The Disability Chat

T.Mor:

Ok...so...spinach. No Idea. At all. What 'spinach' was...other than green.

I tried it. Ok... I didn't know even how to describe it...er...other than...kind of like...er...uhm...green. I guess.

I looked at Cricket's plate. ...how did he have skettios? ...How come I couldn't have skettios? ...I guess that my wrist erm..paper...bracelet thingy told her I couldn't have it.

But...I liked skettios. And I knew they wouldn't make me sick later. A lot of Earth food makes me kind of...not feel good. Really...not feel good...like...kind of like...erm...sick or something.

"Erm...I'll...trade you the skettios for...I don't care...anything." I did some supplementary pointing...It was hard to reach across the table a bit, because...well, beyond my waist...I couldn't really move to lean forward in my seat.

Cricket

I glanced down at my little bowl of . . . looked like some sort of pasta soup, which he was pointing to. Ah. That was part of my dinner, that he was pointing to . . . Come to think of it, I wasn't sure of the last time I'd eaten something. Ah. Soupy pasta stuff looked pretty good right about then.

I glanced back up at T.Mor and his meager . . . well, whatever they'd put on his plate. It wasn't much. Toast. Mush. Spinach. Well . . . perhaps my eyes were bigger than my stomach, anyhow. I slid the little bowl of pasta stuff over to T.Mor's side of the table.

T.Mor:

Yes...Skettios. There we go...something...normal. Something I knew. Something... that I could eat.

"Thank you." I tried to enunciate for him, and shover the whole rest of my plate over, completely having forgotten about the little white circles in the little plastic cup. He could take whatever he wanted in return, I didn't eat much, according to what erm...well...had been put on my plate. I mean...If there had been some jello, I would have eaten the toast...but...no...no jello. It was...a lot of food for one meal. Like...a lot. "Take anything you want." I told him.

I picked up a spoon and started eating, surprised that the skettios were warm. I was not used to them warm...that was like...fancy right there.

I realised that it wasn't technically my turn to eat today. But...I hadn't had to pay for the food...and I didn't have anyone that I had to share rations with...so...maybe it was ok?

Cricket
I stared down at all the food for a moment longer, and finally started eating. Perhaps it wasn't the best food; it had a lot less flavor than stuff I'd tasted before. Everything had its own little package. Perhaps plastic sucked the flavor out of stuff, then. I shrugged and picked along with this little white plastic . . . utensil. It looked like a spoon with a bad haircut, or something. There were slits carved into its tip, though I didn't know why, and I wasn't feeling up to asking.

Things were pretty quiet at the table.

After dinner, I walked back with T.Mor to that blank white cell with a tree in the window. The sun was sinking fast, I noticed.

Since there was an FF, and Kara hasn't posted for almost a month...
Marley
Nate had to leave a while ago. Visiting hours and all.
When he left... I felt... cold. Empty. Why? I remember he used to be special. Really special. I just can't remember how or why.
After he left, I wrapped myself up in a blanket, trying to warm back up, and laid on my side. Why was I still so cold? ...I wanted to know. And why did he have to leave me? ...Why won't he come back...?
Hours passed. Or minutes. A nurse or somebody put dinner on my nightstand, but I didn't touch it.
A tear fell down my face like it did in the hallway, and I realized that maybe /this/ was a sad moment. Then I used one of the orange needles, like the doctor had told me to... and forgot. So much easier that way.

T.Mor:

The rest of dinner was kind of...quiet...After I'd finished and was staring at my empty bowl of skettios for a bit, the nice man came over and told me I had to eat the little white circles as well. And that I couldn't chew them. I did so...and they tasted like...er...badness.

At the end of dinner, the nice man came back and offered to drive me back to my room...And Cricket came along with us of course.

"Are you going to need help with pyjamas?" The nice man asked as he wheeled me into the room.

Pyjamas. What...what were those? "What...what are those?" I asked.

He looked at me funny, and kind of squatted down so that he was all...on my eyesight level... "Clothes that you sleep in? Do you have anything with you other than what you're wearing?" He was...really...like...calm about asking, but...I still kind of felt funny, like...I was missing something or something.

"...No...er..." I said, hoping that I wouldn't be in some kind of trouble. "Uhm...Cricket might not either..." I realised.

"Ah. That's alright...I'll get you both a pair." He left and was back in no time, with two sets of...vertically striped..clothes...in clear plastic bags. "There." He handed me and Cricket each a bag, and I was kind of...shocked...uhm...I'd never had a pair of clothes..that were....like...brand new before...It was kind of...wierd. I opened the plastic, and they were soft... And...like...crispy from being...folded.

I then...er...kind of realised...why he had offered me some help...swapping out the pants I was wearing...for different pants...would be...er...hard. Like... I hadn't even...thought of that. I wished...that I could see an easy way to do it myself...but, If taking off my boots earlier today had been hard...This would be...impossible.

"...uhm...yeah. ...I...I need...help..." I muttered, looking at my hands.

"Alright. I'm going to move you into the bed first, if that's ok with you..." He was already pulling the footrest off my chair.

"uhm...ok..." I said quietly. I felt kind of...useless. I kind of hoped there would be a way to get some privacy...uhm... I mean... Like...yeah.

The nice man again lifted me out of the chiar and onto the bed, and I started pulling my legs up onto the bed, like how I did earlier. I noticed that he was pulling a curtain around my bed. Well...that was what that was for then.

"It's actually easier if you just stay on the edge of the bed for a minute..." He told me, sounding all...casual about this.

"...Ok..." I said hesitantly. I could see my feet dangle off the the bed...but...nothing. They just...sat there.

"Ok. I'm going to help you with the pants, but I'm guessing you'd like to change your own shirt." He stepped in front of me, and looked all...calm and...understanding. I could only nod at that...

Even though I was...really...really...uh...uncomfortable about the whole thing... It kind of...went alright. Like...I felt totally...useless...and...like...a five year old...having some...other person er...pull my pantlegs over my completely useless feet...It was...I mean....I kind of felt like...I dunno...I didn't like...the...feeling. uhm...

But after about...five minutes of having my legs manipulated around, I was finally in pyjama pants.

"You're...very thin." The nice man stated, sounding a bit concerned as he went to leave.

I just...nodded. I didn't feel like I could really talk at the moment...As soon as he left the curtained area I swapped out shirts. The sleeves didn't quite come down as far as my uniform sleeves did...and so I could clearly see a few scars on both arms...

"I'm...er...done..." I muttered, as I finally got my...newly pyjama'd legs onto the bed.

The nice man pulled back the curtain for me, said goodnight, and left.

Cricket

The package of striped clothes sagged in my hands uselessly, and I looked up in question. "Ah. What'm I--?" I started quietly, but the doctor person had dissapeared behind a curtain, so I stared down at the stripes again. What was I supposed to do with it? I compared the stripes to my own clothes, which I admit with pride, were scruffed up. Battle scars of fabric, aye? But the white shirt still looked light-colored, and there weren't enough tears for the clothes to be falling off or anything, so what was the deal?

I tossed the package across the room frisby-style, and it landed on a chair. There was no way in holy hell that I was wearing a uniform. That must've been what it was, a uniform. But see . . . I'd already lost my hearing. That was almost losing my identity in itself. Now they were trying to dress me up to look like a walking candy cane? Not a chance. And if I'd just broken a rule of some sort, well . . . being stowed away in this place was a bit of prison already. Not much more they could do to protest.

The doctor man left. T.Mor was wearing stripes when I turned around to see him, and the next thing I noticed was that it was dark outside. Then why was it still light in the roo--? ah. Electricity is a pain in the butt. Never thought I'd say this, but I missed the Bell Tower. I missed Lu.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I placed a fingertip to my throat and asked, "What now?"

T.Mor:

...That...was a good question. I mean...I wasn't really going anywhere... And it was night. And...I mean...

Oh Internet. I didn't have any caffiene with me. And it had been... What... maybe three days... Since I'd last slept... I didn't want to sleep. Sleep... never really went well. I mean... It just never did... Even though, I realised that Cricket wouldn't actually be able to...er..you know...hear me...

But still... I didn't want to sleep. It was...I mean...And...Especially since...

"...I dunno...Cricket...er...Sleep I guess?" Although, I had every...intention of staying up...for...er... as long as possible. I had been feeling a bit more...er...less awake since dinner though...And I wondered if it had been the little white circles...I didn't know.

I noticed then that...he wasn't wearing pyjamas. "...er...No Pyjamas?" I added, pointing towards the bag on the chair. I tried to be... er...enunciatey...but I had trouble even speaking most of the time...so...er.

I messed with the buttons that controlled my bed, manipulating it into a less sitting kind of position, where I could pretend to sleep, in a little while.

I also kind of wanted to see what would happen if I messed with the shrinebox on the wall...but...I didn't know how...and...getting up and walking over to it...was...er...not really possible.

Cricket

Sleep.

Sleep. Did I hear that right? Or, well, you know what I mean. Perhaps I was getting better at the lip reading thing. My eyes flitted back to the striped clown suit on the chair. ". . . No way in 'ell," I said, hoping my voice was more confident than it felt.

Sleep? Sleep-- but it was only nightfall! It was hours before sleep. But then, T.Mor's eyes were as dark as ever. He needed it . . . aye? ". . . ah. Sleep . . . aye," I nodded, giving a small smile.

T.Mor:

I still wasn't entirely sure why Cricket didn't want to wear the pyjamas...But... really... It wasn't my business.

He smiled a little bit, and...then I realised...the lights were still on. Which wouldn't have been a problem...but...I mean...I was pretending to sleep... and..er... You sleep in the dark...At least...that's how it works in Auda... to er...save electricity.

"Er...Lights?" I asked, pointing at the light switch...Which...I should have been able to just...get up and get on my own. Instead of you know, doing that, I worked on getting my sheets out from under my legs. If I could have just...ugh.

My eyes kinda felt that way they do when...you haven't slept for three days, and then you try to play videogames... I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to sleep. No no no... but I was...so... tired...I let my head fall back on my stack of pillows, and stared at the ceiling. At least...At least this bed didn't make my back hurt.

Tomorrow I'd see about coffee for dinner.

Forget her saying she used meds in the last post >.> this way, she'll have to be transferred like... in the next morning or afternoon.
Marley
I eyed the remaining needles, tracing one with my finger. I felt like... they were... the enemy. Like part of me... wanted to fight it. There were no feelings associated with it, it was more like a vague instinct. So I picked up the box and threw it across the room, my face blank.
It smashed into the wall, exploding with glass and medicine, though not loud enough to alert nurses. Might freak out the people in the other room, though. Oh well.
A small laugh of satisfaction bubbled from my lips, followed by a tiny, smug smile. Hah, that'll teach them to... I blinked, that flash of emotion dissapearing in an instant. That was... huh. I kept my smile on my face, though, not out of emotion but... a sort of curiosity. I hesitantly put my fingers up to my lips and felt it. A smile. But why? I let it drop, before wrapping myself back up in my blanket, the coldness returning. Then I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep.

Cricket

Lights. Ah . . . right. People slept with the lights off, usually. So I swept over to the wall, flipped the switch--

--And froze as the room was immersed in black, my entire sense of placement swiped from underneath me in an instant. This was not a normal darkness, oh no, this was not the calm shield that I used to carry around with me before. This black was neverending and . . . I had no idea where I was . . . I couldn't hear my own breath, or an outside breeze, or sounds bouncing off the walls-- oi my my, that last one sounded too much like Mr. Face for comfort. Things I'd never even noticed that I heard, gone. I clutched the doorframe as if it would keep me from falling through the floor; because that's what it felt like. Like the tile beneath me would just shatter, and I would tumble into an endless pit, because I couldn't hear my feet on the ground.

I like the dark. I like the dark. I like the dark . . .

And then my grip relaxed as my eyes slowly adjusted, and I saw images fade up from the black. There was the wall . . . and I glanced around to see the beds . . . and . . . T.Mor . . . my eyes flitted down to see the floor lit a dim silver from the window. Oi my my. I started breathing again.

"G- . . . G'night," I said, but remained glued to the spot. I like the dark. It wasn't a big deal. I could walk back to that bed any time I wanted to, because I liked the dark. That's how it'd been for years. Night was friend. Day was obnoxious. I, ah . . . felt a bit betrayed, almost, like when someone shows a side of themselves you'd never experienced, and suddenly you're face to face with a new enemy. But it wasn't an enemy, no, not at all, and I kept telling myself so as I slid down the wall and sat. The floor was more familiar, anyhow. Who needed a bed?

I remained in that spot and tried to convince myself.

T.Mor:

I wasn't paying much attention to the lights being turned off until Cricket said goodnight...and then didn't move.

...and also, around the same time...I heard a...shattery kinda noise from the wall of the room next door...huh...wonder what that was...

Back to Cricket...Uhm...I had turned my head back toward him in time to see him slide down against the wall. ...er...That wasn't good...

I wanted to go see what was wrong, but...that would require me being able to get out of bed first...this was so frustrating...

In the end, I just kind of...buttonmashed the call button, because...well, It was the only thing I could do.

Cricket

Something moved in the corner of my eye, and I winced when the room flashed alive with light once again. Suddenly, the tile was no longer its dim shade of silver, and was blazing bright white. Ouch. I blinked away the glare and squinted up at the guy who'd walked in. The doctor person. Nurse. Whatever they were called. They all looked the same to me.

He said something that I couldn't read, squatting to my height, and gestured to the bed.

I shook my head. No, I could take care of myself. I was tired of feeling helpless. I'm not dumb. I just can't hear you. Stop looking at me like I'm some poor little kid. Although . . . this guy didn't look at me like that. I had a feeling that was part of his job, though. Make us feel like we weren't grouped up in a white room because we got messed up some way or another. But he'd offered to help, and I didn't want it. I was tired of needing it.

The guy looked understanding, and rose to his full height again. He held out a hand to help me onto my feet, but I stood on my own, and sauntered to the bed.

It was . . . so odd . . . not hearing my footsteps . . . and I felt a sudden pang of longing, which I shoved away.

I turned to face him with an expression that stated clearly, See? I did it. I don't need you. And, well, he just smiled, and nodded, and set the striped clothes gently on the sheets. When did he pick those up? I hadn't heard him-- ah. Well. I mentally kicked myself.

He said something about the light switch. Whether or not I wanted him to . . . ah. I waved the question away. Turn it off already.

The guy nodded again, wearing that same smile . . . no one was that nice. No one ever smiled like that unless there was something in it for them. It was a bit discomforting. 'Goodnight,' he mouthed, waiting for a response as his hand hovered over the switch.

I waved him away again.

The dark was back, and the door closed, and I was alone with my thoughts and the blind pit. The sheets felt too soft as I backed against the bed, and swivelled to lie on top of them. The pillow was . . . downy and clean, to say the least. Welcome to the hospital. Where everything is too perfect, nonetheless, the perfect only masks the horrible parts. The people who got messed up.

I don't recall ever falling asleep that night. I suppose I did at one point, but it was many hours later, or so it seemed. The only part I remember was me staring at the dark ceiling, the dark staring back, and that ever-continuing thought running through my head:

I like the dark.

T.Mor:

I watched Cricket interact with the nice man...He seemed...like...he didn't trust him or something... And I still didn't really understand about the pyjamas...

I'd ask in the morning.

After the lights went out a second time, I sat in the dark and tried to keep myself awake. It... It was...really hard, without the caffiene... I watched the dark shadow of the tree through my window for a while...I stared at the ceiling...I pinched and pulled at scabs on my arms...just trying to stay awake...anything...to stay awake.

Not...not like that really...er...worked... After about an hour...I think...I dropped off into...


Work...I was at work. Just...just like every other day...Working... Only... This wasn't cellblock 3. No. No, I was working on cellblock five. ...probably...finally decided to do that whole...payraise...thing...

I was...working on some...er...riot negotiator. Exacto knives. Gore. He screamed... And...I kept going...because, that's... just... the kind of monster I am...

And then Mr.Face was in the room... He hadn't opened the door...he was just...there...unstaring at me, talking. "Mr.Namechov, I have come to the realisation that... you have not yet filed your tax returns. You are aware of course... of what day it is?"

He said my name in front of a prisoner... And... oh Internet...It was the thirty second... How could I have...

Ana.

Our house... Not more fires...no... nononono...

"I do believe the incendiary tax collectors were sent out this morning, Mr.Namechov, and... well, you were here, flaunting your negligence right under my... pardon the expression, nose. That. Will. Not. Do." And he grabbed me...and pulled me into the cell next door...

And...It didn't even matter...that I was being chopped up...well, it did....because...it hurt like....fire...and...acid...and...bad things...and I heard myself scream as he ripped things apart...my back... It was...I heard things cracking....and..it burned..well...some of it burned...some of it...I couldn't...

Then, suddenly I was watching my house burn...and... I didn't...where was my sister? ...where... Oh no....nonono.

I'd... I'd... No...

My eyes snapped open, and I was...a shaking mess...I didn't completely remember where this was...where I was...My breathing was all... Wait...no...where were...I couldn't...

I threw my sheets on the floor in a bit of a panic...I couldn't feel my legs...I couldn't...It wasn't real...no...It had to be...

And then reality caught up with me. I looked at my motionless legs, and forced myself to...shut up. Just like at home...Didn't want Ana to come...yell.

And that threw me for a loop again, and I freaked out...I had paid my taxes right? What day was it... Why wasn't I at home...It hadn't been...

No...No, It was the 23rd...I still had...like...another week...and a day...I ran a hand through my hair...all stressed out like, and found that it was all...damp from sweat.

It took me about an hour to sort out what all was...real and what all wasn't...to aclm my breathing, and...decide that I had actually paid my taxes...that my house...probably wasn't on fire...that my sister was...probably ok...and by then, the...er...giant yellow thing outside my window...kind of...blocked by the tree, was starting to er...happen.

I hoped that I hadn't screamed all that loudly...I mean...I knew I said stuff and screamed...and all that in my sleep...Ana would...like I said, yell at me about it...

I remembered that Cricket wouldn't have noticed anyway. I wondered how thick the walls were then...

Cricket

I absolutely hated dreams at the moment. Not because I'd had nightmares, oh no, the dreams weren't any worse than the usual string of nonsensical drama. I didn't even remember them, except for one detail. I heard that nonsense, and it was gone right as soon as I grudgedly woke up. Perhaps, it was a blessing and a curse. Of course, no no, I never wanted to forget what things sounded like . . .

. . . But see, I'd completely forgotten that I couldn't hear. It had been an average morning. I woke up, didn't open my eyes, and eavesdropped on whatever might be happening around me. As usual. It was a moment before I realised that there was nothing to hear, and on top of that, whatever I was laying on was uncannily soft.

Shit.

I think at that point, I let out something of a low, angry growl. Oh bother. I was not opening my eyes just yet. This was not something I enjoyed waking up to, and by hell, I was going to let the world by shunning the early hours of morning.

Oi my my. I hate Mondays.

Marley
I woke up with a sound.
It was a fairly loud sound, ripping through my throat.
It was the first sound I had made since I started my medicine. And... it didn't sound like it should because of my tongue.
But still, it was there.
I woke up laughing.

And I kept laughing, even past the point that I even remembered what was so funny. But it was amazing. I felt alive again.
Whole.
Sane.
...Happy.
I was even laughing too much to notice the nurse come in with a shocked and worried expression. Laughing too much to hear the nurse realize what I had done to my meds. My face was lit up, my eyes shining, and I just felt an immense joy, happy just to be /alive/. To breathe, to see, to feel. Just... so happy. My side burned from not breathing, but I didn't care, it was more than worth it.
My laughter slowly wound down to a chuckle, then a giggle, then silence.
So did my emotions. From a joy, to a happiness, to contentment... to nothing.
Back to cold.

T.Mor:

I nearly jumped out of my...er...bed...when I heard Cricket growl. Metaphorically... 'Cause...er... well... you know. I'd just gotten myself all...calmed down, and then he went and made abrupt...kind of startling noises...

Of course...he couldn't really tell... but...er. I figured that Cricket was kind of waking up...He hadn't made any noises before that.

It would probably be good...to do the whole...getting out of bed, putting on clothes thing now... Even better if I could have...you know... done it myself.

I hit my call button. Somebody different showed up this time. Some lady. ...er... I didn't really want to ask her to help me with getting dressed...that...that would be wierd... Like... really wierd...

"Good morning." She smiled all nice like. "What do you need?"

"Erm. ... ..." I said. "Uhm...Where's the...the guy from last night? ...er..." I asked nervously.

"At home. Sleeping, probably. His shift ended at 4am. Why? What do you need?" ...Crap. ...Was that going to happen every morning? ...Was there always going to be someone different? And...she was a she..and that... that was...

"Uhm... er." I stated. "I need...help..." I hated saying that... I mean.. It was a true sentence...but...Just... "uhm..." I noticed that my clothes had been all neatly folded on that chair where Cricket had thrown his pyjamas last night. ...I kind of stared at that instead of continuing my sentence.

She followed what I was seeing I think. "Need help getting dressed? That's fine." She was so...like...it was just...a non-issue for her...and here I was freaking out...about a lack of privacy that...I would probably never get back.

She pulled the curtain...And I swung my legs off the edge of the bed...And... actually...It went about the same as last night...Although, she talked a bit...like...about stupid things...The weather...some news events that didn't make sense to me...How skinny I was... I mean... I didn't know why they always brought that up. It was...fine...I wasn't...that skinny...

And then she went just outside the curtain for me to change my shirt, and after that she helped me into my chair. "Anything else?" She asked all nice-like.

"...no...uhm." I muttered, as I pulled a pillow from my bed back onto my chair and rearranged myself so that my back didn't hurt again...just like yesterday.

Cricket

There was more light in the room, suddenly, so I smothered my face in the overly-fluffy pillow to block it out. It didn't work. So I rolled over with the pillow still pressed against my face, in some attempt to . . . alright. My logic after I first wake up is none, aye? So for some reason, I thought that rolling over would be a good way to magically poof away electricity and poof back my hearing.

FWUMP.

I didn't hear the fwump. I narrated it in my head. Suddenly, I was on the floor, smothered in a pillow. Nice . . . cool . . . non-squishy floor . . .

"Ow."

T.Mor:

As the lady left the room, Cricket rolled out of bed. ...like... literally... Uhm... onto the floor...

I hesitantly pulled up on my brakes and tried to roll across the room...all...erm..casual...so i could poke him on the shoulder...

Only...I rolled backwards into my own bed first...And then nearly ran into Cricket's bed...And...well...I got there eventually.

I poked Cricket...We needed to go find coffee...like...needed. I was not having another night like that any time in the immediate future.

Cricket

Someone poked me.

I hoped it was T.Mor, because that would give me more reason to, well, get up. If it was one of the docter people, well, soon they would be the one needing medical attention. Here went nothing. I forced my eyes open, sort of twisted around so I was facing up, and winced as I slid the protective fluff off my face. T.Mor was staring down at me. "Ah." I whistled a short greeting, and snapped my eyes shut again. "Mhhrrrpardonwhaddawant."

Shit. I would have to see to see his response. Alright . . . I blinked my eyes open again.

Agh! Light.

Oi my my. That was painful.

Marley
I'm hungry. Hm. I stood up, the nurse still watching me, wary. She said something about medicine, but I didn't pay attention, brushing past her. Food, I needed food, I was hungry. Where to get food?

T.Mor:

"...I need coffee...uhm...come on..." I said, waiting until I saw his eyes again ...so I knew he could see me say words. "Will you...erm...drive?" I asked.

I was not feeling like hitting the call button again, and seeing that lady who was not that guy from last night...because...that would just be...awkward.

Cricket

". . . Cofffffff . . . eeeee . . . ?" Aye? Coffee? I think that's what he said. That would make sense, aye? Coffeecoffeecoffee . . . T.Mor needed coffee . . . that meant I had to stand up . . . Oh bother.

For T.Mor.

On the count of three.

One. Two. Two and a half. Two and a quarter. Two and a whatever-is-half-of-quarter. Two and an 'I-don't-particularily-like-math-in-the-morning.' Four. Five . . .

With a whistle that I couldn't hear, I pushed myself up off the ground. ". . . I'll 'ave you know . . . I 'aven't a clue, ah, where I'm going . . ." I used one hand to make sure I was talking and the other to push him out the door. "Cafeteria. Aye?"

T.Mor:

After a minute and a whistle...he got up, and I let up on the brake levers for him.

"Er...yeah...cafeteria, I think.." I said...while facing forward in my chair... Right. That that wouldn't work... That... that wouldn't work...at all.

I made one of those...er...thumbs-up gestures...you know the one...because...if I had to turn arond...things would...really...really hurt...and...I didn't want that.