The Manic Episode Part III: Close Your Eyes

“You really are crazy?” Guardian Cop says at me while staring into my soul.
“Functionally crazy,” I respond in an almost humorous tone. 
That makes Guardian Nurse laugh. Across the hall there is an overweight prepubescent boy and his father visiting a patient.  The boy won’t stop looking at me and acting out martial arts moves.  He calls me “The Assassin.”  I stare at them long enough that the father requests that the patient be moved and they leave.

Fast forward in time and a young Indian doctor in a white coat approaches my bedside.  She asks me if I’ve ever suffered abuse and I break down crying.  I try to gather the words to explain how my older brother would beat me when he hit puberty and knew who was stronger than me.  How after he brutalized me he would then go and tell my parents that I started it so I would get in trouble.  How I was punished even though I was bleeding all over my face and my attempts to defend myself were useless against a stronger and angrier opponent.  Don’t worry about me readers.  I hit puberty 2 years later and I became much worse than he was at that age.  And I did not forget what he did to me.  Three months prior to the events of this story, he attempted to punch me in the face and I broke his fucking kneecap.  I’ll never be his victim again.  Now he has a permanent reminder of that.

Carrying on with the story.  I tell the nice doctor this story and she writes something down.  I don’t mention the molestation by my cousin since I wasn’t ready to discuss that with strangers and I hated psychiatrists.  Since my first answer satisfies her requirements, she moves me on to the next round of testing.  She holds a clipboard in front of me.  The attached paper has a triangle and a circle.  She asks me to duplicate those as best I can.  My right hand is cuffed so I do my best version of a triangle and a circle using my left hand.  They are not good, but she understands and gives me one more test.  She says to write a response to this text: “CLOSE YOUR EYES.”  With my left hand, I respond: “I AM TIRED.”  She’s satisfied and has me sign the paper.  She walks away and out of my life. I follow the instructions from the paper and close my eyes.  I hadn’t slept more than 10 hours over the past 7 days so it was time for me to give in.

I briefly open my eyes to meet a new doctor, Kevin Kitchen.  He’s going to sew up the gaping wound under my arm.  Guardian Cop undoes my handcuffs.  I turn away from the doctor and close my eyes per the instructions of the almighty paper.  I don’t feel anything and he finishes in a few minutes.  Cuffs go on and I start drifting away.  I hear someone say, “they are going to teach him some crazy shit.”  I don’t know what that means and am too tired to ask.

I wake in my bed with my eyes half shut.  I see a muscular black man standing over me talking to Guardian Cop.  He’s a Beast and seems to look down on my Guardian.  I close my eyes before he can see me awake.
“Why didn’t they elbow him in the face?” he asks.
“He did.  It didn’t work.” Guardian Cop responds.  “I’m telling you man, this guy is better than you think.”
“It doesn’t matter.  We retrain them.”
The Beast grabs my cuffed arm with an iron grip.  He takes off the handcuff and secures a heavier handcuff in its place.  He leaves without another word and I quickly fall back asleep.


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