Carnage. Shrapnel, flying everywhere. I run, face pale and adrenaline coursing through my veins. I see a small child lying dead on the floor. She is still holding her now bloodied teddy bear which is split down the middle, bloodied fluff spilling out, half of her face blown clean off against the wall to her left. It’s a nightmare. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. They’ve taken our guns and our bombs; they are now fighting against us rather than fighting the true enemy that lies out there past the iron gates. Who knew we would be fighting a civil war in the middle of an apocalypse.
Little children run rampant through the living room of Marty and Eleanor’s house. It’s Thanksgiving and the entire family is over. Eleanor watches the children with joy even though she doesn’t know who they are or why they are at her house.
Marty stands in the kitchen with their daughter Lenora’s husband Maxwell drinking a cold and frothy Heineken, talking about fishing and golfing while Lenora runs around the house trying to keep up with the children, little Martin and Melissa, who are 5 and 6 years old respectively.
“Gramma! Gramma! I’m an Indian!” Martin says doing a make-shift rain dance patting his mouth with his paper head dress he made in class the day before. Eleanor smiles even though she has no idea what an Indian is or who the child is before her.
“Such a handsome young man he is!” She looks up at Lenora and smiles. “Who is he?”
Lenora knows not to press her mother too much for the fact it might scare her into hysterics like the last time her, Max, and the kids visited.
“His name is Martin, Ellen.” Lenora says.
After a while, Lenora joins her husband and father in the kitchen and the children go into the main hall to play with their new iPods and iPads. Eleanor sits alone for a few minutes and then it hits her, wouldn’t it be splendid if she went out for the night?
Eleanor grabs her husband’s keys to his car and walks out of the house in just her pink nightgown with no shoes on and shudders as the cold of the concrete presses against her bare feet.
She gets in the car and starts it then pulls out of the driveway, knocking a trashbin over on the curb. She starts to drive aimlessly for a few minutes until it dawns on her that she should go visit her mother; it’s Thanksgiving after all. So she starts to make her way to Avenue F and 5th.
Meanwhile, Lenora walks out of the kitchen and sees that the kids are both watching movies on Netflix. She walks into the other room and doesn’t see her mother. She must be in bed. She goes to the bedroom and knocks on the door but there is no answer so she peeks in. Hmm, not there either. Maybe she is in the bathroom. Once again there is no one in the bathroom either. This is when the panic sets in.
She rushes into the kitchen and says, “Dad, I can’t find Mom. She isn’t in her bedroom or the bathroom, or in the living room. I’ve checked every room in the house. Where could she have gone?”
Marty is taken aback and grabs Lenora by the shoulders, “Are you sure? Are you sure she isn’t here?” A stern look of worry is now on his face. Marty then gets his coat and goes outside to look in the yard and sees Eleanor’s footprints on the muddy pavement. He is overcome, shaking from the cold and fear. He walks back inside and walks to the garage door, opens it, and realizes that his car is gone.
“She’s taken the bloody car!” he says.
“But she can’t drive, her doctor revoked her license a few months ago didn’t he?” Maxwell says.
“That’s right, oh God she could be anywhere by now!” Lenora says while she starts to tear up.
Lenora notices a picture of her mother and uncle playing on a tire-swing is taken out of the picture and on a whim says, “Is mom’s childhood home here in town?”
“Yeah, why do you ask?” Marty says.
“I think I know where she went,” she says.
“Isn’t it wonderful,” Eleanor says while listening to Holiday music in the car to seemingly no one. She smiles as she pulls up to her childhood home. She sees the house and is instantly driven into hysterics.
Suddenly she is overwhelmed with calmness. She can see herself and her brother swinging on the tire-swing in the big front yard from the apple tree. They are smiling and laughing, carrying on in delight. She sees her mother knitting in her rocker on the front porch as the smell of fresh cut green grass invades her senses filling her soul up to the brim with delight.
Marty and Lenora see Eleanor standing in the middle of the yard, covered in muck with outstretched arms. She snaps back to reality when she sees Lenora.
“Where am I? I don’t understand!” she starts to babble and then to cry,” What is this strange place?” “How did I get here?” All of her lucidity has faded away.
She turns to run but trips and falls hard into the mud letting out a loud cry and then goes silent. Marty gets out of the car and runs to her, cradling her in his arms. She looks up at him and is clear eyed for the first time in a long time. He brushes her hair out of her face,
“Marty,” she looks up into his eyes with a smile.
“Yes, Ellen?” he says trying his best to bend the corners of his mouth into a faint smile.
Private collector puts collection of letters by Albert Einstein on Auction Block. The Profiles in History auction house sold 27 letters in the collection Thursday in California. The letters were auctioned separately for a total of $336,500, the Associated Press reports.
“Night meds everyone, time for night meds!” the nurse exclaimed in a boisterous manner.
Patients started scrambling towards the med room. Daniel hung back, there was no point in fighting for a place in the line of nutcases. He picked up his book and started reading again. Morons. A scuffle was already taking place in the line over who would get their medicine first and arguing that the other was cutting in line.
Daniel, intrigued, closed his book and walked over to the med line. The two men were now at blows.
“I was here first motherfucker” Sean said, he was one of the few people who actually talked to Daniel.
“No you weren’t” Michael said.
Sean punched Michael square in the face, Michael’s nose cracking on impact. Blood poured from his broken nose and he tried to fend off Sean’s punches that came in patterns of three and fours.
Soon the other mindless zombies joined into the fight, beating each other over the head, stabbing each other with bendi-pens. That was when Daniel got hit for the first time. He went wild with anger. He turned around and grabbed the man by the hair and smashed his face down onto his knee which lead to a cracking sound of the guy’s skull. Now there was no stopping him, he was on top of him bashing his head against the linoleum, his skull cracking at the impact each time.
Suddenly, a code was called over the speakers.
“Code blue! I repeat Code Blue! All staff report to the Carrington Building.”
Daniel was too busy beating the man’s face to a pulp to care however and when he got up he started dragging him up and down the halls, leaving a bloody trail each way he went.
“You want some, motherfuckers?” he said. The whole group stopped and looked in on his gruesome trophy with a look of horror and terror in their eyes.
A few more seconds and the staff and guards were on him, tackling him to the ground. Daniel didn’t fight though, even though he was struggling to breathe under all of the weight that was on top of him. That was when they stuck him, a mixture he knew all too well; Haldol, Atavan, and Benadryl. One of the staff dragged him up onto his feet and then to the “quiet room” a.k.a. Solitary and threw him in, locking the door tight behind him.
Daniel slumped onto the mattress in the room that was as dirty as the floor was. It smelled of piss, body odor, and vomit. The springs stabbed him in the stomach and he fought to stay conscious, eventually losing the battle to a deep sleep on the dirty mattress.
When Daniel woke up, they were transferring him to the Criminal Ward. He was confused until it was mentioned that the guy who Daniel beat the shit out of was dead and as they pulled up to the building he realized that he might as well have been dead too. What horrors awaited him inside were too horrible to describe.
This is my reading agenda for the rest of this week.
Anyone else setting reading goals for this summer?
- Finish Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
- Read one Christian book (Joyce Meyers maybe?)
- Finish Bad Games
- Try to read at least 1-2 hours a day.
- Analyze what I have read this week and the meaning of each book separately.