Home Residence
Looking at his reflection in the glass window Peter was mumbling to himself; it's not possible that I'm going to be your age this year, it's just not right, I can't be older than you, I thought it would end much sooner. Looking out to the street his thoughts were distracted by a mime at the corner, this was where he would usually perform at this hour, he acted as if he was trapped in an invisible box. People would pass by him; either not noticing him or ignoring him, most of them seemed to be in a great hurry. But Peter watched him intensely from his window, he studied his face, the features were perfectly done, his make up, without a crack, only a big smile forever frozen in time like a painting stood out among all those tired bothered people.
Peter was in the habit of conversing to spirits of those who were gone. He kept them as shadows in his life, he wasn't much for talking with people though, he was morbidly shy, after all, being shattered the way he was he couldn't really face anyone. Friendships with such spirits were not commonly known, Peter was aware of that, however, in his case they had a strong presence. They were mostly those who passed while still young, in particularly one spirit of a man (not even, a boy actually) he passed long ago when Peter was still a child himself, he was no more than a memory of someone he didn't necessarily meet but grow attached to nonetheless.
It was 13:00 a clock and the doctor came in to the room, as he did every day, Peter was still looking out of the window, he could stand like that for hours, examining the faces of the people he would see walk by then examining his own in the window (he wasn't allowed a mirror). How have you been? Have you been given any thought to what we talked about last time? Peter turned around but kept avoiding the doctor's look, he remained quiet. You know this isn't doing you any good, I feel you are resisting the treatment. The doctor was holding a clipboard and on his notes it said: severe case of merged identities and classic regression. Peter looked at the doctor's face; there were lines going down from his eyes along his cheeks and around the mouth, the skin was sagging and his eyes seemed to have sunk in to his head, they were a grey color. When he reached to grab a pan from his coat packet Peter could see there were spots on his hands and arms and the few hairs left on them were white. Peter felt embarrassed for seen the doctor like this, he apologized although the doctor believed he was referring to the remarks he had just made. Good, said the doctor, it's important that you take responsibility for your behavior. Peter seemed detached from the conversation but it went unnoticed by the doctor.
Well the first step you must take is to stop acknowledging your absent companions (that's how the doctor referred to the spiritual characters in Peter's life) especially O, your dependence on him is far too great and it is having a distractive affect on you, we have discussed this over and over again. That is my assessment of the situation, now I believe getting out of the residence for a little while will help your progress, so I'm recommending you go out today. The doctor filled the prescription and left the room, his mind preoccupied with all the other patients he had to see to and their troubles he needed to cure. After he left two orderlies came in to Peter's room; they were both big and viral men wearing blue uniform, they carried Peter to the front entrance, they were having a conversation among themselves about nothing in particular as they were performing their duty. Standing outside peter observed the residence building, it was an old building, not very big at all, the paint, a faded brown, was cheeping at the sides, the windows were murky and rust was running down from the metal frames on to the walls turning the cracks more noticeable, the gutters were leaky and full of muck, most of the roofing tiles were long gone, making the building look like it had missed placed its top, finally at the center of it stood a plain grey door making no fuss. All in all it was an ugly structure without even the simple charm owned by some old buildings.
Peter was quite glad to get away from the residence, as he walked about town he tried to remember how he came to be here. He wasn't born here he knew that, no, where he came from was very different from this place; everything here moves a lot faster, back there life had a slower pace. Here everything is paved and anything old gets replaced, where he came from people had expressions, since he came to this town he hasn't seen any expressions on people's faces and they often crowded together, they made noises that bothered Peter and they almost never looked back. Besides, Peter knew that the country he came from had been destroyed, even though he wasn't there at the time. He heard that one day the people were forced to leave and everything was demolished and taken over by plastic features meant to last a very long time. He figured he must have come a long way to get here and he tried to recall what for; whether it was to find something he was looking for or to get treated so he could get better.
Walking around town, Peter didn't notice that the people were avoiding him, they weren't normally hospitable to strangers. They particularly despised those who lived in the residence. Most of the people of the residence weren't allowed out, this was because they were thought of as disorderly and possibly infectious to others, if they did come out it was usually with supervision. The rules were applied a little different with regard to Peter because he didn't belong to the town, he stood outside their customs. Peter wondered a bit around the streets, he seemed misplaced in those surrounding, his look was disheveled and his clothes were a little raggedy, not like the elegant appearance of the town's people. People were passing him by, walking with purpose toward something, disappearing behind walls and around corners before Peter could recognize them. He walked the straight lines of the pavement staring down at the ground, the road was marked with signs and symbols he didn't know the meaning off. He saw other pedestrians following the signs, their movement seemed synchronized, like a dance but when Peter would try to join in it would suddenly break apart as if it was only imagined.
The houses in the town were like the one's painted in children's drawings; they were small, each had a little yard and you could see curtains in the windows and sometimes even flowers and plants blossoming in pretty colors. Peter wanted to enter into one of these houses, just to look at the lovely garden which had sunflowers in it but he couldn't open the gate. Peter saw a man loitering about, he was going round the back of the house, Peter hoped he might be the owner of the house and that maybe he would let him into the garden. Following the man he saw he wasn't going in to the house, he was circling it. Peter was curios as to what he was doing so he kept after the man which didn't seem to mind Peter joining him so Peter felt it will be O.K if he asked the man a few questions.
Who are you? Said Peter, when the man finally stood still for a moment. I'm a robber said the man. Peter was surprised by this answer, he didn't seem like a robber to him. He was a small man, middle aged, he was wearing a suit and he looked a bit frazzled. He reminded Peter more of a salesman then a robber. Have you been robbing houses for long? Asked Peter. All my life, said the man, he was so busy with his planning he hadn't once looked at Peter yet. Have you stolen many things from the houses you robe? Peter wondered. Not a one, said the robber, these houses are all full of knickknacks and useless junk, he was becoming annoyed by the distraction. Do you think you will find something valuable in this house? I know I won't, but I've been trying to break into this house for days now and haven't succeeded, tonight I must find a way in. the robber seemed determined and as he talked he kept on vigorously making his plan, looking around, checking things out, taking notes. There must be something really worth while in there if you're going through all this trouble, said Peter. No, the robber said, it's just like all the other houses. Then way is it so important? Peter asked. I'm a robber, I must do my job, if I fail I will be dismissed. Just as they were talking a woman open a window in the house, she had fair hair and she was wearing an apron, she took a quick look at the two men standing outside her house, she seemed to recognize the robber but she didn't seemed bothered by him, she turned around and went back to her chores. The window was left open and from where Peter was standing he could see a picture of a family gathered around the diner table, smiling and enjoying themselves. He wondered if the robber was going to steal that picture but he didn't ask him, the robber had moved away from him and was now busy trying to clime the fence, Peter didn't want to disturb him.
By now it was getting late, Peter knew the authorities will be looking for him to bring him back to the residence but he didn't want to go back quite yet. Instead of going back he went in to a small pharmacy shop he saw was open, he thought he might be able to hide in there for a while. Inside the shop there was a strong smell; a combination of disinfectant and sweet perfume. There were so many medicines bottles and pills on the shelves, none of them were labeled, Peter wondered how can anyone tell what is what. A thin man with thinning red hair wearing a white and red jacket and little round glasses was walking around organizing things and stocking the shelves. Peter approached him and asked him how he could tell the medicine apart with no labels. Oh, said the man I keep everything in order, I have a system, for example, I keep the cough syrup next to the heart medicine, and the mood elevators next to the pills for indigestion. And you never get them mix-up? Asked Peter, I know what the people need even if it's not what they asked for, I have many customers. In fact I have something for you, the pharmacist gave Peter a few little pills, these will get rid of the symptoms. Peter was a bit suspicious of the pharmacist, he wondered what he knew about him? Is it possible he knew what was wrong with him? Maybe the doctors talked to him? Before he could have the chance to ask him the meaning of it another customer came in and the pharmacist went to attend to her. Peter couldn't tell what was wrong with her, she looked healthy to Peter, but the pharmacist immediately grabbed a bunch of pills and ointments and gave them to her; she was very grateful to him and kept thanking him while he quietly reassured her. Peter took the pills and put them in his coat pocket as he was leaving the shop. Outside two men in dark uniforms were waiting for him, they were the authorities coming to pick him up. He didn't put up any resistance, they simple returned him back to the residence.
Back in his room Peter was very tired but unable to sleep he set on the edge of his bed trying to picture O beside him as he was thinking about the day he had. It was getting harder to see his face, all of them, they were slipping from him. They stopped showing up anywhere else expect in his room when he was alone. Peter was much disturbed by this, at lest he thought he out to be, but he spent the whole day not even noticing they were gone, it was only when he returned to his room that he realized it all of a sudden. He didn't miss them today, tomorrow he may not even remember they were ever there. Then Peter began thinking about the pills he was given, he wondered if they could really help him? He wasn't sure he wanted to fight anymore. Maybe he will be better off; he will no longer be odd, different, sick. Could there be a cure for me? Do you think its possible O? If they drove you away would anything be left of me? I can't recall what I was before you, if at all. Where would you go O if I let them send you away? Peter was a little startled when a nurse came in to his room; she was young and quite beautiful, she had blond hair and bright green eyes, fresh rosy skin and a soft joyful look to her face. She was new and Peter thought he liked her as soon as she walked in. I saw the light was on so I came in to see if there is something you need? She asked. Peter was still a little surprised by her sudden appearance in his room he couldn't quite get the words out, he stared at her without saying anything but she didn't seem to mind, she simple went on to introduce herself; her name was Anna, she said, she only just started working there today. There was a kind of pleasantness to her voice, she moved around the room tidying up as she kept on talking. I already met some of the others living her but you seem different. I'm not from her, said Peter. Oh, yes that would explain it, I myself am not from here either, I grow up on the outside of this town, my family and I lived in a little house that was very much isolated, my father was a salesman he would travel to the neighboring towns and would be gone for long periods of time, it got pretty lonely sometimes all we had was each other. I guess it's why I came here I wanted to work with people, to be surrounded by them and take care of them. Putting Peter coat away she discovered the pills. She took the pills in her hand looked at them for a moment without saying anything and then left the room taking them with her, never saying another thing.
At first Peter was a bit thrown by the unexpected meeting but he soon regained himself, he got up and followed Anna out to the corridor. She was already gone and he wasn't sure which way she went, he decided to search for her. He felt he had to find her again but was it because he wanted the pills back or was it because he felt this attraction to her which was completely new to him, he didn't know.
The corridor of the residence weren't a very lively place; they were narrow, brightly lit with a strong yellow light, the walls were covered with faded yellow wallpaper with little pink flowers on it that was pilling off at places, most of it was already ruined by water damage, the floor was covered with a red carpet with a white and browed pattern that was covered with old and new stains. An orderly came down the corridor toward Peter, he was pushing a cart loaded with linens along with syringes and bandages. The orderly wouldn't see Peter, his star was fixed to the front, his silver gaze ever frozen. He had short dark hair, his face was stitched up together, he was big and looked menacing in his white uniforms. Peter kept out of his way, pressing himself against the wall to let him through, he walked on by without any acknowledgement of Peter standing there. Peter went on looking for Anna, the doors to the rooms, big brown wooden doors, were all closed. Peter could hear moaning but he couldn't tell where they were coming from, it almost seemed as though they were coming from behind every door he passed. He came to the end of one corridor and was about to turn to another when he noticed a door that was slightly open.
He pushed the door a little and peeked in hoping he would find Anna there, instead there was an old lady sitting in front of a mirror, even though see was old Peter thought she must have been very pretty once. She saw his reflection in the mirror and invited him to come in, she was very pleasant and had a kind smile, what a handsome young men you are, said the old woman without ever turning to face Peter but kept on looking into the mirror. I'm looking for a nurse, her name is Anna, have you seen her? Oh, no dear, I don't think so, but I wouldn't be able to tell you even if I did, you see, these pesky nurses keep coming in and out of my room all day and my eye sight is not so good anymore, I really can't tell them apart but I wish they will stop coming in here and rearranging everything, just look at the mess they made of my beautiful mirror. The mirror had on it colorful drawings that seemed like a chilled painting. Did the nurses do that? Asked peter. Yes said the old lady, they were trying to paint my face but I wouldn't have it. Peter was distracted by the sound of the moaning, the same as that he heard before, he still couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Do you hear that? Peter asked the old lady. Hear what dear? She answered. That moaning, where is it coming from? I don't hear it but it's probably this house I've been here to long, I hardly notice anymore, it makes a rumble when its rest is disturbed. Peter nodded. The window at the old woman's room was open he could see the view from it was different than the one from his room; from there you could see the whole town, it spread as far as the eye could see, Peter thought it had grown much since he came there. From a distance you could hear the sound of church bells, it wasn't a cheerful sound but the kind symbolizing mourning.
Back at the corridor Peter thought he saw O but he wasn't sure, the image he saw looked strange, barely visible, it seemed to bland in with the background. Peter walked toward the place the image was standing but by the time he got there it was gone, he said to himself it was just as well; right now it was Anna he wanted to find. But now he was in a completely unfamiliar part of the residence; the walls had no wallpaper on them, they were made of dark wood, the carpet, which you could tell use to be a different color, was a filthy shade of gray, the light there was a very bright white and the air was very stuffy since there were no windows there. Peter didn't want to stay there but then, at the end of the corridor, he saw a man dressed in a black suit, he was facing the wall. Sir, could you maybe help me? Peter asked, I don't know this place, I never been here before and I'm not sure how to get back to my room from here. I was looking for something and somehow I ended up here, what is this place? The man turned around, his brown eyes not looking at Peter but nervously looking in every direction, there was sweat on his forehead. He grabbed hold of Peter's arm very tightly and said; son, you can't go back, no one leaves here, not the way they came, he sounded hysteric and his voice hoarse, Peter tried to get away but the man wouldn't let go of his arm. Who are you? Peter asked, what are you doing here? I used to be the mayor of this town, it must have been a while ago now, I used to give the orders, even the one for building this place. They don't know I failed so now I keep on guard, I'll be ready when they come, they all want to come here. Why, why do they want to come here? Peter wondered, noticing that the man was not as agitated as before. They're coming because they know we don't belong here, not anymore. You know it yourself; you felt it, the need to leave. The man seemed to want to tell Peter something else, important but just then someone grabbed Peter and polled him away from the mayor, Peter thought he heard him say "get out". He couldn't see who it was at first because of the bright lights but when he was back in the old familiar corridor next to his room he could see it was Anna that rescued him. You shouldn't wonder off, she said with a telling voice but then immediately, she smiled.
Back in his room, Peter finally gathered himself again. I was looking for you, he said turning to face Anna, who was standing at the door. Really? She asked, what for? You took something of mine, before, from my coat packet. I did, she replayed plainly, the residents are not allowed to interfere in their course of treatment, you know that. You must let the doctors find your cure. I've been here a long time, I'm not sure it's what I want anymore, if I ever did, he answered. Nonsense, she said, if you get better you can stay here with me, isn't that what you want? She came nearer to him putting her hand on his shoulder, her touch was warm. In the moment it seemed like all of Peter's doubts had disappeared, he was less nervous. But when next he was alone in the room again he felt weak, even though there was a sense of relief in him when she took the pills, he knew if he could at lest have O with him he wouldn't be so afraid. To stay here? He never thought he would be capable, she wants him to go on but would she be able to face him when he had completely collapsed? He was struggling to make sense of all these feelings pulling him in different directions but he couldn't settle himself. He felt it twisting him inside, he was sweating and shaking. What if it was already to late and she made it impossible for him to leave?
When he finally lied down to rest his sleep was interrupted, he kept remembering the past. He was once young, that's when he first started talking to his spirits. And they were his, they weren't known to no one else. They were constantly surrounding him, talking non stop, playing around with him, it was almost to much sometimes. But he knew even they couldn't prevent it from happening to him, one day he would have to transform like the rest off them, he didn't want to, when they transformed they became hideous, first outside then inside, not always immediately, still he was sure it will soon be him. That's why he gravitated towards the spirits, they will never transform, their absent, eternal. At the beginning they were a comfort, it was only later that he became envious of them, he couldn't stop what had happened to him, and he couldn't join them either. He was wasted, so the people began to avoid him until he had to leave. In his home no one understood that he was sick they only thought he was ridicules, it's why he was happy when he came across this town, they know he was sick and they promised they will try and cure him. Peter figured even if the treatment didn't take at lest here he could be comfortable. And he was for a while; they would come up with different kinds of treatments and he will follow them, they never worked, then the doctors would hold a little conference in his room; they would say this and that and the opposite, conclude it was never meant to work and try something new the next time. So it was until not long ago, lately though, Peter started noticing he changed. The spirits, for example, they weren't all gone but they weren't there as much as they used to be, and he wasn't fighting to keep them. He always thought he wouldn't let them go no matter what, even after he came to the residence he never allowed any of the treatments to separate him from O or even any of the others. He thought it would make him sad, not having them with him anymore, that was what he told himself but now he wasn't sure that was how he really felt, it seemed like it just ended; they went away and he existed like before, there was enough in him to hold him up without them. There was no doctors treatment involved in this, although they will definitely explain it that way, he was transforming. He realized that suddenly at one moment or another, he didn't try to see what it looked like but it didn't feel as bad as he feared it will. Things just became settled for him, he didn't suffer from so many upsets as before, he was accepting it all better now. It wasn't how he hoped it will be, still the adjustment happened quite naturally and it began to feel right.
When he opened his eyes O was there, not saying anything, he didn't need to, just being there always reassured Peter. He wondered what it will be like if one day O wasn't there anymore. His doctors told him O wanted to leave and they offered to do an operation to unwrap them. Can I go now O? Can you let me go? Is it possible for me to live here with her? As if I was new and fresh, and never carried you with me all this time. O didn't respond, he wasn't meant for that, Peter wouldn't hear him but he filled him some how, so he was always charged with O's being. He didn't know how much of him was taken over by O and the others over the years, but he was sure he wouldn't become like everyone else, even if lately he was starting to resemble them. The days were now so busy for him, at times too busy to remember, to stop and dwell of the moments that mentioned O. He didn't mean to forget but his head was filled with her, he felt healthy! And all those old moments were fading away, softly letting go.
When he got up in the morning he felt very light, he went out and he was almost able to dance the walking patterns of the town. He balanced well around the crowed, some even greeted him hello. He got on one of the town's carriages that were circling the streets. It was noisy with chatter, people were getting on and off it in a great commotion, they were all in a hurry. Peter sat at the back where he wasn't in the way, next to him was sitting an elderly man who was reading intensely in a book. The man seemed peaceful and uninterrupted by the going on around him, he was very invested in his reading; his lips were moving and he never once raised his eyes from the pages. Peter was curious about the man and the book he was reading; I'm sorry Sir but you seem to be so fascinated by that book, why is that? The man seemed surprised for a moment but then he said; don't you some times find comfort in words? I never tried said Peter. Why did you come to this town? The old man wondered. I came here on a journey in search of a cure to make me better, Peter answered. And have these people given you a cure? The man asked. Peter looked puzzled, at the moment he wasn't quite sure of the answer to that question, he started thinking about the long road his been through and suddenly he felt really tired, finally he told the man they were still experimenting with a few things, something may still come along that will work, either way this was the only place that offered any help, here they knew the most about his illness. They've been trying to come up with a solution for years now, the man said, they have been trying all this time and they are still no closer than they were when they started. It's why I've quit; I found out their advertisement is fake, now I read my book instead. So you were looking for the cure too? Peter was exited. Once, yes, I tried until I was too tired, I run out of time, you see it will always couth up with you, that's the problem, you can't bit it,. Maybe it will work for me? Peter insisted, it could, they've been making a lot of progress. No they didn't, the man disagreed, they remodeled, brought in new equipment, it looks nicer now but it isn't any better. The old man saw how his words disappointed Peter, he closed his book for a moment and looked at Peter, he understood his anguish he wished him to find the solace he had found so he can finally be free of his chases and journeys foraging for cures. You remain in restless mode like all of them here because you are afraid to be motionless, but there is more than one way of being motionless, you must see the truth of the story in order to stand still among the mad rash, there is no trick to it, just the reality of being. So you think I can hold on to what I am? Peter asked the man. I can't say, but I'll give you this book I believe in, perhaps it can strengthen you. Wouldn't you miss it? Peter asked. No, it thought me all it had to, I will pray for you he said and closed his eyes and leaned back. Peter took the old man's book, he put it in his coat packet as he was getting of the carriage.
Walking back to the residence he kept feeling the book and the pills in his coat packet. He was thinking about the things the man said to him as he happen to see one of the many posters hanging all about the town promising the perfect cure to anyone in need (and even those who didn't), he became unsure about a lot in his life. He thought coming to this town will help him finally settle his uncertainties, but maybe the man was right, they weren't really helping him here, they only promised improvements but they didn't know any better then him. He was headed back but all he really wanted was to see Anna and no one else. He never realized how fast he was walking, before he knew it he was in his room, the door was left open and he could look out into the corridors at all that was happening. Little doctors were running back and forth caring different instruments, they resembled ants; moving around always with a measure of fear. He didn't see Anna, he hoped to see her passing by his room. O was still present, none of the doctor's experiments and treatments changed that, they said it was because Peter wasn't fully cooperating and maybe that was true, but Peter was beginning to believe it was better this way, if he could, he intended to stay the same (like the old man, he didn't change, not the way they wanted him to, it was almost as if he was able to go back).
He was looking outside the window, through the rusty barras, he never much notice them before, he always felt comfortable in that room but since he came back he couldn't relax, he sensed that he was being held in. Even O and the others were a persistent distraction, no matter what he did, he was very unquiet. He couldn't tell how long he had spent there but he still hasn't seen Anna, he was anxious to share with her all that went on. He left his room and search for someone who can tell him where was Anna, he saw a nurse sitting on a chair near one of the doors in the corridor so he went up to her to ask her. He stood by her and observed her for a moment, she was a big fleshy woman with dark hair and a round face, her looks were very severe. Peter was a little hesitant but he managed to ask the nurse were Anna was? She said Anna went back home, she wasn't a good fit for them so she was sent away, the nurse got up, she took the chair and went into the room behind her. Peter slowly turned around and went back in to his room, he was deep in thoughts about the news he had just received. He was alone, the doctors hardly ever came into his room anymore, not unless they needed to take something out of his room; it was almost empty now except for Peter himself. He was glad to be left alone now and let them move to other more interesting residents.
No one really notice when Peter walked out of the residence, he didn't think they will try and stop him, since he ended the treatments they no longer cared for him there. He spoke to no one and he didn't take much with him, less than what he had with him when he came into town, only some pills and a book. He came to Anna's home after a few days of traveling but he didn't find her there, he stepped inside and waited.
Jennifer says:
There is a good premise behind this story, but the writing doesn't bear it out yet. Aside from the grammar mistakes that make reading your story difficult, you aren't making your meaning clear. I don't understand who these spirits are, why they are attached to Peter, and why he is having trouble letting them go. I don't understand the significance of "O". I'm not sure if you are making a point about the state of modern medicine, or about society in general. It's one thing to make your reader ponder about your story; it's another to leave him hopelessly confused.
Plot - 17
Characters - 16
Mechanics - 15
Enjoyment - 16
TOTAL - 63
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