Supernatural Story by TBA
This was written for my College Prepratory English Literature and
Composition Class
"What was that?" he spun around.
Nothing there. Absolutely nothing. Just a white wall. That's all there
ever was. No colors. Just white. Look up���white; look down���white; look
around���white. Even the clothes he was wearing���white. AT least the leather
straps off-set the pastiness even his once tan bare feet were starting to
mirror.
"Aw, heck!" He screamed this time. This was not a good thing. This was
bad... very, very bad. There it was again���that minute, light brush against
his cheek���a tickle. Not just any tickle. It wasn't like when your older
brothers pin you to the floor and go ape on your ribs. No, this was
intimate���the way you tickle under a baby's chin and say, "Goochie goochie
goo," or the way your lover lightly slides her fingers down your arm,
giving the hairs on your neck reason to reach for God.
A squeak down the hall.
"Orderly!"
The medicine cart continued down the hall.
"Orderly!"
The squeaking stopped outside his door. The window slammed open,
revealing two eyes. Alec was sweating; near tears. The tickle was no
longer a tickle but an itch from hell.
"Orderly!" he screamed again. The eyes just stared, and he watched as
they smiled. The window snapped shut. Alec waited for the sound of keys
in the lock���nothing. "Where are you going?"
Giggles.
The itch was murder!
Murder. The word echoed in his brain.
The itch couldn't be scratched! Because of murder he was itching.
The squeaking resumed.
The headache! The itch!
Screams down the hall.
The headache. It hurts! NO! Stop it!
The cart stopped.
The itch!
Screams! Then, "No!" from down the hall.
The headache.
The lights flickered. Bang! An explosion down the hall. Alec rolled his
beard along the wall, finally scratching that itch. The clatter of an
ocerturned cart echoed through the corridor. The sound of broken medicine
vials clicked down the hallway and came to a dead stop at Alec's door.
There was never any sound in his cell. Sometimes he doubted he was even
speaking, and whether the screams down the hall ever once in a while were
even real.
They'd stopped counseling him. They'd even stopped giving him pills. The
little beige and blue pills���
"Not the headache again!"
People down the hall; a scream!
"My head!" Alec was no longer just thinking about the pain. He screamed
in agony. He'd done the same at the trial. Screamed in agony. That's why
he was here and not some prison. Hospitals were so cold to him. He needed
to be touched and spoken to.
"I'll kill him! Alex can't keep doing this!" More voices murmuring
agreement���weeping.
"No! Leave me alone!"
Foot steps. They were coming to get him again.
"Stop it! Stop it!"
"Alex!" The jingle of keys in a lock. "Calm down. It'll all be okay!"
He whimpered, "Oh no... ohhh no..." Alec sommersaulted into the corner to
guard his head. The door swung open. It bounced off of the padded wall
without making a single sound, but Alec heard it slam. "No!" Alec jumped
to his feet and stared the entering doctor down.
"Alex, no!" the doctor was on his knees, the syringe fell from his hand
as he through it up to stop some imaginary assailant from attacking his
brain.
"The headache!"
The doctor grabbed at the air���his head felt like it was going to explode.
Then it did, and Alec screamed. The explosion of blood and tiny fragments
of bone covered the white walls.
Alarms were sounding all over the hospital.
Alec looked around his cell. Seeing how the blood had painted the white
walls red, he hummed the Rolling Stones's song, "Paint it Black" as he made
his first conscious step through the door that had contained him in eight
years.
"I see my red door and I want to paint it black," his low, quiet voice
echoed down the hall as it filled with guards, and nurses and orderlies
fled the building.
Bullets flew���
When whatever it is hits the fan, he thought, it won't fly evenly.
Alec grabbed at his head unsuccessfully through his straight jacket. Then
one of the buckles snapped off. Then another.
"Alex! Stop!" a voice came through the rain of bullets to find Alec's
ears.
Alec looked toward the voice, to a young girl, not much over 20. "My name
is Alec!" The girl let out a scream as their eyes met, and his ice blue
eyes became green, then dark brown, whirlpools, sucking her into his
soul���his world. She fell to the floor in a dead faint. Bullets which had
previously been unable to find their target now struck down three time
convicted killer with destructive accuracy.
Alec fell to the ground. A whisper escaped with his last breath, "Oh,
Lord... what have I done?" The alarms stopped. The genius was gone. It
could have been avoided���all of it���if they had just called him by his name!
His name was Alec. His name was Alec, not Alex. That's all there was to
it. The murder, the destruction, the mind control���all of it���could have
been avoided if they would have taken the courtesy of saying his name as it
was given to him. He was put away because of others' stupidity, that could
never happen in our society, could it?
The End