Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. That is all I hear in this accursed room. This room that the fixers and mechanics put me in. Shh! Do you hear that? They are walking across the hall, looking at us like they are hunters who have caught rare and exotic birds. The head fixer points at me and begins talking to his underlings and then they follow Herr Docktor into his office.
I bet he doesn't remember. To be fair I do not truly remember. I think it happened when I was 30.....No I was about 25......No 56......15? I can't quite remember the date, but I can remember what the good Docktor did to me. I was placed in a rather vile device, an extension of the great machine. I don't want to get into detail what happened, but he did as the Great Machine told him and tried to change me. When he was done I got up and saw the good Docktor for what he was. A puppet for the Great Machine. A fixer for it. "Is everything okay?" he said in an almost morbid tone.
I am not the only one in this crooked house called Bedlam, far from it. And all of them are broken according to the machine. There is little Aurora across the hall from me. She used to a be beautiful angel with a boy who she loved dearly. One day he did something to her, something vile. From that day forward her wings disappeared and she decided to become a mermaid. You can tell because she ties rope around her legs to keep them together. She also has gill like marks all over her body. Lately Aurora has been looking bigger, but also weaker. Every morning she vomits. Today is her sixth month in the crooked house. I tried to make her cake in celebration, but the staff didn't allow me. What a pity.
Then there is Frank. He has a large stomach, so large it looked like he stitched other people's stomachs to make his larger. Despite his large stomach he has a very small mouth. Every night I constantly hear him cry out for food. He always says to the mechanics that he is starving, even after it was dinner or lunch or breakfast or the occasional brunch. Every night he cries out like a wolf. The fixers and mechanics have just learned to ignore him.
Closest to the area where I was changed, there is Joe. He always had a phone near him. Joe always talked into the phone hoping for something on the other side to pick up. Sadly for him whatever was on the other side did pick up. It told him to kill his son. Joe did as the voice told and cut his son up into pieces. Joe still has that phone in his box. Only this time the voice on the other side does the talking, telling Joe to kill and kill and kill. Joe never responds. He only holds the phone to his ear and looks at a picture of his son.
There are other patients too. Michelle and her twin who live in the same box. Jack who served in the war and came back with the war on his shoulders. Mick who washes his hands till they bleed. We all live here in our own boxes, subjected to our own Outbacks. The fixers and mechanics, do as the machine says and try to make us normal. And we all live together in this little crooked house.
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