Ch5 Day10
I'm doing that all bark but no bite routine, and I knew it with my resentful heart and my devious mind. My plans were chronologically set, but that doesn't mean I have every date and time to match. Kevin would continuously perplex me in every way. He'd flex his muscles with his bare chest and wink at me sinfully, and then he'd bunch the wall letting huge pangs resonate through the tin box. It's like he was trying to use himself as an illusion, to let my brain act as if it were a spring. It's like he pushes it all the way down, and then in springs back up again. That's how my mind was working at this point, and I didn't like it.
On Day 9, I woke up and there was a wall set between him and I, as I also noticed that my space was getting larger and larger. It was also as if little specs of grass were starting to grow through creases in the split floor, but it wasn't enough. I wanted out completely, and when I started 'barking' the other day at Kevin (before we got the wall) I was doing push-ups at the same time trying to let my anger out on him the whole time. I noticed that SixHundred gave Kevin a bottle of whisky, which burned my mind with curiosity.
I won't lie; SixHundred had his way of stimulating me with his wicked, white smile and morbid pale green eyes, but he knew that it impressed me which made his world all the more wild.
He'd sometimes come and talk to me about the Leader, but not give out details that would help me press the wrong buttons and knock our leader's mind. It was a real conspiracy, really. Because it seemed as though SixHundred didn't like him that much either.
"Why is your name SixHundred?" I asked.
At this time, his shoulder was pressed up against mine, and he rested his head on his resting arms on top of his bended knees.
"I don't know. Ask Leader."
But I knew I couldn't, because I'm too much of a mental wimp to even respond to Leader sometimes. Perhaps it's something in me that stops me from replying to his ruthless voice. I wonder what SixHundred had to go through, as if I was supposed to care in my situation.
I know I didn't, but then I did. It was a huge toss-up that found a place on my brain and melded itself into it. It's killing me how I've been here for 240hours and 43minutes. It irritates me how I know so much more then I did now, then I did then 0 when I was a sophomore in high school and didn't care about anything except who could buy the most expensive wine, or who could buy coke without getting caught. I didn't do those things, but others did. Like Cecilia Crenshaw who lived across the street from my family in that tacky house and filthy lawn. Material objects didn't matter to me, as I stated before, but when you show affirmation of your class status, and you could visually see dirt under your fingernails you know there's got to be something wrong. Her house was like a jacked-up death wish in every way as possible, and to think her brother Mikey didn't have to do anything was completely absurd.
The voice inside my brain started talking to me again on the morning of Day10, and right there and then I knew something was wrong with my brain.
The voice known as 'Call' proceeded to whisper things in on ear and out the other, literally. I started screaming once, and Kevin was there to calm me down and rest getting the voice out.
It would repeat things numbers backwards, like today I was only whispered one number which set my mind to a blank. Call said, "2" and my mind had gone completely vivid of everything else except that. One lamp, one floor, one ceiling, one person....one chance.
It sounded utterly deranged in a sense I couldn't explain, but it was right. You can't change the spots on a leopard, I'd known that from my audacity slipping back into my deoxyribonucleic acid, and my boldness and profanity had slowly became a part of me again. A part of Lacey, and a part of my mind.
I'd started to work out frequently, practicing more and more sit-ups each day, and sometimes even managed to talk to SixHundred that day.
But today was different.
"SixHundred, where do you keep coming from when you come and visit?" I asked, studying the tips of my dead ends. Gosh, they can't give me a pair of scissors.
"I come from where all the other numbers come from," he said. "It's all in your head, Lacey. You can't think too hard, because if you did then your chances are anorexic. You need to find a way out of this junk yourself, no matter how much I want to get you out."
I turned my head to stare at him in bewilderment, because my mind had arduous knots and I had no clue what to think anymore. What was he trying to tell me?
"Do you know what I believe," I started, clasping my hand on my temples, massaging them lightly.
"What?"
"I think I'm a resident alien."
SixHundred fidgeted a little, and picked on his skin.
"You are one," he spoke.
"I am?"
"Yes, because let me tell you...You're defiantly not near your home anymore."
I scoffed, letting out a slight snort.
"Well, I sort of figured that out along time ago."
"No," he said, his eyes turning black and lethal. "You don't conceive what I'm saying. I'm telling you something crucial." His hands were wrapped around my shoulders as they shook me crazily. "You're not near humans anymore."
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