Sunday, April 8, 2012

The Brink Part 2

The Brink Part 2
                Titus continued to look out the window for the entire trip. His hot breath occasionally fogging up the window, he wiped it off with his sleeve. The man in the seat next to him was sleeping the entire time. The doctor told Titus that it would take twelve hours to reach the moon. From there it was another two hours by low flying transport to reach the Brink. Titus couldn’t wait, he was excited to be going to the best facility, I suppose in the universe, for mentally ill people.
                He thought about talking to new shrinks, having to tell them all the same crap again. He had a good childhood, he didn’t take any recreational drugs, but he does hit the bottle fairly hard. Even at that moment of thought he took a swig of his thermos of whisky that he happened to smuggle on. He continued to take drink after drink from his thermos until he felt the rocket spinning. He couldn’t tell if that was the alcohol or if the rocket was actually spinning. He then passed out.
                Titus woke up to Dr. Mars standing over him. “We’re here!” Titus stood up and quickly noticed the reduced presence of gravity. “You’ll need this oxygen mask. It might be difficult to breathe without it. We still haven’t come up with creating a breathable atmosphere. One of the moon’s challenges, but we’ll figure it out.” Said the doctor.
                The first few steps that Titus took were exaggerated and clumsy, he was still drunk. He made his way to the elevator. Other’s boarded into it and soon Titus was surrounded by the chattering, yet silent, masses.
                He couldn’t get off the elevator fast enough. He tripped over his own feet and soon floated to the ground. Dr. Mars helped him up. “You haven’t been drinking have you? I’m just joking around, everyone has trouble their first time. Just pretend you’re a baby and taking your first steps. It’s ok to fall down.” Titus looked around, surveying the moon’s rocky terrain. It was just about how he pictured it, full of craters. There were no clouds, the sky was black, but sunlight still penetrated.
                The transport flew in and landed near the rocket. The patients boarded in, slowly making their way up the steps. Once again Titus had a window seat. The ride was pretty smooth, the transport stayed pretty low to the ground. During the trip an argument between two guys broke out. They were yelling then shoving. One of them tried to punch the other but his fist fell slowly, causing no damage. This act of violence scared Titus. He’s never been in a fight, or even seen one. He trembled in his seat and fought back tears. Dr. Mars came over to him: “sometimes that happens, Titus, people fight. A lot of our patients are volatile and aggressive. They mis-hear something or perceive something that isn’t true. I guess I’m used to the violence, I see it every day. But we’ll fix it. The patients are always raw when they first come in.”
                Titus soon felt better. He reasoned it out in his head, these people are just sick, they need help. He looked to one of the aggressive men and heard something: “you aren’t so tough; I’ll get you before you know it.” This happened just like in the elevator. He heard people talking even though their lips weren’t moving. It must just be the paranoid portion of his disease, but it didn’t seem like the man was talking to Titus. Maybe the doctor will be able to figure it out.      

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