Illumination
My name is Lance, and I’m an insomniac. That makes me a victim, does it not?
I’ve been suffering from this disorder ever since I could remember. When I was a kid, Mum was always on a chair beside my bed, reading books to me: boring books, about war and set in old archaic English. I remember how, most of the times, she would be caught in tranquil slumber before my eyes would even start drooping. When I grew to be a teenager, Dad set me garage chores which got me down and dirty - the way I liked it - and would wear me down, thus leading me to sleep.
And when I became an adult, and Mum and Dad were no longer there, I had found my own way to dealt with the situation.
Doctors’ appointment on Mondays and Wednesdays, 12 noon. Psychiatrist’s appointment on Tuesdays, Fridays and Saturdays, 2.30 post meridiem. Catch late TV shows every night from 11 post meridiem until the next morning. I didn’t have a job, for Mom and Dad had left me a huge inheritance, and I was too caught up in this disorder to work.
Then, when things had gotten desperate; when my body had gotten accustomed to the schedule; when the medicines didn’t work; when my nose did not think the aromas to be calming, it happened.
There was no way I could have prevented it, for it was not my fault.
I had gotten to see Dr. Morris, the psychiatrist. We were discussing on why the doctor’s pills and aromas were not as effective as it was before. It was him who was the real criminal here.
He had said on that fateful day, “Mr. Silver,” that was my father’s name “what tires you out most?”
When I was unable to answer his question, he rephrased, “If you were to think about only one thing before drifting to sleep, which will tire you out completely, what will that thought be?”
And I understood perfectly what he meant. And my answer was, “Death.”
He wasn’t perturbed by my answer. You must think that I, being the diseased one, was undisturbed by my reply. Well, you’re wrong! If I could be granted one wish now - two months after that session - I would have wished for Dr. Morris to probe a different answer from me!
As I said, it was not my fault.
That nasty old man advised me to think about death before I went to sleep, for the thoughts would tire me out and my gentler side would fear of thinking, simultaneously causing me to fall asleep; causing me able to escape from the supposedly horrid thoughts or images.
His degree was the only thing that had assured me. Oh, if only I had known how wrong I was to heed such an advice.
So, the following morning, after the usual late night shows, which had stopped being so interesting to watch at 6 in the morning, I switched off the television, draped the curtains over the shut windows, and headed to bed in pitch darkness.
And I started thinking about death.
Mom and Dad came to mind first. I thought of the way they died: Mom overdosed; Dad distraught. I started thinking like them before they chose to die. Mom must have thought that she was a huge burden to me and Dad. She must have spent every single day; every other hour, planning her own death, or perhaps even committing (I noticed the number of the different marks on her body seemed to grow every other day). Dad was clearly deranged after Mom left us. He felt like he hadn’t done enough to keep Mom alive, and therefore had led himself wifeless and me motherless.
To conclude, they must have felt miserable and somewhat frustrated.
So, that’s how I began to feel everyday. I even stopped going for appointments. One night, while the television was on, I started thinking about death: ‘What would Death be like?’ and I ran into the storage room, screaming. I grabbed my heaviest baseball bat - made of metal and almost as long as my torso - and crashed the bat onto the wooden box right after. And this I did because death is a silent procedure. I didn’t think that dead people watched television, either.
Sometimes, I took late night walks, at around 3 in the morning. I had decided that if I was the Grim Reaper, I would be watching the streets stealthily; stalking the night away; awaiting my next victim.
That was how I met Kyle, Roden, Melissa, Anne, Manik, Frasier and Pae.
They joined me the same way: a twist of the neck, and eyes that stared straight into your soul as though saying I wish you were one of us, too.
And you ask me, Why? The answer is simple: their eyes met mine and I understood they needed to rest, too. I understood, especially when they started screaming for help as I approached them. Perhaps, you think, they didn’t want it. But I can tell you, undoubtedly, that they needed it.
The authorities eventually found me. Ossey, the eighth target, was my mistake, and the only mistake I would admit in doing. He was much too afraid of facing the end of his life, as I had failed to convince him it was the right thing to do. His hands were quicker than his ability to accept, and had called the boys in blue before the deed was done.
I did not hesitate to go downtown. When the men interrogated me, I told them to speak to Kaden Baxter Morris. A week after they kept me in the police department, I did not falter at their decision to put me in jail. I did not hire a lawyer. And when they told me I would be executed, I begged them, “In the most painful manner, if you could.”
They called me sick and told me I was to fear Death. I assured them, “I’ve been diseased my whole life, and I’m not afraid to finally fall asleep.”
And now I’ve come to realise, that I ought to thank Dr. Morris for the advice. I finally can fall asleep, and nothing will disturb me awake. Perhaps I’ll ask him to come over in 7 days’ time, to see the light through the transparent glass.
YEYEH(= hahaha.
okay i’ve decided to veoh up Hot Shot, found epis 1 and 2!!!
but both are like 1.5 hrs long each, dunno how that happened. but YAY Show Lou!
oh btw i was watching MTV JK Hits [at first,i was like "Just Kidding Hits HAHA"] and Show Lou and Kumi Koda’s Twinkle came on. wah, gay man! nice song. :] Show’s english is so cute as always.
i am entering this post, without knowing how my post will look like when I click Publish. hahaha.
if it turns out weird, sorry lor.
if it turns out okay / nth happen bah, k lor, give it a rest man.
btw i played STDs just now, and reached Black level. i cannt wait to finish up that level [though i can only play it when Jo is playing it too i was so late haha] and then do everything all over again.
i feel so sad, being unable to sleep. so awake, and so sad!
when someone mentions your name, i shudder.
it’s like i’m scared to admit i feel like something’s not right.
All the choices you’ve made,
and the paths that I take
It was never enough
eeh well, i guess i’m not a girl of my word boohoo!
-click here luh-
HHAHAHA:D
