It’s been some time now since the occurrence of my faux injuries.
The thought of saddling up to the two-wheeled machine unleashes attacks of anxiety and panic on me.
What’s worse is my soul decays as a result of being away from the ride.
I’m stuck between the clash of two of the strongest forces,
Fear and Passion.
Such utter pity. Mother, you bore a hell of a son.
Ignorance would be a blissfulness for it would dissolve the fear I feel.
A lobotomy would fill that void!
“The Irony.” I whisper, “Ha! A sense remains! Humor!”
A tear slides down my face as I am consumed by the room’s silence
OH! what a tragedy! This life of paralyzing indecision. I am cast as a tragic comfort to the tale of happiness because happy endings don’t exist without some suffering, and SOMEONE has to suffer!
Just not the heroin or the princess…
For that would create havoc among the desired peace.
Another moment of long silence.
I feel a personality rising to face. A knock at the door of my mind. I hear it as if it was a door that existed in the physical dimension.
“No! Please! I’m not ready to go back! I don’t want to sit in that prison again! Please!”
Amidst my yells,
My face becomes blank.
My eyes go cold.
Slowly, a smile creeps from the depths of my insanity and my eyes rejuvenate with a slightly different tone.
“Well now, that wasn’t so bad. You’ve had your share and I have an itch that needs satisfying.” I said to myself and giggled lowly.
“Oh, mother, you were such a fair woman. How unfortunate for you to end up with me, a hell of a son.”
I can’t help but hysterically laugh at the eery life I live!
I dance to the pleasure of my insanity and the power it holds!
I crashed that motorcycle and my INSIGNIFICANT other took rein of this mind and body and made cowardice of it!
No more! I’m the true captain, and he is a worthless pirate ignorant of passion and art!
“I’ll make you proud mother, I’ll show you that we are worth more than a bedridden bother! I’ll take reins of that engine once more and I’ll ride through town and force the eyes of beholders to witness my fearlessness!”
I limp towards the door, again, with my faux injuries, and pushing the door open, but with no avail. It is locked from the other side.
“Mother? Please open the door.” I began to quiver in my voice as I plead, “Mother?! Please!”
I heard a woman in heels approach the door from the other side and she slides open the little window that was installed into the door.
“Hello Arthur, how are you to-”
“Don’t call me by that worthless name, Bitch!” I interrupted her with a roar that I quickly regretted,” Wait! wait! I’m sorry I didn’t mean that. I. I haven’t had much sleep or sun lately and I’m extremely irritable right now, I apologize.”
She halfheartedly smiles to me,” How are you today, Symphony?”
“Oh…” I close my eyes and bite my lip,” The way you say my name can pacify any demon that walks among you and I, love. To answer your question, I am feeling very depressed and would love to feel the light of day on my skin, if that’s not too much to ask.”
“Why that is never a request too large to be fulfilled, but if you lose control of your attitude one more time you will leave me no choice but to immediately bring you back to your room.” She responds with complete empathy.
I rejoice with happiness through tears that build up in my eyes,” Thank you, love! In all my life, you are the only one that has ever shown such grace to me. If situations were different, I would dedicate my life to create a world worthy of your love, Lucy.”
She takes the bait and smiles with enthusiasm,” It’s my pleasure Symphony, I know you don’t deserve to be here, you seem perfectly healthy, ignoring the lack of nutrition that is.”
She closes the window and opens the door and escorts me to the asylum’s garden.
Opportunity, such an addicting drug. One glance and man would leave their whole life behind to grasp it and never let go, no matter the consequences.
As we walk through the garden, I see the motorcycle they have displayed for aesthetics. All the other patients are convinced it’s a dud, but my suspicions were cleared once I snagged the keys from one of the maintenance employees.
I couldn’t resist a smile to my following thought,
-Arthur, prepare yourself for a wild ride, you are at your best when you are the passenger to my piloting.-
“What’s with the big smile, Symphony?” Lucy asked with joy.
I gently grab her hand and stroke her fingers with intense care, “I just keep wondering whether silk holds emotions, and if they did, they would be jealous of your skin. I would be too if I held pride in my texture and had to live among your shadow.”
She blushes, ” You’re always out to make me feel special for whatever reason.”
” And here I thought my intentions were obvious.” I looked into her eyes as I said this with a smile. I saw her innocence and her hopes in my recovery through her eyes. An angel is what she is, and a devil I am. My only intentions are to ride that motorcycle out of here by any means necessary.
“Forgive me, Lucy.” I bend down to kiss her and she ceased her resistance after a brief attempt. After releasing my lips from hers, I push her down and I sprint towards the motorcycle while pulling the keys to it out of my pocket.
I hear her screaming out to me but I can’t make out the words. I keep focus on my opportunity and I refuse to let go of it. I reach the motorcycle and I turn the ignition.
The engine comes to life and I yell with excitement! I switch it into gear and try the gas, and that’s when it happened, my realization.
I’m never getting out of here.
I tried the gas making the engine roar, but the tires weren’t connected to the bike. It was an engine and frame sitting on a statue of tires. Worthless.
Tears uncontrollably run down my face like a river flowing within a storm. I sat there on top of the frame with my arms hanging down my sides in surrender as the guards ran after me.
They dragged me back to my padded room as I refused to use my legs and acknowledge anyone that came to lecture me.
I was kneeling on both knees at the center of my room and heard the little window on the door slide open. It was Lucy.
“Hey Symphony, can I get you anything?” She asked with sadness in her voice.
“Yes.” I allow a moment of silence before my request,” Arthur and I were wondering if you could bring us some rope. We have a longing urge to play tug of war with the ceiling.”
Lucy doesn’t respond, instead, she slowly closes the little window and I listened to her heels distancing away from the door to my room.
I begin to sing softly. Music calms the thoughts in my head.