They’re Coming to Take Me Away

Prompt Day #236: Write the stream-of-consciousness of a paranoid who is being “taken away”

Let’s begin this by saying; how can you really make a short story out of stream of consciousness? Idk I’m not Virginia Woolfe. I can’t. So this one is just a series of thoughts by an untrustworthy narrator. So, if you skip this one, I won’t be mad. But read this part at least cause I need your help. If you read or have been reading my prompts/stories, I’d really appreciate it if you would comment with your favorite. See, in May, I am attending the Horror Writer’s Association Conference in Vegas and because I am a glutton for punishment, I signed up to do a public reading of my work. We are paired up with other authors (new or unpublished with respected or previously published authors) so I’ll be reading mine just before or after someone who’s already been successful. I have to choose something and I want one that the public will enjoy and can be read aloud. I can tweak/revise/etc as needed I just find that sometimes, I write a story that I think will be well received and no one seems to care much for it and then there are others I write and think “this one is blah” yet a lot of people comment. So what do I know? I need your help. Please comment, and if you liked a story and have ideas on how it could be better, let me know that too. Thanks. Mwauh

 

They’re Coming to Take Me Away

 

Well, this is it. I knew this day would come; they’ve been watching me for so long. I thought I could block them from monitoring my brain waves with all the metal I put on the walls and ceiling but of course, I should have known they would have more advanced equipment than us. Oh, I wish I was dealing with the government again, they were so much easier to avoid. But the aliens…not so much. It’s very smart of them to come in pretending to be paramedics, putting me in an “ambulance” and strapping me down to this cot. They want me to think I’m crazy. They want me to think this is all a hallucination.

Maybe that means they have plans to release me at some point. Maybe I’m being taken for some experiments again. I survived the last round, didn’t I? I don’t even remember all of it. Why is he talking to me about doctors and exams and hospital stays? They saw my apartment, they know I’m on to them. How long will they keep this rouse up? I should just say “I know who you are, so just tell me what you’re going to do to me.” The IV is a nice touch. It must seem so archaic to them to have to use one since they have the transdermal sonographic wave injectors. Good thing they didn’t take time to look around my place, find my notebooks and all the sketches and notes I’ve taken from the visions transmitted to me.

Did they really think that there wouldn’t be some residual information embedded in the devices they implanted in my head? When I sleep, I see these things, I know it is images relayed into my head by these chips. But what if they are purposefully broadcasting into me, making their world less foreign when I do finally see it. I can’t figure it out. They keep their expressions perfectly blank.

I have to get out of here. I have to get out of these restraints before they do some permanent damage. I have to be subtle though. Wriggle my hand against the straps. If I can just get it loose….No. It’s no use. They’ve done this before, they know how to restrain a human. The IV! Yes, if I can just dislodge it enough that it goes bad, he’ll have to untie that wrist to place a new one. But timing is everything. I listen for the driver to contact the mothership, to tell them how long before we get there. I can see the Earth watch on my guard’s wrist, patience.

Five minutes out. Now is the time. If I escape too close to the ship, there will be others to catch and likely punish me. Ok, now the IV is right up against the strap, pull, pull, I can feel the catheter bending in my vein, God, it’s so painful. Must continue. I feel the sting and coolness of the saline pouring under my skin. Moan to get his attention. Yes, yes, he sees it. He is taking it out. What? Why is he not putting another one in? Why is he, what’s that? Oh God, what has he got now? Two minutes left before I’ll be lost for good. Taken aboard the ship. The needle he has, it’s so long and what is the milky substance in it? Where will he put it?

Fight, fight against the straps. I feel one loosen, pull, my skin is pulling off, I feel the warm, sticky blood. It has to be now. He has the needle it’s coming. If only I can get my hand free in time. Shit. He’s got it buried in my thigh. It burns like acid. The testing has begun already, Acid in my leg. I can feel it eating away at my skin. I…..feel….spinning…darkness. Must stay awake, Lights, bright light and fresh air, I’m being taken out of the transport vehicle. Blur of colors and warped faces. Big eyes and faces. I’m screaming, am I screaming? Is there sound? More pain, burning, being eaten alive. Too…late.

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