The long awaited.....
Invino Veritas: Short storyffice
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Jack stood staring blurry eyed at his reflection in the mirror, he had no idea how long he’d been asleep but it felt like his head had been filled with cotton wool and his mouth felt like rats had been decomposing in it over night. He stroked the sporadic hair that was all over his face and tried to remember the last time he’d shaved. Using his index fingers he removed the bed from his barely awake eyes. He turned the hot tap on and dropped the plug into the sink, positioning carefully as to cover the plug hole, due to it being the bath plug and it being bigger than what should have gone in the sink. Removing his ravor from it’s case he let it fall into the now steaming water, after a quick inspection of the three blades. He stood for a second contemplating growing a goatie. Marie was certainly unable to dictate his appearance, as it had been nearly three months since she had left him and his mind had departed not long after. Rinsing his hands under the still running water, he then turned it off tightly. Now Jack cupped his hands and started to splash the warm water all over his face and neck. “This’ll wake me up.” He caught himself saying out loud. He grabbed the can of shave gel from the window-sill and gave it a good shake. Using the hand which he’d just shaken it with, he squirted a small blog of the green gunk into his left hand. Then replaced the can in it’s usual home. With his right hand now free he started to rub the starting to foam gel all over his face and neck up to his chin. Making sure to cover all the facial fuzz. Washing the remaining foam from his hands he grabbed the razor from the water, giving it a quick shake he proceeded to start to shave the foam off. As he started at the side boards on his left side as he always did he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and for a second did recognise the person looking back. He knew it was him but this refection seemed a lot older, fatter and more worn down than he remembered. He continued to shave in his usual manner until only traces of the foam remained. Then plunging his face into the warm water he rinsed off the rest of the foam and dried his face with his dressing gown. Well it wasn’t exactly his dressing gown it used to be Maries but he’d adopted it when they moved in together as his old one had become too small for him and Marie always quipped that he looked like a Jedi in hers. Trying to smile in the mirror it reminded him of his nervous smile that he used to try to use to attract women but it always made him looked like he was having facial spasms. “Who’s a sexy boy then?” he tried to reassure himself. Suddenly a flash back hit him like a rocket powered steam roller would.
He was now stood looking at his reflection of himself in the mirror of his room in the hospital. He recalled that he’d awoke after a night terror and couldn’t return to sleep so he stood looking at himself trying to work out what to do. He recalled how vigorously his hands had been shaking and that his pyjamas were soaked with sweat. Crying he meandered to the door of his room, briefly glancing into the observation room opposite but no one was there. Quickly he turned the lock and lumbered onto the hall, then down the stairs. The medication they had given him was making basic motor skills slow and cumbersome, he realised that he was starting to feel cold and that he could have been simply shaking due to the warm sweat becoming cold. He remembered trying to explain to the nurse who was on duty between the sobs about what had happened. Wendy was a pretty, slender, blonde in her mid twenties with beautiful hair, and an attractive smile that she rarely gave. She said to him that it was just a dream whilst rustling papers on the reception desk and trying to look busy but coming across as completely disinterested. He exclaimed that he couldn’t return to sleep as he didn’t feel safe. She said that no one could possibly be trying to strangle him in his sleep. Doing a complete about turn he slumped into the smoking room. Removing his cigs from his waist band which he didn’t remember putting there, he flopped down like a dead weight into one of the chairs. The room was decorated in weird floral patterns and smelt musky, he noted as he popped a cig into his mouth. Grabbing a lighter from a nearby table he lit it and looked for the nearest ashtray. He then realised that the TV was on and he wasn’t the only one in the room. One of the other Nurses was sat their, Rob a guy with shaved head, stocky build and looking like he should be playing rugby not looking after the mentally deranged. “You OK?” he enquired. Jack looked over to him with contempt and mumbled “I’m in this place at two in the morning, feeling like someone has been strangling me for the last few hours. Yeah brilliant” he added sarcastically. He recalled the nurse seeming quite concerned which he realised was unusually as this guy had been a complete cunt to him on his admittance and Jack was still sure he recognised the face but could place from where. This nurse had suggested that he try using one of the relaxation tapes that they had after Jack had finished his tab. Trying to smile Jack concentrated on not concentrating and wondered into the conservatory part on the smoke room and put the radio on. This is where things went a bit fuzzy the songs he couldn’t recall but the music stirred up his emotions and he began to cry again. Slow painful sobs, as he held his head in his hands. “What am I doing here? What went so wrong that I’m in this place” he kept repeating it like a mantra. He was also trying not to let the nurse see. He had no idea how long he’d been sat there but Wendy pulled open the sliding door and asked if he was feeling tired. Jack shook his head and as he did more saline was released from his tear ducks. Holding out her hands to reveal an old looking cassette Walkman she said “This might help. It’s the relaxation tape of dolphin noises, it should help you settle.”
The next thing he remembered was lying in his bed after being escorted there by the two nurses. He put the foam padded headphones over his ears and pressed the play button. Nothing. Then cassette hiss followed by a dolphin call. Jack soon realised that these dolphins didn’t sound like they were frolicking happily in the sea but sounded more like they were being tortured. He tossed the phones off and cried again. Pulling himself together and realising he did feel quite so out of it. Getting out of bed he stormed down the stairs to give the nurses a piece of his mind. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he slammed the tape player on the desk which brought Wendy out of the office. “What’s wrong now?” she enquired gruffly. “Are you trying to make me feeling fucking worse than I already do?” asked Jack angrily. “Why, what’s wrong?” Wendy retorted. “This tape is like listening to dolphins undergoing the Spanish inquisition. These poor animals sound like they are being tortured”. Wendy laughed, “Some people don’t find the sounds dolphins relaxing.” “I’m fucking sure they don’t when it sounds like this. Fuck you, I’ll find my own way to sleep”.
As this memory diminished he could feel every hair on his body standing up. Realising that he should really find out what time it was and take his medication. Still feeling strange he dragged his feet out of the bathroom, past the toilet and into his bedroom. He noticed the alarm clock that he’d had since he was a boy on the cheap midi system. Pressing the power button on it. It fired straight into Joe Whiley talking about something or other. He wasn’t really that bothered he just felt like he needed to hear another voice. Then glanced at the time, 11:30. “Bollocks” he said loudly. He’d realised that he was going to be late for his psychiatric out-patients appointment if he didn’t get himself together and fast. Picking up a pair of jeans and a t-shirt he started to dress as he went into the living room. Throwing his rob on the sofa he looked around for where his tablets were. Then he recalled that he’d left them on the table with a glass of water from last night. Pressing the metallic bubble of the packaging the blister popped and out game a weird orange pill. Reaching for the water Jack popped the pill in his mouth and took a big gulp from the tumbler, finishing it’s remaining contents in one. He recalled that this medication was for dealing with the manic parts of his condition. He though to himself that he was no longer manic and he didn’t realise that you could get a pill for a broken heart. Grabbing his leather jacket from the back of the chair, he entered the kitchen. Looked at the mess and though he’d better clean up when he returned. Unlocked the front door to his flat and made his way onto the landing. He could see letters at the bottom of the stairs but wasn’t expecting anything. He locked the door behind him, and gingerly descended the stair. As he reached the ground floor he looked down at the letters and noticed there was nothing for him. Opening the Yale lock he stepped out in to the bright but bitterly cold winters morning air.
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