Flashes, memories blasted through this newly created mind, head whipping, thrashing, violently. Smashing his head into the blunt, rubberized walls that trapped him. Why was he here? what had he done!!?? He couldn't remember his name! why were they treating him like a nuclear bomb?! He just wanted to get out of this fucking room!
The doctors claimed they'd found him in a small perfectly formed semi-circular crater of glass within the wards gardens.
He didn't remember.
They said he'd screamed, crying until his throat was raw and his voice unintelligable, about some horrific apocalypse. An entire empire destroyed before his eyes, billions killed, and the voices in his head crying, weeping at the loss of their "children".
The doctors had him placed in solitary observation. Apparently his screams weren't the only thing that had echoed across the mental hospitals grounds. The day had been so perfect, sunny, warm weather. But the moment he'd arrived almost gale force freezing winds had overtaken the small hospital and hadn't stopped in th three months he'd been there. He didn't know where. Someplace called england? outside london he'd heard. They spoke funny. Odd accents. Why did they only have one tone to their voices? Or was he the odd one. Doctor after doctor had asked him where he'd learned to utilize both his higher and lower vocal chords....
higher and lower? what were these fools talking about? Why did they ask him if he had trouble taking in oxygen? His skin was supposed to be blue !!....thats what the one voice, the one that overpowered all the others, told him. It guided him. Yes, it identified itself as sol...?Sol? like the star! yeah! Maybe he had the god of the sun guiding him!!
Regardless, this voice was the calmest, although not the kindest. He'd come to associate each voice with a color. The kindest voice felt green. He liked talking with green. He'd told him his name but it was difficult to remember. Most of the names were. Too complex. Sol, that was the only one he could remember.
Thanks to "Sol" he was able to gain the doctors trust enough and answer their questions satisfactorily, earning him the removal of the restraining jacket. Sol told him that if he'd really wanted it off he could have simply ripped it off, but it was wise, good, that he pretended to be normal. He was a good son. Whose son was he?
Pretended? "Sol, what do you mean pretend? im just like them....right?" All he'd gotten in reply was a chuckle. This was from red. Red scared him. Red was violent, he told him to do terrible things to the nurses. Red had almost made him shove a pen into one doctors throat. Sol and Green had stopped him, taken control and taken over his voice. It was frightening that they could control his body so easily. But comforted him when he was alone. They were his only friends now. These people inside him.
The doctors interviewed him, always strapped into a metal chair with what they said was the strongest possible restraints. "For your protection son, you have a habit of hurting yourself and becoming unstable. We know your a good person. You stopped yourself from stabbing Dr. Buxton rght? bad people don't do that. You just had something happen to you in your past that makes you behave this way. Your a perfectly healthy young man, we all understand."
So they said. He could feel it. They were afraid of him. He didn't need Sol, or green, or yellow or purple to tell him that. He'd more than once ripped their "strongest restraints" to ribbons without even trying. This strength scared him sometimes. But Sol, always wise and calm, told him it was his right, his heritage. He was "the last of their kind." whoever "their kind" was. He didn't care. He just wanted out of this shit hole, and if not for his deep seated desire not to hurt anyone, he'd have listened to red and just torn this place apart.
More memories, Sol, he looked just like him!! is this what ...."we" looked like?
He swore he could hear them all laugh before Sol answered. No....most weren't as pretty as me....but for the most part we all shared the glowing eyes.
He wasn't sure what they meant by glowing eyes, but he couldn't keep being called "patient 2034976". So he'd asked yellow green and Sol for names. Ultimately, it was green who came up with what he liked best. He got the feeling Green was the brains between all the voices.
He liked Ozy better. Easier to pronounce.
Now, he sat, head laying against the rubberized wall, forehead not even split open despite the brutal bashing he'd given it, waiting for the next doctors visit. It was almost becoming fun. Apparently, yusing his "higher and lower" vocal chords meant he spoke with two separate voices in unison, one deep and rumbling, the other higher and pleasent to the ears. and eerie mix, at least thats what the nurses said.