Delta40
09-27-2010, 04:26 AM
So, the tale went like this: A woman who cracked, found herself in a psychiatric unit. 'This is insane!' she thought as she discovered how well she actually fit in- but only at first. Later, when she saw her distorted image, she realised she now had two double chins. It had been one hell of a struggle to force her core feelings through and an extra chin was all she had to show for her breakdown. Had anyone noticed? Heard? Before she arrived at the unit, Double Chin was a useless torso dangling on a washing line. the wind wound her powerlessness round and round the wire, till one day, she snapped and blew off into the wind to be reborn in the unit. Who the hell would have known she was in the dumping ground for emotional waste? The odd thing was, even when a therapist told her she must take ownership of her past in order to move on, she still wanted to kill herself. The psych unit was a grace - at least until she vomited everything out and became human once more. Double Chin thought a breakdown was when all that stuff came out but apparently, she was just gearing up for the big spew. Would that happen while she curled up foetal style in the bed with raised bars?
In the distance a voice screamed hysterically, 'The sky is falling in, the sky is falling in!' Double Chin found it hard to breathe surrounded by crazy ****ers all day. They lurked in the corridors, crawling along grimy walls as if their sight had left them, when really it was their sanity. Each morning, she was stalked by a Humpling who snorted and dragged one foot behind when she made her way to the dining room. The nurse would not listen to her fears of the unknown, except that is, to smile benignly, say 'there there' and lead her back to her room, leaving Double Chin to study flecks of apricot wallpaper. Huge chunks had been chipped out as past anguished souls dug their nails into the flaking plaster and bashed their skulls in a fruitless search for peace. When Double Chin rocked back and forth, the wallpaper moved and proved that she could still kill herself.
In the common room, chitchat clouds blurred her identity and Double Chin felt safe in the haze of banality. Even though she secretly wanted to shine, the psych unit was not the place to do it. Everyone operated on such low wattage, the tv always sounded ridiculously loud. Once, she went near the saloon piano and tentatively keyed D A D but the volume of her musical pain nearly put her into spin cycle.
A lost soul twitched her nose at Double Chin and recoiled in horror. 'You've had a bowel motion and you haven't wiped yourself properly. I can tell. Go and clean yourself up.' Some greasy lowlife chuckled and renamed Double Chin 'Two Faeced *****.' The humiliation might have been unbearable if she gave a hoot but the M&M medication fed to her by a hairy nurse each morning, made her nothing more than a dead numbness, so that anything she wished for would remain firmly out of her reach - even death. The Humpling shuffled back up the corridor, dribbling as always and Double Chin smelt and felt the coarse history of its life scrape her body as it passed her on her way back to the sanctuary of her bed.
Studying the wallpaper patterns that abruptly stopped at her bedside drawer, Double Chin thought it was time to cry a river and float back to the surface.
In the distance a voice screamed hysterically, 'The sky is falling in, the sky is falling in!' Double Chin found it hard to breathe surrounded by crazy ****ers all day. They lurked in the corridors, crawling along grimy walls as if their sight had left them, when really it was their sanity. Each morning, she was stalked by a Humpling who snorted and dragged one foot behind when she made her way to the dining room. The nurse would not listen to her fears of the unknown, except that is, to smile benignly, say 'there there' and lead her back to her room, leaving Double Chin to study flecks of apricot wallpaper. Huge chunks had been chipped out as past anguished souls dug their nails into the flaking plaster and bashed their skulls in a fruitless search for peace. When Double Chin rocked back and forth, the wallpaper moved and proved that she could still kill herself.
In the common room, chitchat clouds blurred her identity and Double Chin felt safe in the haze of banality. Even though she secretly wanted to shine, the psych unit was not the place to do it. Everyone operated on such low wattage, the tv always sounded ridiculously loud. Once, she went near the saloon piano and tentatively keyed D A D but the volume of her musical pain nearly put her into spin cycle.
A lost soul twitched her nose at Double Chin and recoiled in horror. 'You've had a bowel motion and you haven't wiped yourself properly. I can tell. Go and clean yourself up.' Some greasy lowlife chuckled and renamed Double Chin 'Two Faeced *****.' The humiliation might have been unbearable if she gave a hoot but the M&M medication fed to her by a hairy nurse each morning, made her nothing more than a dead numbness, so that anything she wished for would remain firmly out of her reach - even death. The Humpling shuffled back up the corridor, dribbling as always and Double Chin smelt and felt the coarse history of its life scrape her body as it passed her on her way back to the sanctuary of her bed.
Studying the wallpaper patterns that abruptly stopped at her bedside drawer, Double Chin thought it was time to cry a river and float back to the surface.