He spent his last few hours not really doing much. Little things would pop into his head now and then, but there was nothing in particular he was thinking about. No real emotions were coming to him, well, at least none he could decipher. He knew that he felt something, he just wasn't sure what. He had spent so much time in solitary that all off his emotions ran together, creating one emotion that he felt all the time. It really didn't fit the descriptions of any common emotions that people feel - he wasn't happy, or sad, or angry - it just was nothing big, nothing important. He nibbled on his last meal - cornbread, biscuits, potatoes and gravy, and chicken - but there really wasn't much taste to it. It didn't taste bad, but it didn't also taste good. Really, it didn't taste much like anything.
As the day slowly shifted into night, Magna stared at the walls. He found a certain comfort staring at the walls. They were just there - as plain as they could be, which was Magna felt like. Plus, the walls didn't expect anything from him - no last minute redemption, no falling to his knees to ask forgiveness, no wild escape attempt. The walls were right there, staring back at him, as Magna's one emotion emitted from his presence, bounced off the walls, and came right back to him. They were too completely different objects - one nonliving, made of concrete, and the other a humanoid, made of flesh - yet they felt the exact same thing at that moment. A sense of being, of existing - the wall was a wall, and the human was a human, and there wasn't much else to it but that.
The priest showed up five minutes before the guards did, and was let into the cell. It really didn't register in Magna's mind what the priest was trying to do or why he was even there in the first place, all he knew was that he was disrupting the bond between Magna and the wall. He was an intruder, and he was proving to be quite an annoyance. Some time passed as Magna was having trouble concentrating. He was trying to block the priest out, but for some reason he stayed in the cell and in Magna's mind. He floated there, drifting through Magna's brain waves - but he didn't just exist like Magna and the wall. There was something more he was trying to do. He never stopped talking, and that confused Magna. He didn't like the priest. He was much different from the wall - he didn't belong there.
Those minutes seemed unusually long, as if they were to have some special purpose. They didn't, though, they were just long, which Magna decided was fine with him. He didn't care one way or the other. The guards came, and picked him up, and set him down in the hall. The priest walked in front, carrying a black book. His mouth still hadn't stopped moving. The guards didn't say anything, which suited Magna just fine. They walked on either side of him as the gang moved down the hall. Magna stared at the lights above, as he walked without thinking. There was a hollow noise, a rumbling with each step he took. It echoed through the hall, and through his brain.
Magna was sure glad to sit down again, and he thought that maybe everyone would go away so that there would be no more distractions. Instead, there were more people in the room. He would prefer to stare at the walls then be in the company of these people who obviously wanted something for him, expected something from him. They strapped him down like they had at the barber's, only the belts holding his arms and legs down were tighter. They put some sort of helmet on, and it was poking him every which way. There was so more talking, and everyone seemed to be staring at him. Magna was very confused, he didn't understand why they just didn't all leave him alone. He didn't understand why he couldn't just exist, why he couldn't go back to his cell and just be, like he was doing before he was so rudely interrupted.
After some more noise and some more talking, the men who's faces began to blur together stared at Magna, and nodded their heads. Something then pinched his arm. Something's wrong , he thought. Oh well, it doesn't matter to me.
It was curious to Magna when he woke up in a white room. Again, he was strapped down, but there was no helmet, and these straps were much looser. He sat in a white chair, with a window in front of him. The curtains were closed, so he couldn't see out of them. To the left of him was a bed, with white sheets and white pillows and white blankets, and to the left of him was a door. It too was white, and Magna could only tell it was a door from the silver doorknob. The room was very lit, from a light above, but it was not harsh. It was very peaceful, and Magna soon began to feel at ease. However, it was still curious to him why he wasn't dead.
Maybe I am dead , he thought. This was an interesting thought. He hadn't quite thought about what would happen after he died. He wasn't expecting anything big, but this was a little unusual. He didn't feel like he was dead. He was breathing normally, and he didn't feel as if he were out of his body, he still felt very alive. Once again, these facts were merely interesting, and not of much importance to Magna. Pretty soon, he would be staring at the walls again and none of this would matter.
Magna had lost all track of time, but he guessed he hadn't been there too long when the door opened. A man, in a white suit, with a white lab coat on over it, entered. He was carrying another white chair in one hand, and a clipboard in the other. He had long, straight white hair that came down to his shoulders. He wore glasses, and smiled a crooked smile. There was something about him, much different from the priest, something about him that belonged. He was calm, focused, and when he sat down in front of Magna, he just sat there to exist. He didn't say anything. At first Magna tried not to give this guy his attention, instead he tried to stare at the walls over him, but eventually he felt his vision drifting helplessly into these man's eyes. This didn't bother Magna, it didn't annoy him - it just happened.
It was a while longer before the man spoke. He been in the room quite a while before Magna began looking in his eyes, and Magna had been looking in his eyes quite a while before he began to talk. That's when he broke their eye contact, looked at his clipboard, and looked back.
"Jack Magna?" he asked with a smile and an anxious face. Magna didn't say anything, he just kept looking. He found himself more and more concentrating on this man in front of him. He recognized his name, and sat there, very interested in his visitor.
"Jack Magna?" the man asked as he looked down at the clipboard. "Prisoner number four-two-six-nine-three-three-eight-six-seven-eight." The man looked back at Magna, who was still looking at the man. The man titled his head and smiled.
"Nice to meet, Mr. Magna. I'm Byron," he said. "I guess you could say that I am your fairy godmother. I'm here to give you a second chance." He looked into Magna's eyes.
"Did you hear me? I said I'm here to give you a second chance. You're not going to die." Magna still did not respond. While this man was pleasant, and Magna didn't mind having him in the room, he still didn't care for any words that came out of his mouth.
Just then, Byron stood up and waved his hand directly in front of Magna's eyes, making him blink. Byron then tilted his head and grunted. He sat down again, sighed, and went looking through his notes on his clipboard.
"Well, it doesn't say anything here about you being deaf," he said while reading. "But sometimes a traumatic experience can do that to a person." He began to move his chair closer to Magna, and stopped just as their legs were touching. Byron was now directly in front of Magna. This confused Magna very much, but that soon passed. "Seeing something horrible, or being forced to do something unthinkable can cause trauma to a person, cause apart of that person to snap, causing them to want to block the world out. They can loose their sight, their hearing, their ability to talk, and before they know it, they've blocked the world out."
Byron's right arm shot straight forward barely missing Magna's face as he snapped. Magna instinctively turned in that direction. Byron then did it to the left, and once again, Magna turned. Byron smiled and nodded. He pushed his chair away, and stood up. He began to pace around the room, keeping his eyes on Magna. However, Magna did not keep his focus, and continued to stare at the wall when Byron left his chair. Magna figured that Byron was leaving, which proved that walls were more trustworthy than humans, that the walls would never leave him. This human, on the other hand, just abruptly got up and was now going away.
What Magna didn't see was that Byron didn't leave, he just walked around Magna until he couldn't see him, and threw his clipboard to the floor as hard as he could. Magna's head instinctively jerked, but he soon discovered he could not see what was in back of him, he returned his gaze back to the wall. Byron, without a moments hesitation, walked back into Magna's view and slapped him hard.
This was a very strange sensation for Magna: it was wonderful and horrible at the same time. He wasn't sure how else to describe. He kept his eyes closed as his face burned. Soon, like everything else but the wall, the sensation was gone. Magna returned his stony gaze back to the wall as if nothing had happened. Byron frowned.
"Well?!," he shouted. "Do you have nothing to say?" Byron was almost frantic. He was getting red in the face. "Speak to me! SPEAK!!"
Magna could tell that Byron was very angry, and he realized he wanted Magna to speak. The only problem was that Magna had nothing to say. What was the use of getting excited over something that didn't stay? That just left after a matter of minutes. Magna liked the wall much better: it was always there.
"I know you hear me! I know you're here!" Byron shouted. He raised his hand again, this time really red in the face. Magna closed his eyes and tilted his head from Byron as if he was trying to escape the oncoming blow. After a couple of seconds, something strange happened. Magna was covered by warmth, and it felt very good. He opened his eyes to see that Byron was hugging him, that Byron had wrapped his arms around Magna's waist and was squeezing tightly. This was a different sensation then the last, it was much better. The other one seemed to be more exciting, but this one made Magna warm all over, which made him feel good. To his disappointment, this didn't last very long either, as Byron pulled away. Magna, fed up with this entire thing, turn his attention immediately back to the wall. Byron stood up, smiling at first, then frowning when he saw Magna's blank expression.
Byron slumped down into his chair, and shook his head. He looked back up at Magna for a minute, before returning to his notes. He rumbled through them, with no enthusiasm, not sure what he was looking for. He threw his clipboard to the ground, took of his glasses and rubbed his eyes, and then just sat there for a while. He got up lazily, put his glasses back on, and began to loosen the straps on Magna's chair. First his hands, then his feet became free, but Magna just sat there. Byron then grabbed Magna's hands and pulled his to a standing position, and Magna didn't resist. He didn't see any point. He thought that they were probably going to take him to that room again with all those people waiting to watch his die. Instead, Byron walked Magna to the window, and wrapped Magna's hand around the cord to the curtain, and pulled. The curtain went up.
The world was outside, as Magna could see. Just outside the window was a city street with buildings and people and cars. At first, it seemed like a normal ordinary city street, but Magna looked closer. Something's wrong here , he thought. He surveyed the streets. All the buildings were the same height and the same color, one after the other in rows. Cars drove slowly down the street, bumper to bumper, also in nice neat rows. People walked in single-file lines, and every last one of them wore a blank expression on there face. There were hardly any sounds, and all the colors were greys and light blues. The people never stopped moving: down the street, in and out of the buildings, and they all seemed to be in complete order. The cars never stopped coming, just one after the other. The buildings never differed, they were exactly the same. First there was a street, then a row of buildings, then another street, then a row of buildings. Everything seemed dull, void of life.
"This is worse than I thought," sighed Byron as he let go of Magna's hand. Magna's hand brought the curtain down. "I guess the best thing for me to do is to leave you alone. I'm afraid you're beyond my help."
Byron sat Magna down in his chair, and fastened his straps. He stood up and looked Magna in the eye, but Magna had taken back to staring at the wall.
"Let me tell you what," he began. "You could probably use some food and some water. I'll go and get something for you, and be back as soon as I can, and then we'll see what we can do for you. And don't you worry, I promise I'll be back shortly," Byron picked up his clipboard and opened the door. "I promise." The door closed.
I wonder what what that was all about , Magna thought. Oh well, doesn't matter to me.
Something's wrong here. Something is definitely wrong here.
Those words kept repeating themselves over and over again in Magna's brain. Usually this didn't mean much, it wasn't anything big. However, this was different. Something hurt, and something hurt bad. It was inside him, sending pain all over his body, and he could no longer ignore it. He tried to block it out, he tried to convince himself that this pain did not matter, but it was too much for him to bear.
Something's wrong here. Something is definitely wrong here.
Byron had been gone for a long, long time. Magna figured that a day had passed since he had last seen Byron, who had said he was going to come right back with food and water. He never did come back. At first, it didn't really matter, it had just proven Magna's point. Byron was unreliable, just like everyone else. He was here, and soon he was gone, just like that. What's the point of getting used to something, getting all excitted about something if it was just going to be gone soon. The only constant that was always there was the wall, and it was always the wall and just the wall, and nothing else. Human beings could never be like that, the same with emotions. However, staring at the walls was not causing this pain to go away. Maybe Byron could help him, but he was not here. He had left, and had not come back. This was really starting to annoy Magna.
What's going on here? Something's wrong. This is....
Magna began to hum loudly, he wanted to drown out the sound of his own mind and just forget the pain. It does not matter , he tried to tell himself over and over again. It does not matter! Yet the pain increased, and the words something's wrong here, something is definitely wrong here kept repeating themselves, louder and louder. Magna's hum turned into a yell, as he began to struggle in his chair, desperately trying to get loose. Being tied down wasn't helping him at all, but if he was loose, he could maybe try to do something. He began shouting, and struggling to get loose. His legs broke out of the straps, and he stood, flinging the chair around wildly, and since his hands were still attachted, his body would follow. No matter what he did, the pain stayed and increased.
Finally, there was a moment of silence, as Magna lay in a heap, completely exhausted. That's when he noticed something: a noise. A grumble. A very loud grumble that echoed through his body, and after this, the pain would increase. Then there were more grumbles, shaking his body. He felt as if his body would come apart at the seems. He closed his eyes, he didn't move. He listened. The grumbling again: it was coming from him. It was coming from inside himself. It was like a bomb, exploding in him, sending shocks all over his body. What is this? he thought. Something's wrong. This is.... Silence. Nothing.... nothing..... nothing. Concentrate. The rumbling came again, and Magna could tell it was from his stomach. Then it all made sense. I haven't eaten for days, he thought it out. I haven't eaten for days, and you need food to live. You.... need.... food.... to.... live. Without food, I will die. With death.... comes pain. It all made sense. Byron had never returned, and he had never brought food. Magna started to grind his teeth, and he began to feel all hot and flushed. The grumbling came up again, and the pain ran all through his body. Magna winced, and his eyes began to water. Byron had never returned, and he had never brought food, and you need food to live. Magna's head began to throb, and he started to breath heavily. Then it struck him: He was angry.
"I AM ANGRY!!!!!!" Magna screamed as he came to a standing position. The veins in his neck were popping out, and his face was red. "I AM REALLY ANGRY!!!!!"
This came as quite a surprise to Magna, because it had been a long time since he felt that way. Actually, it had been a long time since he had really felt anything. He gotten so used to not thinking about anything, not feeling anything about anything, just existing. He stood in the middle of the room, and for the first time, he truly saw everything as it was: He completely believed they were going to kill him, but instead, they threw him in this room, tied up for days, with no food or water. Staring at the walls had got him no where, he was angry. They couldn't treat him like this, it needed to end right here and right now. He was angry. It felt.... good.
Magna smiled. "Yes, I'm angry!," he shouted. It was followed by a maniacal laugh that filled the room. " You can't just lock me up in here!" This was amazing. He had forgotten what it was like to feel emotion, he had become numb. He laughed. What was he doing all that time he was staring at walls? Nothing. He hadn't felt this alive for the longest time, and now he felt all this anger pumping through his veins. He began shouting and prancing around.
"Come on! Are you just going to leave me here to die?!"
Magna was starting to get worried. He had been carrying on for about five minutes, and no one had responded. This only made him angrier. They couldn't just lock him away and ignore him. He began to kick the door.
"What is going on here?! Why will nobody answer me?!!"
After a couple more failed attempts at kicking the door, Magna stood back. He surveyed the door. His stomach growled, sending a shock through his body. He crouched down, and charged the door. He made contact with his shoulder, and the impact sent him flying back across the room in a heap on the floor. He was dizzy, and pain ran through his body. Tears filled his eyes as his stomach grumbled again. He turned his blurry vision back to the door. It was open. Byron was standing in the doorway. He was smiling.
"Well, how are we today?" he asked politely.
" Were you just going to let me die of starvation in here?!"
"A bit testy are we?" Byron said teasingly.
"I demand to know what you're doing with me. What sort of game is this? How could you just leave me here?! You promised you'd return."
"Well," Byron said tilting his head. "I'm here now, aren't I?" His crooked grin returned.
"Listen, you, I want some food and I want it right now." Magna stared squarely into Byron's eyes. Byron looked in them as if he was searching for something.
"You know," Byron began. "You are a prisoner here. I don't have to give you a thing. In fact, consider yourself very lucky that you're still alive."
Magna laughed quietly. He shook his head, and looked to Byron with a smile. Byron returned that smile. The two stood there, chuckling for a few seconds. Magna's expression quickly turned. He gritted his teeth, and his eyes shot open wide. He charged Byron with the chair still tied to him. Byron never knew what hit him. Magna flung himself and the chair at Byron, knocking the two into the hallway, slamming up against the wall outside. Both the men lay there a moment in intense pain, Magna struggling to get back up with the chair still tied to him, and Byron still in shock from the blow. His glasses had been knocked off, and were now in pieces all over the floor. His vision was blurry, but his orientation soon returned.When Magna got back up, Byron kicked wildly, afraid Magna would attack him again. Byron hit him squarely in the chest, knocking him over backwards, chair and all. He slid back into the room. Byron leaped up, half-tripped, and landed on top of Magna. Instinctively, he started strangling him. Magna headbutted Byron, who rolled off him into a ball on the floor, pain shooting through his head. Magna got up and began to kick him wildly. He had lost control. It was only until the four guards rushed in that he had realized everything that just happened.
Two guards tackled Magna to the ground. One held him down, while the other began to punch him. First in the chest, then in the stomach. Magna began to weeze and cough, and he couldn't catch his breath. Pain spread out through his whole body. He closed his eyes tightly, so he couldn't see anything. His head began to throb, and he screamed out, but the guard kept hitting him. The world around him began to disappear, there was just a helplessness. He stopped struggling, and just laid there as the guards attacked him. There was nothing else he could do. He had brought this upon himself.
"STOP!!!!!"
The guards stopped. There was a moment of silence. Magna just lay there, quietly crying as he felt the cold floor underneath him.
"Get up off him."
"But...."
"NOW!!!!!"
There was another moment of silence. Magna could feel the pressure on top of him release as the guards stood up. He heard their footsteps as they walked away. He breathed in deeply, and decided to just lay there for a minute or two. He opened his eyes, and it took a moment to focus. He saw Byron leaning over him, and he soon realized that he was taking off the strapes to release him from the chair. Byron told the guards take the chair away, and they did, leaving the room. He helped Magna up, slowly to a standing position. He steadied him by putting Magna's arm around his shoulder.
"Listen, I"ll give you food, I'll give water, I'll give you anything you want, anything that you need," he said. "Just as along as you do one thing for me first."
Magna sighed, and looked at Byron. What could this guy possibly want from me? Magna closed his eyes, and nodded slightly.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Open the window." Byron walked Magna over to the window, and with all his strength, Magna pulled the cord to open the curtains. The two of them looked outside. "Now," Byron asked. "What do you see?"
"Metal. The whole world looks like it's made out of metal. There's no trees, no birds, no signs of nature anywhere, just metal. Buildings, streets, cars, signs, everything is metal."
"What else?"
"Fire. The sky is red, and there is fire everywhere. There is violence everywhere. People are dying on the street, of disease and poverty, and hunger. People are killing each other, and no one cares. People walk by people in need on the streets, but they just ignore them." Magna couldn't look anymore. It was all too much for him. This world that he saw began feeding the anger inside him, and it began to scare him. "What is this?"
"This.... ," Byron began. "This is progress."
Magna realized that he hadn't eaten, slept, showered or done much of anything for the past three days. So, during the next week, he was pampered. He was moved into a new, colorful room, with a huge bed, a bathroom, and on-call staff that would get him anything he wanted. He showered and shaved, and ate a lot, but mostly slept. He got the chance to meet many of the guards and doctors on call in the buidling he was in, and he ate dinner with them, and even participated in a basketball game. There was a movie theater, and a swimming pool. It seemed to Magna as if he had been moved into a five star hotel, and that he was some guest of honor. Byron came by to check on him every once in a while, but they never really talked about what had happened and how Magna had come to be there. One day, exactely a week since their fight, Byron brought Magna back into the white room.
"How are you?" he asked.
"I feel good. I feel very.... rested and relaxed."
"I'm very glad to here that."
"It's just that.... ," Magna looked puzzled. "I don't think that I quite understand everything.... "
"You remember this window?" Byron asked. Magna nodded. "This is the window to the future, to your future. Open it." Magna opened the window. "What do you see?"
"Well," Magna began as he looked at the world he saw through the window. "It's very.... simple. Very bright, very colorful."
"You see, when you opened the window the first time, what you saw was your future. However, it was only your future if you would have remained the way you were - void of feeling, void of life, bland, boring - exactely like the world you saw outside. If I had given you food, and not made you starve, you might've stayed that way for.... who knows, forever. Then, the second time you saw a violent, angry, metal, hard, rough, cruel world - exactely the way you felt, and that would have been your future if we had not fed you and given you a good place to eat, and brought you out of this room. And now, that you've rested and relaxed, and had a chance to feel good and healthy.... this is your future."
Magna smiled, and look out upon this world. It wasn't his paradise, but there was something about it, something very appealing about it. "It's very peaceful," Magna smiled and looked to Byron. "Do you think it will.... stay this way forever?"
"Oh," Byron smiled. "Well, that's for you to decide. You're going to have to do a lot of work to live in this future. You're going to have to take care of yourself, and others, and the world. I'm mean, you've just started. It's a lot of hard work. It's much easier not to care."
Magna nodded and smiled. "Thank you."
"For what?" "For this world. For this second chance."
"No," Byron smiled. "Don't thank me. Thank yourself, you did all the work." Magna looked at Byron, who began to walk away. "Besides, I don't even exist." He opened the door.
"What do you.... Are you leaving? Will I ever see you again?"
"You see," he said turning back. "I'll always be here. I'm part of you."
"You mean...."
"You did all this yourself. You.... just needed a little help to get started." Byron smiled. Magna looked at him, with a smile emerging on his face. "Like I said, I'm kind of like your fairy godmother. Just look inside yourself, and I'll be there." With that, he left the room.
However, Magna noticed that he was no longer in the room, that he was in the world that he saw through the window. He smiled.
Something's right about this, he thought. Something's very right about this.