musing..

..over the past week, I remember close to nothing. Have I truly wasted the week away or has my memory by some off-worldly means been tampered with, the latter seems more likely. My hands, wrapped in bandages, so many questions, when, how, but most importantly why. Using the calendar beside me as a guide, the days since my last post slowly form. Like mist on a lonely mountain side, memories swirl in my mind, barely tangible, ever evading my grasp. Scattered images of MRT rides, shopping, school bells and men in white coats, zoom past, each less real than the other. But the fire, always there..burning always burning
Trying my best to recall, I remember the nausea aboard the pan-island MRT, but where was I going? *flash* Bugis market, throngs of people scurrying about, empty souls searching for denied escape. Shops at every corner, a never-ending maze of clothing and accessories, did I buy anything? I'm sure I did, why can't I remember! Monday, back to the constant blur-that-is-school. Struggling to make it through the day, like an apple among oranges, a fruit, but still never an orange. I tried fitting in, but I was different. *flash* a fire safety demonstration, students being thought how to fight flames, I remember laughing, why the hell would I be laughing?? Back to school, what happened? yes, it's coming back, endless periods of math, time lulled away in my corner, still these surely are only fragments of my days.
*flash* lying cold in the rain, beaten, bruised, did anyone do this to me. But how can it be, there isn't a scratch on me now, save these bandages. But it all seemed so real, the burns, the pain, the cold rain, numbing as it was sharp, my only relief. No it had to have happened, the only question now is when..Closing my eyes, trying to make any sense of anything, pleading, begging, for a sign. Anything to know that my mind is still my own.
No school on Friday, but why? There was a church service in the morning, yes, church, Good Friday, I remember Father and Mother telling me not to worry, that they loved me exactly the way I was, I was special. I remember the service, and then what? Darkness? A darkness so deep it almost seemed alive, but why? All these questions, yet no answers. What am I missing?
Then Saturday, happiness, warmth. Slept in late, and then I woke up. I remember now..the men, my god their eyes..black, black as if fueled by the very darkness of hell. Mother was screaming, I struggled, yes I fought, I should've been scared, but no, I felt..felt exhilaration, joy even..fire..my room was on fire, my hands wreathed in flames, fighting for my life. Father shouting..asking me to run, but it was too late, too late now for anything. I heard it, felt the dart. Had to fight the darkness, always it haunted me..always..and then nothing
I remember now, I remember everything, their so called doctors, the experiments and drugs, this padded room that serves as my prison yet the only haven I know. They knew I was different. They're coming, for my evaluation, they think I'm asleep, no cameras in my cell so they wouldn't have seen my vomit out my food, should've realised it was drugged earlier. They know I'm different, they just don't know how much. They've been trying to find out..guess I'll show them..the smell of burning linen, linen from my bandaged hands, hands shrouded in flames..as the flames grew, smiling, I remembered, I've always liked fire....

TBC