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Inner Monologue of the Mad

Everyone thinks that I’m lost but I’m not! I’m still here! Please hear me! Please hear what I am saying!

Don’t listen to the others, they are confusing me, I don’t know what they are.  Are they absinthe? laudanum? Something in the tea?  The only thing I can hear clearly above their collective noise is his voice.  When he speaks the world snaps back into sharp focus, but when he doesn’t I cannot take a step or a breath without the others commenting on how it should be done. 

I am hungry, so hungry, but they don’t let me eat much.  I’m shaky and sick and it makes me more tired and sometimes I sleep and when I wake I am not sure how I came to be there, nor why I am doing what I am doing.

But today I managed something!  Two somethings!  It is a small victory against him and them, but I did it.  They must keep my hearth for me, no…it’s not just for me, it’s for the others too.  For Pocket who is lost to us, for Maggie who may not be yet and for me because I am not lost yet.

Jed! Jed! Don’t look at me like that, please!  I can see it in your eyes clearer than anywhere else.  Everyone thinks I am beyond reaching, that the broken physical is all that is left but please hear me, I am in here! I am SHOUTING, but they are so loud.  So loud you cannot hear me above them. But if you do not hear me in here who will, who? who? I need you, and Kaylee and Sky and everyone to see that this is NOT ME.  This is him!  Don’t let him do this to me…

This is why I sent the message to Tenk.  He tried, oh thank you for trying, I owe endlessly.  If only I had sat on my hearth one more time, if only I could see Pocket, I think it could fight them back.  He knows, he must know, because he tricked them.  They cannot cooperate so sometimes I can push through them and I was there, in my home, but he came and his song is unifying, we all wish to go to him when he calls to us. 

But I sent it, a part of my self, a lock of hair pulled as I combed and I sent it with the Doctor, who took it from me with the look one gives a person when making a vow to the dying.  Am I dying?  Perhaps…I cannot be sure.  What does it mean that we will marry?  I hope they do not trap me with him. 

Sometimes they win completely.  Sometimes I believe what they say, sometimes I even believe what I see.  I believe in the comfort of a large, warm comfortable bed and a roaring fire to keep back this endless cold.  But other times, when the light touches just right, I see that I am in an empty room, sleeping on bare stones, huddled before a mean little fire and I see myself as they must see me.  I can see the filth coating my arms, feel it in my hair.  My nails are black from the fireplace, from the soot I am always rubbing into my hands. 

In those moments I start to feel the same hopelessness.  Perhaps I am lost.  

Perhaps from this there is no way back.  

 

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5 Comments

  1. Bookworm Hienrichs Bookworm Hienrichs September 9, 2010

    ((Chilling!  Good work!))

  2. Queer Hermit Queer Hermit September 9, 2010

    Truly a cry of a soul from the depths of hell.

  3. LoPxie Artful LoPxie Artful September 10, 2010

    *sits crosslegged and rather still, on a high mountain in steelhead, chanting *

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