ENTRY 9: STIR-CRAZY

It’s 9pm. I’m at a loss for words right now. So much to say, but I’m having a tough time typing it out. I wasn’t even going to write on this stupid laptop but there’s some shit that definitely needs to be reported right now, Dr. Nelson, and this is for your eyes only.

To start, it’s only been a day since the incident with Michael. I’m still bothered by it and of course no one will tell us his status. Like, is he okay? Is he at the hospital? I’m so fucking sick of the secrets in here.

Lynette is back with us. She’s strangely calm, but a little out of it. Her hair is sort of frazzled and her eyes have that glazed look like she got a super dose of Xanax or something. She didn’t get back until after our white-room session this morning. I asked her how she was doing and she told me, and I quote, “If I ever pull some snapped-ass shit like that again you better calm my ass down before they get me with that needle.” She doesn’t remember anything except waking up restrained in a small room with dried up drool all over her chin.

I told her I would try my best.

As for Jimmy and Tony, I guess since they know how to find me and probably what I’m doing, they’ll be waiting for me when I get out. I can pay their asses off and that should settle it. Of course with the weekly vig it’s gonna be more like 7 grand I have to pay them, which’ll leave me 2 grand to try and get my life together. It’s better than nothing.

Pretty much everyone here is irritated. No one is in a good mood. Dr. Waters is sort of the opposite. As big an asshole as he is, he seems less angry and more defeated by the whole project. He doesn’t seem to give a shit in the testing room or in the evenings when he’s hovering around checking on us. Maybe he’s worried the trial’s going to end and he’ll have to find something else to do with his time. Earlier this evening he got a phone call, looked alarmed by whatever it was, and quickly left the common room. I wonder what that was about.

I also thought it might be interesting to get on his good side and try to borrow that phone for a few calls. I might start working on that tomorrow, but don’t you tell him, Dr. Nelson. I doubt you’re reading all these entries from everyone anyway. There’s way too many of us and Amanda probably writes a fucking novel after each day. If you did read that, I’m just kidding, I’m not going to do anything that violates the rules. I promise.

Anyway, I think we’d all feel better if we could get the fuck outside for a little while. Even prisoners get yard time, but we’re on our 6th day here and haven’t seen the sky once. The common room smells like shit. Every time I walk in there it reminds me of visiting my mom. She smokes, drinks, and has a cat named Rambo that she never cleans the litter box for. It’s toxic as hell in there, and this place is starting to get that same grimy stink.

Rudy is making everything worse. The fat bastard hasn’t showered in days I don’t think. He’s become more socially reclusive and just sits in that olive green chair we all started calling the “fart catcher,” letting them rip every fifteen minutes like it’s his full-time job. The smell is rotten, like something died and fermented inside him. Out of all the fucking possible people they could have chosen for this trial, why did we have to get a guy like him?

Onto more serious stuff that I actually need you to read, Dr. Nelson. I was sitting on the couch earlier staring at the bookshelves when Jeff dropped down next to me. He’s been getting quieter lately too, but today he leaned in and whispered, “You think there’s some shady shit going on here? Like they’re not telling us everything?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know anymore. After what happened with Michael and Stephanie… I’m starting to think this drug is fucking dangerous.” I looked into his eyes and noticed they were clearer than the first few days. “You felt anything from the doses?”

Jeff stared down at the floor and started picking at a loose thread on his scrubs. “I get these crazy dreams sometimes. Really vivid and detailed, like it’s actually happening. I never know it’s a dream… I’m just going along with it.”

“What kind of dreams?” I asked.

“Well, it’s hard to say,” he said, his eyes going wide like he was seeing it again. “I’m sort of… looking at everything… I can see different faces, people I’ve never seen before and they’re framed like pictures. But they’re all moving or talking or something. Then suddenly there’s thousands, millions of them all making noises. It’s like they’re all one big moving quilt. I hear all these weird frequency sounds, like in a techno song and I feel like… I’m one of them but I’m separated.” He shook his head and stared straight at me, brows furrowed. “I don’t know, man. I keep seeing it and I don’t know what it means.”

Before I could answer, Ben walked by, stuck his tongue out at us, and giggled like a little schoolgirl. His eyes were wild and crackhead-like, and he kept rubbing his hands together like he’s trying to wash something off them that won’t go away.

Jeff and I just looked at each other and raised our eyebrows.

“There’s something happening here, guy,” I said. “That’s some weird dreams, but they probably don’t mean anything.”

Jeff nodded and took off to the bathroom.

I saw Walter in the corner muttering to himself, flipping through a Bible. He looked up at me for a second with those magnified eyes and said, “Jake… short for Jacob.”

“Yeah, I guess. No one’s ever called me Jacob,” I said.

“Read your bible, boy. Jacob was the deceiver. The schemer. The man who spent his whole life running, lying, gambling with everything he had and always trying to trick God and man to get what he wanted.”

He tapped the table once, hard.

“You’re doing that same running. Same tricks. Same selfish and wicked ways. But one night Jacob got cornered in the dark and had to wrestle something he couldn’t escape. Am I making sense to you, boy?”

The old timer asked me with wide eyes and promptly returned to reading before I could answer.

I couldn’t even think of anything to say. I have no idea what he’s talking about, or who Jacob in the bible is, but I can’t argue with what he said about me. I’m starting to understand that I’ve been living in a hell of my own making. The absence of smoking, gambling, the occasional beer has cleared up my thoughts a little bit.

Amanda saw the whole thing and sat down across from me later. She’s been trying to play mother to everyone since Michael’s chaotic removal. “Don’t worry about that old goof, Jake. How you holding up?” she asked quietly.

I told her the truth. “I’m tired. Depressed. I keep thinking about Michael, Stephanie, and now I’m worried about Randy. He’s been acting fucking strange. I also need to keep my eye on that Dr. Roberts since I saw him doing some shady shit outside Emily’s room last night.”

Amanda’s face crinkled and she looked around the room, probably scanning for Emily or Dr. Roberts. “What happened?”

And this is the part I really need you to read, Dr. Nelson. You need to get a leash on that creep because if I saw what I think I saw, then he should be fired.

“After the whole Michael thing yesterday, Emily was pretty messed up by it. She went into her room after dinner, but before she did she told me that Dr. Roberts was gawking at her the whole time she ate. And when she took a shower later, she was alone but swears she could feel someone watching her,” I told her.

“Oh that guy is a total creep. Is that it, or did anything happen?” Amanda asked with both hands on her cheeks.

“Well, last night I heard footsteps in the hallway and when I peered out my door I saw him outside of Emily’s room, just staring. I opened the door like I was making my way to the bathroom and he looked at me with his eyes all bulged like I surprised him and flitted away without saying a word.”

“No shit!” Amanda exclaimed a little too loudly as I noticed the others all stare over.

“No shit, and I’m telling you Mandy, I swear I saw something in his hand. It could have been a syringe or something. I got so pissed I almost chased him down. I’m going to report it to Dr. Nelson tonight in my journal.” I quietly replied.

“Thank God you were there to stop him from doing whatever he was doing. We have to watch each other’s backs in here, Jake,” she said and took my hand and squeezed it before leaving.

I smiled and nodded.

Basically, it was a tough day. I finally decided to grab the big ass dictionary off the bookshelf. I’ve never been a big reader, but I like to know the meaning of words and where they came from. I’ve now got this Oxford dictionary that tells you the derivation and the definition of all the words. I’ve been thumbing through it trying to learn new words the past few hours.

One word jumped out at me.

Aletheia.

According to the book, it’s ancient Greek. Means “truth.” But not truth like “I didn’t steal the money.” It literally breaks down to a- meaning “not” and lethe meaning “forgetfulness” or “concealment.” So aletheia is “un-forgetting.” The act of revealing what’s been hidden. Uncovering what was covered up.

I stared at that page for a long time.

Un-forgetting.

That’s a hell of a word. I thought when something was forgotten, it was gone. Like the hard drive in our brains just deleted shit, but they made a word that means to unforget… kinda cool.

Despite all the crazy shit going on in here lately, I think it’s worth repeating that I can feel my head getting clearer every day. I notice little things I didn’t before. I feel like I can form thoughts faster and easier than just a week ago. Truth is, I’ve been in a haze for a long time. It must be from not smoking or that constant survival mode I was in all the time. In here I have time to think and now time to read. There’s a lot of books on the shelf, some of them are textbooks for the sciences like electricity, electronics, physics and other things. With all this time I might start teaching myself things so I can leave here with an education at the very least.

As for the state of affairs lately… as I said, I think we all need to get outside. I mean it Dr. Nelson, please arrange for us to see the sky. I miss it and we could all use it at least to get away from the smell and to break up the monotony.

Tomorrow I need to talk to Randy and find out what’s wrong with him. Ever since Michael, I’m afraid.

But the thing that’s really messing with me tonight is this quiet voice in the back of my skull that won’t shut up. It keeps saying the same thing over and over… this is only the beginning. Something’s coming. I keep thinking about what Walter said about Jacob wrestling with something in the dark, and it’s starting to feel like that’s exactly where I’m headed. I don’t know if I’m ready for whatever’s waiting on the other side of it.

Dr. Nelson, please do something about Dr. Psycho.

​Thank you.

—Jake

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