Jessica came back everyday, wishing me well, saying always, "Please stay. I'm so glad you're back."
The days I couldn't remember haunted me. I felt as if my dreams were like memories calling from that past time. I needed to answer the call, not only to satisfy a basic curiosity, but because I need to understand how I got here. And why Jessica kept saying she was glad I was back. Where did I go?
She visited one Saturday, "I'm so happy now that you're back with us."
"Back from where?" I said. Curiousity eating at me hungrily.
"Your cement ocean missions. Your buttercup trips with the BSA." She looked through me, then away.
"The BSA?" The letters familiar to my tongue, but not to my mind, not now, I don't think.
"You never explained, it was some agency. You said a product of your chemical hallucinations. You would sit and write in your notebooks, making me read them. And often, I couldn't. Your writing too messed up. You'd leave, or drag me out with you. Sometimes you'd be gone for days. I have to go."
And with worthless remainder of conversation, she left.
When the door behind her closed, I beheld a strange flashback, felt like it was from another world. Two soggy cornflakes coated with silver sugar rolled about the floor and couch of an apartment. I think my apartment, it felt like home. A man with binoculars for eyes stared in the window. He said "Why do you build me up, buttercup baby just to let me down?" A halls coughdrop rolled into the room, opened up, a t.v. emerged. It clicked on, Charles Manson appeared in front of a sign reading 'DQ hotdogs.'
He said, "Cries for help won't save anyone." he paused. "I killed because of anger. Anger and jealousy.. Just as Hitler, I wasn't accepted as an artist, now.. families of my victims make money by selling my records. And they sell well.. In the end I got what I wanted." Click.
And I returned to the hospital. Now I had to try to decipher this dream. I had too much locked inside my head that wasn't coming out enough for me to understand it. Time was running out. I can't quite explain it, but I felt as though a deadline was creeping up on me. I needed out of this hospital. How can fight a disease without blood? Nurses keep stealing my blood and replacing it with an
