Chapter 19

I leaned my head back and sighed in antagonistic arrogance. The sound of my piss overcame my repetitive smug voice. I had stomped up the pills in the far corner of the room. I spent an hour, give or take, being proud of myself. They didn’t give me--I didn’t give me even an empty bottle so I walked back over and I fouled the orange gel and amber powder. I pulled my shirt over my face when the bubbling became energetic. The other side of the room was the television. I retreated as quickly as I could.

“Hello Brian.” The video looped back for a fourth playthrough. “Take your medicine. You will not deny my children their father.”

“Fuck you, you’re just half the man I am. Why would I listen to a cripple?”

“As you awake, Mel is due. Because of you, another of my children is being failed by you. Take the medicine and stop denying your children these important moments. Another moment to be the best father I can be.”

“It’s on you, you insufferable prick.”

“From this point forward, you won’t know their names. You won’t poison their thoughts. You won’t exist in their eyes. In six years, you’ll have ended and our family will be whole.” I hated his voice. I had a deeper voice, with more gravitas, didn’t I? I wasn’t taken aback by the sound of my smugness. “Take your pills when you’re told and it should pass you by in less than one week of consciousness. Do what is right by your family.”

“Oh, I have a week to live? Let’s spend it in an empty void of a room listening to myself.”

“Every time you wake up, you will wake up in these walls. You’ll tantrum around but the hunger and the loneliness can only end with the drugs.”

“Yeah? And then you’re stuck in here? I fucking think not. How do you get back out?” I had to think like me. If you set out to do something that you’ve done without knowing you were doing it for years, how do you even start? I zoned my supervillain monologue out. It was easy to ignore me. Larry couldn’t manage that for years and here I was doing it over an hour. A half an hour? Two hours?

The remote only turned off or turned on and restarted the video. The controls on the television were inside the wall. The furniture was bolted to the floor.

“Hmmm,’ I considered.

“I can’t abandon the work I’ve done. The family I’ve built. I deserve it, you don’t. You’d have nothing if it didn’t come from me.”

“Poor me,” I mocked myself with fake crying noises. “Of course it’s not all about me. Shani had to suck this asshole’s dick. Surely, getting the box is better than what those girls have gone through.”

I threw the remote at my face. There was a small crack in the screen but the cheap plastic clicker rebounded back with its batteries and battery cover shooting off in other directions. The one small piece that broke off hit me in the chest.

“TannerPharm wasn’t even a dream of yours. You wanted nothing more than a comfortable home and wife who wouldn’t divorce you for half of a used sedan. Do not believe you will be granted what you do not deserve?”

“I should’ve aimed for the speakers.” I muttered. I hammered the little door for the sixteenth time. No one came to check. I moved back to the television.

It hurt like hell. Shards of glass or hard plastic burst around my elbow. The screen shorted out and shut down. My frustrating voice bitched for another few seconds before it spazzed out. I shook my arm in pain. I wiped my elbow trying to get the splinters and spurs away so I wouldn’t be cut to shit.

“Aagh!” I bitched and pressed my palm to my teeth to yank out and spit away a sliver. Blood welled up and ran down my lifeline.

“Smart. You’re a world conquering billionaire genius.” I admonished myself. I walked away from the busted up television. “Well, at least if I’m listening to myself now. I’ll be saying awesome things.”

I didn’t speak for the next immeasurable lump of time. There were no windows. The lights were boring office fluorescence. I couldn’t even hear pipes in the walls. The left side smelled like piss. I slumped my shoulders and wandered back to the broken glass.

“Fuck deluxe! Shit giggles!” I smiled for my stupid expletives. “Cunt smuggling, twat gargler ... Ah, I miss Rena. Lawrence and Lorraine were clearly my decisions, what do you think she would’ve named her own kids?”

I didn’t answer. Great. My blood pooled in my shirt which I had wrapped around one of the bigger blades of glass. I wormed it around the edge of the door. I found three bolts on one side, it clearly opened outward. I couldn’t reach the hinges on the other.

“Well, another mystery solved.” The glass crashed as I pitched aside my makeshift tool. I sucked my bleeding fingers. I felt weird. Robbed of other stimuli, the taste of my own blood was novel enough to keep me from flipping out.

“It’s no fun if there’s no one to panic with,” I grumbled. I kept my hand in a tight fist. The cut in my palm had stopped running but the one across my index and middle finger was still oozing. I kept my hand off the edge of the bed as I laid down. “It had to be you, didn’t it?”

I closed my eyes, thinking of Mel and Ellie. Those girls with their Brooklyn accents and perky tits. I imagined their thick strawberry blond hair and their visible excitement to see me. It didn’t help. I fucking hated masturbating with my left hand. I kicked off my pants as I swung back out of bed. I shook away my insignificant blood loss. I looked at the spatter on the wall. I could smell my piss in the air.

“Yeah, maybe I’m right? Maybe I have no business around kids.” I frowned and headed back for the couch.

“Her name is Noel, I have a dream about her...” I murmured to myself. My mind on my daughter’s chubby face before my view rolled up to see the soft smile on Amanda’s. She was beautiful. Smart. Reckless. I could’ve really loved her. I probably did. I smiled. I seemed to love all of the women. All of my family.

Amanda was still a mystery. I figured she was afraid of me. The Brian she had known for less than a whole 24 hours now. Assuming the story about that little coffee shop in Hell’s Kitchen was the whole story. I ground my teeth. She had been trying to make female viagra? Well, nothing puts a girl in the mood like long term mind control.

“I shouldn’t be laughing at that.” I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees. “Was she scared of me? Was she just a puppet? Am I the only one at fault? Do I want to believe that she was doing what evil me wanted her to?”

I didn’t answer. I sank back. Even thinking of her big tits and bright smile wasn’t enough for my left hand. My right hand was still leaking. I stomped back over to the door.

“I pissed everywhere and injured myself. Bring on the security!” I yelled. I counted to thirty and then back to zero. I think I stumbled over a couple numbers: seventeen sixteen fifteen sixteen fifteen fourteen, but I was pretty good at it. “Shit? Am I going to have to slit my wrists?”

There was a big razor of glass just waiting for me. I chose not to. I didn’t know if evil me thought it was better for me to die than it was for him to see his kids again. My, heartbeat, kids. I didn’t want to black out. I didn’t want him to come back. I didn’t care if he did from time to time if I had my family. Fuck Island was fun and all. I’d even pitch some of my freedom to hold Mel and my youngest-for-the-next-couple-of-months. I hoped she was doing well.

“Goddammit, Larry.” I moaned as I sat back down and looked at the broken screen. I considered pulling it out of the wall, but it had to be unnecessary. The only places to grip were forests of razor sharp glass. Yeah. I’d rather masturbate left handed.

“Shani gave me orange pills. You drove me around for Amanda to give me orange pills. I think Mel gave me orange pills.” I tried to focus on the last few days I was awake. Yet, they weren’t like memories of yesterday. I was trying to reach back months. “Dad says I whammied you, Larry. Is that why I had Shani? Was I some brutal pirate. I take what I want and I want what I take. Fuck. What did I do to you?”

I had no answer. I focused my thoughts on Shani. She had a crinkle that turned her really big smiles off center to her left. She had been so much the same. Except for the sexuality I hadn’t dealt with before. She was so much fitter. Mind control worked wonders for one’s exercise and diet. I laughed at myself.

I was in the best shape of my life. I had run around for days, chasing tail, fucking whores, and loving my family. I couldn’t even remember a moment I was out of breath or sore from it all. I loved being strong, being healthy. I frowned.

I did push-ups. I found the space by the bed and around the corner from the couch the cleanest. I cracked open the beginnings of the scabbing on my palm. Sets of twenty. In my memory, I managed 20 pushups once upon a time. I had been barely out of college. I called out everyone.

“ ... eighteen, nineteen, twenty!” I grinned without even feeling it.

“ ... eighteen, nineteen, sixty!” I was still laughing.

“ ... eighteen, nineteen, one hundred...” Now I was just bored.