Controlled Scribbling

Adam

Adam had been in 'The Ward' for a little more than three months. There was no way for him to know exactly how long he had been there or what time of day it might be. At first he tried to keep track, at first he had hope of getting out. Adam spent most of his time lying on an old, two-inch mattress that was pushed into the corner of his barren room. The room was roughly ten feet by ten feet with a low ceiling. The walls and ceiling were painted white, but they were old and tainted by their age. The floor was covered with white tiles that were clean but also showed their age. A lightbulb hung from a short wire in the center of the ceiling - it was dim but always on. One wall had a small hole in it where they would talk to him from time to time. And the wall opposite had a ten-inch slit at floor level that was just high enough for them to slide a tray of food through.

Adam could not initiate a conversation or request food. The people who placed him here fed him and spoke to him only when they decided it was time.

For the first several days, Adam would argue with them and demanded he had rights. Adam writhed around in rage screaming and pounding on the walls and floor. They did not respond to his outbursts.

Ten, maybe eleven, days had passed since anyone had spoken to Adam. The only sounds he heard were sounds he made himself. The low, calm voice that came from the hole in the wall came slowly, "Adam, how are you feeling?" Adam stared at the hole for a moment. He began to speak, only to find his throat too dry to make his voice audible. Adam coughed and choked to clear his throat so he could respond to the voice before it went away. "I am fine." It felt strange talking, it seemed so long since he had spoken out loud, so long since he had heard another person's voice. Adam talked to himself out loud for the first few weeks but now only talked to himself inside his head. It was always so quiet. Nothing ever changed. The voice continued steadily, "Adam, do you want to talk about it? Do you want to tell me who else knows about it?" Adam shook in terror as a chill tightened his body, "What?" He wasn't sure he could remember. Something was wrong. There were some things he could not tell them but other things he could. There was such a definite difference at first, nothing they could do would make him tell them. But now it was so long. Adam wanted to talk, he wanted to talk to anyone about anything, but what was it he couldn't say? Adam moved closer to the hole and sat on the cool tiles a few feet away from the wall. "I want to talk..." he began. Adam paused and tried to make sense of his thoughts. He turned his head from the hole and muttered, "I can't," then slowly moved back to the mattress and curled up in the corner very disturbed and very frightened. The voice never responded to Adam and the silence hung over Adam like a dark fog.

Hours passed.

Adam began to question whether he heard a voice at all. Why not tell them and what exactly do they want to know? He lay curled up repeating his name in his head. So much time had passed without hearing it. He did not feel like he was "Adam," it did not fit. Adam felt he no longer had or needed a name.

Time passed and the food seemed to come less frequently. There was no way to tell. The hours and days blurred together and Adam spent most of his time lying in the corner staring at the ceiling. He had thought about everything for so long. Nothing ever changed; nothing ever happened. One thought led to another until finally there were no more thoughts to have. More days passed, maybe weeks. Adam began to have hallucinations. Some were disturbing, others amusing. It became almost impossible for him to know whether he was awake or sleeping.

Days passed.

"Adam, are you there?"

The voice from the hole.

Adam was very excited, he rushed to the hole and fell to his knees in front of it. Adam nodded repeatedly and grinned.

"Adam, are you there?" the voice repeated.

"Yes. Here I am, I am here I am." Adam's voice amused him and he continued changing his tone and volume. "Here I am, I am here I am, am I here I am, am here I I am." Adam started giggling too much to continue. He stared at the hole.

The voice continued steadily. "Adam, do you want to talk about it? Do you want to tell me who else knows about it?"

"I can tell you. I know I am here I am. Know you want to I can tell you..." Adam had lost his ability to form sentences properly. He knew he wasn't correct but didn't know what to do about it. He wanted to talk.

"Tell me what is on your mind, Adam."

"My mind is on and you want to know it."

"Tell me what is on your mind, Adam."

"There was three of us three. We all know you want to know on mind is on. We know what you are doing you are we have organization too."

The voice continued to lead Adam along until everything Adam fought so hard to keep from them was told.

"Thank you Adam, you've been a great help. Good-bye."

A cool draft came from the hole where the voice came from. It slowly filled the room.

Moments passed.

A darkly dressed man removed Adam's dead body from the room.