August 1985
Events seemed to happen in segments separated by blank spots. I was standing behind the counter at the store, telling Fatso and F to leave me alone. Then they began testing me, just playing games. I had the gun in my mouth, or maybe an imaginary one, because I never did see a gun at all. When I realized I was sort of awake, Fatso said, "It's a gun." I pulled it out of my mouth, not wanting to kill myself. Then he said, "It's drugs." It didn't take long for me to imagine that it was a squirt gun filled with some drug, so I squirted it in my mouth several times. If there even was a gun.
After another blank spot, I had the gun to my head again, my eyes closed, and I heard, to my right, a woman laugh. I thought it was KS, the woman who played question/answer with me at AN's house. I said, or thought, "There's that b**ch." I swung the gun in her direction, and I heard a lot of shuffling around from that side. The cash register was to my right, with a shelving display on the other side. The shelving served as a barrier between me and anyone on the other side. I did hear shuffling, and then I blanked out. I think they told me to stop, I'm not sure.
They pushed back time, and made me repeat what happened, and narrate I think, what just happened. When it got to the part where I swung the fingergun, or whatever, in the direction of the laughter, they stopped me. I wasn't crying or anything at this point. Fatso asked me if I realized what I was doing, and I laughed and said, "She's a bad actress." I was referring to F. "She ducked too early," I laughed. I can't remember what they said, or what their reactions were, but I just laughed and said, "Oh, come on. It's all a joke. It isn't real." In the last conversation I had with KS. It ended in the strangest way, even for her. I was really soured on her by the middle of July, and came to the conclusion, rightly or wrongly, I'll never know, that she was the cause of a lot of my problems. She said, before hanging up on me, "You'll see the gun, then you won't and you'll see the blood, and hear the moans." And she imitated moaning, and her voice trailed off.
I must have had my eyes closed, and they were talking to each other about replaying it to see "how far would he take it." So they put me back to the point where I had the fingergun pointed in the direction of the laughter and it came time to shoot. I think I did, or didn't, probably did. I didn't feel anything, or see anything, or hear a gunshot. Regardless, they acted as if I had, and then it was back to fingergun to the head for me.
Another blank spot, and I woke up crying and basically hysterical. I couldn't even see straight. Fatso was screaming at me, "Look what you did." He was on the other side of the counter, pointing at the floor. He said, "You don't see it?" I had my eyes open, looking at the floor, and I could tell it was a not-see, someone who was a negative hallucination. I can see the outline of the object, and when looking at the place where the things actually are, appear to me as if I'm looking at it through water, or a fractured pane of glass; light is reflected and refracted at all angles.
I went to the other side of the counter and looked closer. I still didn't see who it was. It was a big person, I could tell that much. Anyway, Fatso was telling me to look, I was trying to say I didn't see anything, and then another blank spot.
Awake again, and Fatso was walking on the other side of the counter, and said, "It's just ketchup." I think he was shaking a bottle of ketchup, referring to fake blood I didn't see anyway. Or catch-up, stopping me to remember what just happened before going on to the next charade.
Blank again.
I heard them talking to my right, I had my eyes closed, or fake blind, I don't know. I think it was F who said, "He doesn't know," or, "He doesn't know what's going on." I interrupted and said, "Sure he does, it's literal." I referred to myself in the third person. I have done it before, I got it from tv shows. I stole some of my best jokes from the tv. It was me talking about me. "It's literal" refers to hypnotism. The subconscience takes things literally. I read a hypnotism book, after the local paper printed an article about the subject, and tried self-hypnosis. And it works.
Immediately after I said that, someone to my left shined a light, like a flashlight, and said, quickly, "Who are you?" I answered, "MH," and straightened up, which now makes me wonder why I was bent over in the first place. Immediately after that, I said, "You!" The figure behind the light seemed to me to be my sister T. I have never had a good relationship with her. She is terrifying to me and has been since I was about nine years old. And I was out, probably more than just a nervous breakdown.
And here it is, Me is definitely myself, F and T may or may not be who I thought they were, but no matter, because what I thought is what matters. Literally.
F: He doesn't know.
Me: Sure he does. It's literal.
T: Who are you?
Me: *MH* YOU!
I may or may not have said MH, I may have only thought it. There was an exchange after this, I don't remember what was said, but I remarked, "Think, say. What's the difference?" Taken literally, I may be talking out loud and not knowing it. Doubtful.
"Who are you?" "YOU!"
So after this, it became a series of failed attempts to get me to wake up and stay awake without freaking out. I woke up selling a pack of cigarettes, and when I realized what I was doing, I felt like someone else, and was out again. I don't know if someone asks, "Who are you?" or "Who are you now?" that triggers an association with something that I'm doing, or if I'm just associating on my own with things I hear or see. It is weird.
I started imitating my cousin, D, when I was cashiering. Maybe someone asked, "Who is the cashier?" I always gave them a different answer except the correct one, which would be me.
I remember imitating some guy from high school when Fatso, said something to me, It was something about giving someone a wish, and I said something about an explosion. I recall a person behind me, didn't see him, started to scream no,no. And I turned a little,and said, "no, things like that don't happen." And someone said, "yes it will." When I turned to look behind me, sort of saw myself, like someone was holding a mirror or showing me a picture of me imitating that guy. I realize now while writing this, that the "high school guy" I was imitating, for lack of a better word, started the answer with, "W's pissed....." I used my own name while associating, again for lack of a better word, with someone else. Strange.
So they tried to tell me that there were two me's. One was "woo-woo w" and the other one was "watch w". "Woo woo me" was the psycho who, when prompted to give a punishment to F and Fatso, said she should have her head cut off and raped. Or vice versa. They told me there was no hope for "woo woo me." "Watch me" was fixable, they said. Little did I know that it would mean twenty six years of harassment.
Then, before they wrapped it up, they stuck some posts on me, because, as F put it, "He recognized me." For their own fun and to make me look incompetent if I ever said anything about them, I guess. Fatso showed me a badge, asked me if I saw it, I said that I did, he said, "then don't see it", and I didn't.
There was a black cop. Fatso asked me what he is. I said he was a cop.
There was a tall woman with big hair. I said I thought she was a local news anchorwoman. It really looked to be the same woman I saw at AN's house, the one who was supposed to show me her gun to scare me.
Fatso pointed out F, and asked me what she was. I tried to talk, but I couldn't. He kept pushing me to say it, and I said, "schoolteacher". I must have blanked out.
Fatso showed me either a mirror or a picture, and said, "Look at you." But I answered, "J (my dead nephew)" And blanked out.
Looking back on those things now, they could have been trying to get me to verify racial slurs, the word b**ch (instead of schoolteacher), etc. I don't know the technicalities of verifying when someone is under.
I don't know if I was masturbating, or just exposing myself, or washing and shaving my dick, but as I was doing this, Fatso said, "Yeah, that's the ticket." Huh?
F asked me, "How do you remember this?" "I just do," I said. "No, HOW do you want to remember this?" I thought and I think I said something like, "When I smoke cigarettes. They help me remember." Pure nonsense, but it reminded me of how JL, the pot seller, posted, or timed, my joint smoking. She took pantomimed taking three hits, and no more. I got the message about that. Strangly enough, a few months ago I read an article that said cigarette smoking helps improve a person's short term memory.
In the middle of, or after, the "how do you want to remember this" Fatso said, "Thiiiink." He must have been holding up a mirror because I saw my eyes moving back and forth, really hysterically.
That's a really bad imprint for 'think.'
F started to read words that embarassed me. I chose to edit them, i.e. actually not hear them. She wasn't disappointed in that choice.
There was one thing that F, or some other woman, was saying, "No, I won't let him see that" or, "I won't show him that." I wanted to look, and I saw myself in some kind of fun house mirror.
I think they made me play out the childish 'stick a needle in my eye' thing with making promises.
There was a post that felt like a heart attack if I ever said Fatso's name. Not clear on that one, though.
F tried to tell me something by pantomiming the word 'see', and the letter c in sign language. I took it to mean that I should call her the next day. And I did, and I asked her if I really did cut off my dick, and she said, can you feel it, you'd be dead. I mentioned McC's and she said she was never there, when I pushed it, she said, sit on it W.
F said that I have to trust someone. I chose Fatso, but he pointed back to F, and said that I should trust her. In these cases, if you trust someone, you're giving them too much control over your life: trusting someone is a big mistake.
So, I guess I woke up as close to being me as I could come, when I was looking in a hand mirror, and saw myself, and said, "Jesus Christ, I look like uncle Tony."
The last I saw of Fatso there was when he stood in front of me, and pointed to the clock on the wall, with his hand stretched out above his head. He may have been holding the badge that he told me not to see. He said, "now watch" or something along those lines. I looked at the clock and noticed that the second hand jumped. He grinned, and said something like "you don't know what happens" or "you don't know why that happened" or "you don't know why". I just shrugged my shoulders. I'm assuming that some imprint wakes up when I look at a clock, or told to look, or whatever. I haven't figured that one out yet.
They brought S, the cashier back, holding a broom. I gave them the standard, "Going off to lunch, S?" Ha ha ha.
I don't know how I got home, but I remember coming into the house, with some people behind me. They told my mom, "Here's your xxxxx son." I don't know what they said exactly, but she had a horrified reaction. I went to work the next day. I felt like I had a heart attack. It took me eight hours to just sweep the floor. I quit a few weeks later, and the place went out of business two months later, that October.
That next day, I remember going to a doctor with my sister and my mother. I really couldn't recognize anyone, my mother didn't look like she looks, and after a few seconds of looking, her face became recognizable.
After that day, everything became torture.
NEXT: WHERE DID THEY COME FROM AND WHY DO THEY STAY?
No comments:
Post a Comment