And we're on our own [Python]

[kousei ♚]

S H A D O W

(We're everyday robots in control
Or in the process of being sold
Driving in adjacent cars
'Til you press restart)

Today is a sharp contrast from that day. The world is an oven, slowly cooking my flesh in my clothes and all I can do is sit here and let it happen. The sun gives me it's baking glare as I sit on the park bench doing absolutely nothing but search. There's no respite from this heat, not even a soft cooling breeze to give me a break from the pounding heat. It was cold that day, the exact opposite of today. The trees are still as statues but I know that they're full of life, the grass is lush green - another thing that's full of life but surprisingly still. And that day the trees were thin and their leaves had long fallen and been swept away by the wind, the grass looked as dead as a doornail.

It's felt like years but in reality it's been months since I found her wandering alone in the park, looking for her nurse.

And I still remember is clear as day, every detail, the weather, where it was, what I was doing, wearing thinking, every last detail stored up and remembered. It's unusual, strange, unprecedented that I can visualise the moment this vividly. I've never been able to picture, pick apart and remember a moment so clearly ever bar one kind of moment, the moment I ruin lives, break them, leave them with nothing but shards of themselves. Those are the moments worth remembering, those are the memorable moments. And I've never considered myself to be great and remembering arbitrary events such as meeting someone.

So why is this so clear to me?

I'm resting my chin on my fist, wondering how and why the day is so clear to me. I've planted myself on the park bench, yes it's the same park where I met Cora Scarrow. Truth be told, I've visited this park everyday was it to see if she returned or was it for some other reason? Honestly, I don't know the answer to that question myself but I constantly found the park drawing me towards it, enticing me to stop whatever I had planned and make my way to it, to the very spot where I spotted her when I was searching for new puppets. This bench means nothing, so why am I constantly drawn to it?

I'm being ridiculous, I've always been curious over everything: curious to see where my limits are, who I can break, how I can break them, what I can make them do for me, what I can make my sister do for me, the list goes on and on. But this curiosity is irrational, bordering stupid. A mental patient who obviously has something wrong with her that she needs a nurse every time she goes outside is not worthy of my curiosity, I shouldn't even have to bother looking for her. What if she's much too easy to break? Wouldn't that be boring?

But what if she isn't?

What if this is an untapped challenge, what if whoever made me also made her just to see what I was capable of, what if she's my calling, to test my limits, to finally break what I thought was 'too far' and go even further beyond. What if I was meant to find her and I've been wasting my time all these months waiting for her to come for me? A snake doesn't wait for it's food to come for him, it goes out and searches for it. And if it runs away? It pursues it, it doesn't laze around. Oh Shadow you fool, that's what you say about every victim you find and they all turn out to be the same, easily broken.

But I swear this one is different. I know this one is different. I've never remembered a non-breaking point moment this vivid, this clear as if it was ingrained in my brain. I have to pursue and I know I'll curse myself if I let this chance slip from my sweaty fingers because I sat here and waited for a moment that would never come.

So with a renewed purpose I sling myself up from the bench and begin my journey.

She told me she was in a mental institution, but there are lots of them around the District.

Which one did she tell me? It definitely was not far away, why would she travel halfway across the District just to visit one park? No, she told me one and I know it's nearby.

I start with the closest one.

It's a fifteen minute walk because I'm taking my time, taking step by step as it comes along and remembering each of my steps, my techniques. I need to get inside the mind, no matter how strong someone's defences are there is always a blind spot, a weak point in there and I always find it, no mind is inaccessible to me. Call it one of my many talents. And there was a sense of trust when I met her in the park and I led her to her nurse, after all she had trusted me to lead her to the right way and I had even managed to get a decent, civilised conversation in. Hopefully she still remembered him; if not then I've lost my chance forever, and I'll have to find someone new - I'll have to find someone second best. And I hate second best.

I make it to the institute eventually, finding the cage holding my next challenge, my next piece of fun. I put on my confident smile and stride in the doors.

Already the place has a bunch of nurses and doctors wading around and going about their business.

I find an old, worn out desk with a nurse sitting behind it; already I can feel the disorganisation. "Excuse me, am I allowed to visit a patient?" I ask, trying to sound as genuine and patient as possible. If there's one thing I'm great at it's masking my intentions.

The nurse looks at me up and down before answering. "Well, lucky for you it's visiting day; who would you like to visit young man?" She asks.

"Cora Scarrow."

Narrative
"Speech"
Thoughts

[Python]

C o r a

Today was visiting day. At the peak of dawn, residents were already rustling about their quarters, squeezing into their finest clothes. Wardrobes were limited due to the controlled influx of holiday gifts from family (assuming they had one, and cared enough to actually send something) and rare opportunities to shop around the District. The rest of their casual clothes were donated. Most of what hung in Cora’s closet were sweatpants, ripped jeans, and T-shirts that swallowed her whole. She saved her one white blouse and floral skirt for visiting days, because all residents were encouraged to look nice for the visitors and promote a positive vibe on behalf of the institution.

She often forgot the bigger picture. It felt like she was dressing herself up for nobody. The familiar faces she glimpsed down the corridors were family members she recognized from weekly visits. She couldn’t assign names to faces, but she could assign faces to a particular resident. None were assigned to Cora Scarrow. Her family had abandoned her, and the last traces of her past life were not welcome. Days like this were empty for her, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She could fill the void by watching the other residents smile and laugh, or at least acknowledge that they had family members who still gave a damn.

Filtered beams of sunlight highlighted the specks of dust hovering above her dresser. She was always persistent about requesting a nurse to clean, and they were always persistent on ignoring her. Her actions were belittled as the musings of an unstable psychiatric patient. They changed her bedsheets once a week and that was all. Clothes could be washed as often as she liked. Simplicities were their strongpoints until Cora preached about how the dust in her room tickled her nose like pollen did in the spring. The one day the doctor peered inside her nose with a light, she was deemed healthy and written off as an oversensitive liar. Today, she sniffled and tried to ignore the dust in favor of her skirt.

The institution’s undergarments were white, heavy, conservative, and the itchiest when not washed for long periods of time. She didn’t mind the design or its drawbacks; discomforts faded with time. It was the draft brushing against her legs that bothered her more. She had grown wearisome of skirts and exposed legs long ago. It felt like eyes were glued to her skin, even when she knew she was being ignored. Still, it was a weekly routine, and if they let her go outside the sun would feel warm against her skin. That would be worth the trouble.

She brushed her hair without a mirror, careful to straighten every tangle she could find. Mirrors were banned in her bedroom for good reason. Near the fountain, the nurses always advised her not to look at the water up close. She didn’t need the reminders, but appreciated the effort, although it was more for their sake than hers.

An unanticipated knock on her door made her flinch. It wasn’t yet time for her to leave. She wouldn’t have permission until thirty minutes from now. ”You have a visitor,” Leann said, propping the door open. Leann was the nurse assigned to this hallway. Her voice was like flower petals and spring water. Cora couldn’t imagine how Leann had managed to mix her room up with somebody else’s. She had been an employee for years.

”Who is it?” she asked, stricken with disbelief.

”He didn’t give his name.”

Her heart lurched. There was no breakfast to lose, but the sensation knotted in her gut nonetheless. Fear was cold, brutal, and sickening. ”Is he a peacekeeper?”

Leann shook her head, ”Just a boy.” And all at once the fear emptied itself, and she felt feather-light again.

”Okay, I’ll be there soon.”

She brushed her hair until the ends looked straight. They were also damaged, she would have to plead for a hair trim within the week. She wondered if anyone would notice. After a minute, she decided to pull it back into a ponytail, and walked out to the visitor’s area. Round tables and chairs decorated the otherwise bland white tiles, where families gathered with their respected residents to chat. Cora wasn’t sure who she was looking for until a lone table caught her eye.

”Shadow?”

Her mind blanked. She knew who he was, she could recall the memory, but she couldn’t fathom why. Why was he here?

Why was it worth coming?

[kousei ♚]

S H A D O W

(We're everyday robots in control
Or in the process of being sold
Driving in adjacent cars
'Til you press restart)

I am guided to the meeting room and and then told to wait as they get my patient for me. I wait, and wait, and wait. Time is a cruel thing, it begins to slowly drag by like a heavy boulder, almost completely still despite how you desperately want it to move. I'm going to go crazy in a minute!. But it's strange, I begin to see many patients come and go as the time drags by but none of them seem particularly crazy. They're all wearing masks of sanity. I conclude silently to myself, I'm familiar with it, outward appearances mean nothing I've learned in my short time of living. I begin to tap my foot impatiently, wondering when the hell they're going to bring her to me.

I hate being kept waiting and I hate waiting for anything. I'm going to be honest, unless it has something to do with worming my way into another person's mind I hate it when people keep me waiting. Things need to be done efficiently. If things are being done slowly that means more time is being spent on it and that means the next thing that needs to be done cannot be done. This then means that everything is halted just because some idiot can't do their job quickly enough. It's the exact opposite of efficient and if things aren't efficient then they're messy and if something isn't done cleanly why bother doing it in the first place?

Oh and it's the fact that I really hate being forced to sit in one place for a long period of time (like now). I need to be out and doing something, or I need to be looking for something, or have something (or someone) important on my mind. That's why I could tolerate sitting on the park benches for months waiting and looking to see if I would by lucky enough to find Cora standing before me. But I could never be so fortunate and I hated the sense of failure, too many times I'd almost given up before convincing myself not to let an obstacle stop me. It's almost as if the world is trying to protect her from me by putting every thing I hate doing and feeling as an obstacle. But unfortunately for the stupid world I'm a determined boy.

I take a quick glance at the clock and am completely shocked to see that only ten minutes has passed since they sat me down here. What kind of mockery is this? I think to myself angrily while my jaw drops from the shock. It's felt like hours and yet it's only been a measly six hundred seconds. For fuck's sake Shadow, just think of something else. But I can't stop thinking about what I need to do, and with that comes anticipation and with anticipation comes restlessness. Fuck, fuck fuck!

My back is arched as I rock back and forth on my chair. Fuck, fuck, fuck, too long, too long, I hate this. I clench my jaw and stop myself from rocking, not only is it weird it makes me look like I actually belong in this place. I can't help but chuckle dryly to myself at this thought. What are they gonna do? Grab me and drug me because I'm sitting weirdly? Hah! Now I'm being stupid, illogical again.

I'm not anxious or nervous, I don't feel pressure. I'm just really fucking impatient. It's not long before the grey, dull boredom begins to creep up on me.

"Shadow?"

The voice snaps me out of my thoughts and throws me back into the real world.

You.

My head slowly turns towards Cora Scarrow and I instinctively slowly stand up. She's just how I remembered her, skinny, dark brown hair, dark eyes. And she still remembers my name, I'm still fresh in her memory it would seem. That's good, now I'm definitely not in the creepy stranger category. If she does that categorising kind of thing that I do that is.

A casual grin presents itself across me face as I speak. "Surpsise," I say, still standing but not moving from my spot one inch. You're going to have to come to me. I allow my first word to hang in the air, letting it process in Cora's mind before I continue to speak, still not moving an inch and waiting for Cora to come to me. I will dictate this, I will lead this and keep my eye on the prize and for all that to begin she's going to have to walk over here.

"Happy to see me?" I ask playfully.

Narrative
"Speech"
Thoughts

[Python]

C o r a

It was odd.

Her very first visitor was a stranger she had encountered in the park; a simple boy whom she happened to approach because her nurse had gone missing. One question, one quest, one name, and one conversation. That was all. Months later, he was a resurfaced memory actualized into a mystery, and she could only offer him a baffled stare. “Surprise” was an understatement. She was stunned to see any familiar faces in such a bleak place. Its reputation was usually enough to keep the neurotypicals out of grey territory, where their judgmental minds didn’t belong. She could see no reason why this place, let alone herself, was worth seeking out, nor why he had done it.

But she couldn’t lie to herself or to him; she was pleased to see him, no matter how bizarre it was. ”Yeah, hi,” she murmured, waving to confirm his implication. She didn’t know whether to sit down, hug him, or shake his hand. It felt like a formal meeting, not an old acquaintance visiting on a whim. The senselessness of it made her hesitant to approach, but she shuffled to him nonetheless, offering a timid smile. After years of limited contact with outside relationships – ones she had wanted to evade at all costs – it was comforting to have created something new, even if it was by accident. Perhaps it was something she could trust, and something that would sap the bleakness out of her life. These white walls had driven her to a timeless state of loneliness years ago.

”How did you know where I lived?” She didn’t recall telling him which facility she was from, unless she had somehow forgotten. The nurses always criticized her, questioned her, remaining suspicious of every syllable she uttered until she was left distrusting herself. She was certain it was a type of brainwashing to earn everyone’s compliance, but that raised another question: was she paranoid, or were they fabricating paranoid inside of her on purpose? They wanted her to become a mental illness, to confirm their stereotypes about every patient admitted here. Yes, there was indeed an abnormality in her perception of a very specific thing, but it was narrow. With everything else she was normal, but they pinned “trauma” and “illness” against her and used them as restraints.

She was as sane as the next person, but they wouldn’t believe her, and they wouldn’t let her believe it either.

Maybe Shadow would believe it too.

[kousei ♚]

S H A D O W

(We're everyday robots in control
Or in the process of being sold
Driving in adjacent cars
'Til you press restart)

Tick-

Tock.

Tick-

Tock.

Time is ticking, slowly but oh so very surely. I have a job, a task, a need I absolutely have to fulfil as time slowly ticks. My attention is on Cora and yet the corner of my eye is glued to the clock on the wall. Slowly but surely time is running out. I can't remember when the woman said visiting hours would end as they were escorting it, and even if she didn't mention I should have asked. Stupid Shadow. I mentally chastise myself, I've been out of the game too long. My mask is cracking, before long people will see the lines and then they walk. Then I've got nothing, no more puppets. Have to be more clinical, more precise - or I'm nothing.

Tick ... Tock.

Can't be making silly slip-ups or silly mock-ups. This is real. I haven't even been thinking things through, as always, just gotta do it. Still, I feel as if I could've done this better, maybe I could have. Nothing I can do to change that, all I can do is focus on the task, and the time.

Tick...Tock.

I let her have the first move.

”How did you know where I lived?” She asks me. Several mental answers form up in my mind, I barely even think about it. We're just here, in the moment with nothing but a table separating us. Truth be told, I'm just happy she's happy to see me - that would be a major embarrassment. I travel all the way here just for her to groan at the sight of me. Yea, that's a pretty improbable fault seeing as I stopped her from getting in trouble with her nurse (at least I think I did) so she basically owes me and stuff but not impossible. Crazy people are unpredictable I suppose.

My move.

”I didn't. I just wanted to see you and went to the first mental hospital I could find so here I am.” I explain, and for once it's the actual whole truth which is surprising. Most of what I say is usually a lie, a very convincing lie but a lie nonetheless. This time though the truth actually sounds appealing, somewhat flattering I think. Considering I 'just wanted to see her' so went to any random crazy house just to find her. Surely that means something, that's something friends could do I guess.

Tick...Tock

The pendulum swings but my move is far from over. I plaster a very convincing (yet fake) smile on my face. The same typical charming smile I always put on. The nice guys mask. That's what I like to call it and it sees the most sun. Always being nice, always smiling and seeing everything they want to hear. Smooth, confident, witty, nice. Everyone loves the nice guy mask. I don't know about someone who lives in a crazy house but everything I know loves the nice guy mask. Why they love the nice guy mask I don't know - but hey whatever works works.

Tick...

Tock.

My move is far from done.

"I guess you could call it fate I got you first try." I say, with a very light and laid back tone. I want her to feel respected, I want her to feel comfortable around me.

As you slowly get strung up.

"How've you been?" I ask.

Time's ticking for you Scarrow.

Tick...

Tock.

My move's done.

Narrative
"Speech"
Thoughts