Eighteeenth PSI

[a_gentle_boy]

((I apologize in advance for being a drama whore.  Indulge me.  I am sorry.))

[The inhalation of Luke's hallucinatory gas has left Lucas in a terrible state. This is what he sees. The island of Tanetane . . . The island of nightmares and delusions.  And though he knows that the images he sees must be false, he cannot help but succumb to his dark fears nonetheless.  In fact . . . his mental delusions are so strong that anyone who comes near him may, perhaps, catch a momentary glimpse of his nightmares.  Is this due to the gas lingering around his body or is this because of what is buried deep within his psychic mind?]

[Scenario 1]
Lucas has opened your mailbox and is rifling through the letters.  The expression on his face is one of tormented anguish.  Whispers can be heard if he is approached closely, though they do not appear to be made in his voice.  "The boy named Lucas . . . The boy named Lucas . . . The boy named Lucas . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "    There is a terrifying scream.  It is not his.

[Scenario 2]
Lucas is shivering and shuddering as he takes his bath.  His bath appears to be a dirty puddle of mud in the park.  Or a dirty pool of water on the side of the street.  Or a septic tank.  Or a poison swamp.  A pool of knives.  A pool of nothing.  Nothing after nothing after nothing after nothing.

[Scenario 3]
He's running towards you with a baseball bat.  "Run!"  His voice is harsh as he engages the massive smiling face beaming balefully from midair.  Will you fight with him?  Will you help him?  He needs to get home before supper.  Hinawa is coming home for supper.  When is Hinawa coming home?  Come home, Hinawa.  Come home.

[Scenario 4]
He's running towards you with a baseball bat.  " . . . Get away!"  He swings at you.  He wants to kill you.  Let him kill you.  You should die.

[Scenario 5]
Lucas is huddled, knees to his chest, on the ground in the middle of the street.  All of his things are spread out around him as he holds his hands over his ears and rocks back and forth.  Approaching him, you may see a shadowy image and hear a torrent of harsh, angry, deriding words.  Why are you coming near him?  What are you doing?  What did you do to him?  Huh? . . . . . . . . I did it to him? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . No.  Don't go near him.  Don't go near him.  You did it.  Don't go near her. Don't go near her.   Don't go near her. Don't go near her. Lucas did it.  Lucas did it.  Lucas did it.  Lucas did it.

[Scenario Q]
You could have saved me.
Why didn't you save me?
Switch places with me.
I want
I want to be
I want to be alive, Lucas. 
You're more . . .
You're more . . .
You're more . . . . . . . .   
It's all your fault.  It's your fault.  It's your fault.  I hate you.  You don't deserve it.  No one loves you.  Everyone's waiting for you.  Everyone's waiting to throw rocks at you, spit on you, and make your life hell.  Everyone hates you.  Everyone hates you.  I hate you.
Switch with me
Switch with me
Die
I want to be
you
I will be

you

Comments

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[He drops the bat by himself as his eyes tears up.]

There's nothing . . . There's nothing left for you here. I let you go already, Mom. It's not fair for me to remember you this way.

Just go . . .

[bridgetroll.livejournal.com]

["There's nothing left for you here. Just go." That hurts. It shouldn't- she doesn't know this kid, and he hit her, and that kind of sentiment is nothing new -but it does....not that Parsee lets it show on her face.]

.....I'm not your Mom.

[She turns to leave, crossing her arms, holding herself.]

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

No . . . You're not real. But you've got her face . . .

I want you in my dreams. Not my nightmares.

Because I love you . . .

1/?

[bridgetroll.livejournal.com]

....

2/?

[bridgetroll.livejournal.com]

3/3

[bridgetroll.livejournal.com]

Shut the hell up.

[She keeps walking.]

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

Mom . . . Wait for me, OK?

[bridgetroll.livejournal.com]

[Parsee covers her ears and starts running.]

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[Lucas flops backwards on the ground and stares at the sky. His eyes are wide, but he is, surprisingly, not crying.

. . . He may be run over by a car. Oh, well.]