.
"So, Fujimoto. How have you been feeling?"
He asked the question again, attempting to keep me on topic. Okay, so the question has been asked to me 3 times a day and they've been doing this for... 6 days? Maybe? Not like they could ask when I was getting fixed up. I was out. So 3 times 6... what would that be? 9? Is that how it all connects?
"You... ask that lot."
I responded, my brain not lining up again. Nothing lining up... well, things are starting to line up. Vaguely. All the clues... do they really expect a 12 almost 13 year old to have this in the bag?
"We want to ensure that by the time you're discharged, you're not a danger to yourself or others."
Wanting to keep me alive... Alive. Am I really alive? Truly? Or is this some purgatory? I don't know. The sounds I hear don't feel like I'm near the pearly gates. In fact, the whispers and rotting smell feels like some kind of funeral on acid. Acid... am I on acid? Did they give me acid? I don't even know what they gave me. It can be anything. Poison, some addictive drug, something else that'll make me writhe in agony. It could be in the food that I'm about to eat...
"I..."
Was the only sound that is releasing from me at the moment. I need to answer the question. Answer. Answer... I just want to leave. Let me leave, let me LEAVE. I can barely even act composed or control my breathing... I gulped and slowly nodded.
"I'm fine. Tired."
There, that's an answer. Better than nothing, right? I don't know. I don't know... The doctor stared at me again, like I had just said a mistruth. distruth. dishonesty. I hate his stare. It reeks... behind his eyes, I can feel emptiness and voids that'll never end. Let this end. I want this all to end... like a play when the curtains close. I want that. I want the curtains shut firmly, forever. No going back. Right now.
"Let me go... I'm done..."
I requested without thinking, my voice croaky. I could feel my hands slowly circling around my weeping shoulders... It only makes my stomach hurt and my throat close up. I can't even make grunts or scream in pain anymore, I'm just tired. I'm done. I should've done it in the heart... why did I...
"We need to keep you safe, Fujimoto. The counsellor will talk to you later."
"No... I..."
I quickly responded, trembling more than I had done since the past couple of days.
"I want..."
I paused. I don't know what I want. Eternal peace, rest, home, my mom, school, Sanno, Alice, quiet, solitude, people, I don't know. Maybe I want all of them and none at once. I don't know. I just don't know. He just stood there, waiting patiently for my response... but none will come out. Nothing will ever come out of this throat, because my brain can't. It can't do anything.
All it can do is try, and never succeed.