Asylum ((Finished) Story) Parts 1-3 -- (Author) dogboy

[llsadmin]

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: dogboy
Timestamp: Oct 27, 2020 at 6:30 PM
Content: Asylum (Finished Story) Part 1

dogboy
This story started out as a prompt from a creative writing course. The prompt is as follows.

Write about two people who grow up together, eventually part ways, move to different sides of the country, but live the exact same life, do the same thing at the exact same time, including eating and going to the bathroom, marry people with the same name, but live on opposite sides of the country. They have the same name, look identical to one another, have identical looking kids who they give the same name, etc. One day they meet. What happens?
I thought it could become a good Halloween story for ADISC so here it is.

There was screaming coming from the small enclosed room, screaming and swearing. It was a woman and what she was saying would make a sailor blush. The light from the overhead fixture was torturing her, just as everything was torture. All she could do was scream and hope to hell that whatever had crawled up inside her would soon get the hell on out. She could hear the woman in the next room doing the same thing: screaming in agony.

She pleaded for mercy, anything to stop the pain and all she got in response was, “Push honey. Take deep breaths and push.”

Between the breaths and the agony, she managed to get out, “Get me some bitch who can help!”

The nurse turned on her heal and muttered, “Okay sister, just remember you asked for this.”

The same thing was happening in the next room, only a corrugated divider away; no real privacy at all. There was nothing personal in this, except for her husband who didn’t know what to do other than to continue making ridiculous breathing noises, encouraging his wife.

“Oh Tad,” she implored her husband. I’ve got to have something for this pain.” Her eyes said it all, pleading, desperately seeking help. He went out into the hall, frantic, looking for: who? And then he saw her, the straight backed nurse who looked like she was all business. She was carrying an IV bag and that’s what really caught his attention. It seemed to be glowing fluorescent lime green.

“Oh nurse,” but she walked right past him and abruptly turned into the adjoining cubicle, the other expectant mother.

“Here, this will help,” is all she said, but it was how she said it, so cold. As soon as the green liquid passed through the IV line and into the accepting vein, the screaming stopped replaced by a sudden look of surprise.

“Ah miss, I mean nurse, can you help my wife,” was all Tad could stammer out.

“Oh this is a good day, two in one, right next to each other, bed A and bed B, Abigail and Betty, like it was meant to be. Yes, I can help,” and with that she left, soon to return with another fluorescent lime green bag.

“Abby, this nurse can help,” he started to say but by then, the bag was in place, the green liquid running through the line and relief well on its way.

“Well this is your lucky day,” she said. “It’s both your lucky day. We’ll have to do some follow up procedures as this is something new we’re trying.”

“You mean the green stuff?” Tad suddenly wasn’t as sure of himself. A few minutes ago he would have done anything to help his wife, but what was in the IV bag? It occurred to him that maybe he should have asked but all questions were going to wait because the baby was coming now. The same thing was happening on the other side of the curtain.

There was a lot of scurrying. Pans were clanking from the instruments being thrown into them and then suddenly, the sound of the sharp crack followed by infant crying. Whatever had crawled in had escaped into the light. Two new lives had arrived, pink flesh covered in blood and glowing green. At least that’s what each mother thought. Panicked they tried to get someone’s attention but as soon as they spoke, said, “Look at my son,” the green luminescence was gone just like the empty IV bag. They thought they must have imagined it, pain playing games with reality. Both mothers looked into their child’s face, holding them for the first time, pain replaced with joy, each baby beginning to laugh, both rooms, both beds, both babies laughing in time with each other, laughing and laughing.

“Is that normal,” asked Betty? She could hear the child in the next cubicle. “Where is that nurse?”

“Right here honey. I’m nurse Florence.” She was still standing tall and rigid, but she seemed warmer, friendlier. “Let me take that child and we’ll get him and you cleaned up. Then we’ll have a little chat.”

Once outside the room, nurse Florence abruptly handed the child to another staff member and ducked into cubicle A where she had a similar conversation with Abigail. She noted that Abigail asked more questions as did her husband. For now she would be evasive. Being calm and reassuring redirected the questions to something more manageable, but soon she would have to draw them into the study where she and her superiors could study both the parents and their unusual offspring for a long, long time. There would be papers to be signed and meetings to attend, and both children would be enrolled into a special school for the very gifted.

“So my kid’s going to be a genius?” asked Betty. “What do you think about that, Nelson? Our kid’s going to be smart,” but Nelson just grunted. He wanted to go home and watch a game accompanied by several beers. Abby and Tad were a lot more inquisitive.

“I thought you were just giving me something for the pain. You didn’t say anything about changing my child?”

“Oh honey,” Florence cajoled. “You were in too much pain to go into a lot of detail, and being a little smarter is just a nice side affect.

“I guess,” said Tad, but he shared the same concerns as his wife.

There had been some strife between the two couples, not because they were so different from each other, but because they each wanted to give their child a family name, Bartholomew. It came to a head during one of the required hospital meetings, both couples storming out right after they both wrote Bartholomew on their respective birth certificates. It would be the first of many dualities.

The two Barts found themselves in classes with other similarly named children, pair after pair. They looked alike, often dressed alike, especially when they got old enough to pick their own clothes. They were all musical, playing instruments. Bartholomew played piano while Bart played cello, the two of them often performing together which meant their parents had to tolerate each other, spending time as pairs. This arrangement was harder on Tad and Abigail. Betty and Nelson just weren’t their kind of people. Tad and Abigail enjoyed the theater followed by an expensive restaurant. Betty and Nelson spent what little money they had traveling to as many NASCAR races as possible, sleeping in their rusted RV. It was their remarkable children that brought them together.

The school expected much from its protégés. There were a lot of overnight field trips, many opportunities where the children were separated from their parents, the parents left in a state of confusion. Abigail and Tad had questions as did many of the other parents though Betty and Nelson enjoyed the time alone, time spent at the race track. Over the years the children outpaced their parents, bringing home texts books that only confused their parents, especially the science and math. Tad was an engineer but he was seeing things in his son’s homework that eluded his understanding.

There were parent/teacher meetings. All was affirming as the parents were assured that their children were healthy and happy and it did seem that way. Bartholomew did genuinely seem content, if not happy spending hours on his studies. When he wasn’t doing homework, he was practicing piano, Abigail and Tad enjoying Chopin and Liszt from the expensive grand piano which they had to purchase. The same was true for Bart and when both children had some down time, they were texting each other, texting and occasionally laughing. Abigail wondered what they found so funny. Was it she and Tad? She hoped it was Betty and Nelson. She guessed they could be laughed at more than she and Tad. Either way, the children were much smarter and that disturbed her.

Abigail noticed how alike the boys were, doing almost the same things at the same time. Stranger still was how similar they looked right down to their green eyes, something that neither parents shared. She once mentioned it to Betty, but Betty didn’t seem to notice or care and so life went on until the end of the boys’ senior year. Graduation should have been the biggest event in their life at this point, but it was the meeting that followed that took precedence. It was a nice gathering, finger food and punch, jubilant teachers and parents socializing, but all of that soon ended when an old familiar face entered the room. It was nurse Florence in full white uniform.

“I wonder if I could have all the parents’ attention. Please have a seat and we’ll get started.”

The teachers left the room leaving only the parents. Curiously, there were chairs lined in a row facing a table. The parents were directed to the chairs as Nurse Florence stood on the opposite side of the table, a white stack of papers in front of her.

“Here are the college applications for your children where they will be spending the next four years in an accelerated program, receiving their doctorate degrees.

“Don’t we have some say in where our children will attend college? I mean, shouldn’t our children make this decision?” Abigail corrected herself.

“We’ve already decided mom.” Abigail looked at her son, wondering what had just happened.

“I’m going to Stanford and I’m excited about it.”

“Well where are you going Bart?”

“I’m going to MIT Betty.” Bart had been calling his mother by her given name for years and why not. Betty hadn’t felt like his mother for a long time. She didn’t know him at all. She suspected the other parents felt the same way.

“Your sons and daughters will stay in touch with you of course,” Nurse Florence intoned. They’ll be home for holidays and part of the summers just like any other ordinary student.

“Ordinary,” Abigail thought?

The years flowed like an unstoppable river. The children were children no more, but adults who were directed to specific high tech jobs from the career service associated both with their universities and the hospital. They married, had children and filled the niches of society left by those who passed into yesterday, life replaced again and again by something new, the old passing into obscurity. Their world was changing in subtle ways. They didn’t notice it because they were part of it, but their parents noticed. The world Abigail and Tad knew was changing in ways that were alarming, at least to them. Betty and Nelson were either oblivious or happy with the world, but to many of the parents involved with the experiment, there were shared feelings of anxiety. The things they accepted as normal when they were young had been replaced by what could only be seen as irrational.

Social media had crept up on them like a cat entering a room, quiet and almost unseen but suddenly there, owning the room and its occupants, to be served and then to be ignored. Polite discourse had turned into obscene accusations whether it was led by celebrities or politicians. There was no escaping the constant barrage of talk shows, movies with fallen heroes and television shows that bordered on the insane: obscenities and extreme violence the norm. Cell phones and tablets carried a constant barrage of advertisements. Everyone was dependant on their home digital assistants, small cylindrical devises that glowed charming colors, cameras for eyes and microphones for ears, almost human and making thousands of decisions for their lucky owners.

Society was being remade to look younger or more virile. Everyone started to look alike wearing the same designer clothes, the same hair styles, consuming hundreds of supplements to enhance one’s libido. The language was changing, the richness of words being replaced by simpler words, a single simple word carelessly spoken to represent a multitude of meanings or feelings. Awesome. Eventually a second rate talk show host would be elected president.

Abigail was swiping through on her Ipad. Ads were popping up, each suggesting something she needed. It was persuasive. All she had to do was touch it and the item would be purchased, the amount automatically deducted from her bank account. Absentmindedly she touched and then wondered why she needed pills for erectile dysfunction? She was jarred when a picture filled her screen, a picture of the private school that Bartholomew had attended. The image was followed by an announcement. She and her husband were invited to a twentieth year graduation reunion, a last and final meeting at their children’s school. There would be a dinner in the cafeteria, crab legs and an open bar followed by a brief meeting where their offspring would be recognized for their career achievements.

“Tad, did you see this?” but her husband had it up on his laptop. “What do you suppose it means? Bartholomew didn’t mention this the last time he called.”

“I guess we’ll find out. Besides, the dinner might be nice and you won’t have to cook.”

“I’ve never felt good about that school. Too controlling. We don’t see much of Bartholomew or our grandchildren. He never talks about his work, even when I ask. Everything is, I don’t know, cloak and dagger? They seem happy but a mother’s intuition.” She trailed off. “I guess we have to go.” Abigail was surprised to hear the Amazon Echo chirp, “I’ll put it on your event calendar,” and just like clockwork, Echo flawlessly reminded them when the day arrived.

Tad pulled into the parking lot and both he and his wife were surprised to see how old and worn the outside of the school was. A letter was missing from the school sign: Welcome to St. Thaddeus, Where young minds are molded to do the Imp ssible! Once inside, they noticed similar deterioration. Though there were new cardboard signs with arrows pointing the way to the cafeteria, the walls themselves were dingy from old dirt and grime: hand prints from twenty years ago. They ducked into a classroom just to look. Most of the desks had been removed. There was a broken window and leaves had gotten in, only to decay and darken the paint. There was the smell of mold.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” but Tad interrupted his wife, took her hand and tried to assure her.

“The school hasn’t been used for a while. If there’s mold in the cafeteria, we’ll leave, but right now, I’m hungry. Let’s go eat. Besides Bartholomew and family should be meeting us if their plane was on time. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen them. Anyway, in a couple of hours we’ll all return home.”

“Oh I can’t wait to see them and the children. I’ll bet Mike and Monica have grown.”

They were surprised to see the condition of the cafeteria. Apparently not much time was spent cleaning but there was no smell of mold, just that of crab legs.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Oh God yes,” said Abigail and she looked furtively through the mulling parents, looking for Bartholomew, but it was Betty and Nelson that she unwittingly made eye contact with and now they were moving toward her, contact returned. To say they were walking toward her would be generous because they were staggering more than walking having hit the open bar more than several times.

“Abigail, long time no see,” Betty slurred. “Have you tried one of these green mint juleps or whatever the hell it is? It’s the only thing the bar’s serving, cheap skates, but it’s free and I’m taking advantage of that!”

“If it’s free booze, I’m all over it,” and Nelson let out a gigantic belch in his exuberance, the smell resembling something like an industrial chemical spill rather than alcohol.

Abigail desperately looked for an out when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Bartholomew along with his wife Alicia and their two children.

“Oh thank God,” she blurted out and then looked apologetic. She didn’t want to offend Betty or Nelson but she soon realized they were too drunk to be offended by anything.

“Let’s find a table and get caught up. Tad’s getting drinks. He’ll get you a couple, no worries.” She realized remotely that she was hooked on the new abbreviated language.

“No worries. Shit,” she thought. She was further distressed when Betty and Nelson sat down next to them along with their son Bart, his wife and two children.

Fortunately, the dinner made up for the company. It was great: tremendous. They all thought that. So were the drinks. They thought that too. After the first drink they stopped seeing the school as old and deserted. It looked just like it had years ago except for the added screens which adorned all four walls, a larger screen at the back. There were pictures scrolling, memorializing the past events of the very special children in their very special school, their lives as scripted as the order of the pictures. Between the pictures were dazzling colors, geometric shapes flashing and changing, the colors and images reflecting off the walls, illuminating and filling the room with something almost psychedelic. The background music which had been barely perceptible was changing, becoming louder, the drum beat matching the biorhythmic pulse of every heart, blood and green drinks being rhythmically pushed through every body and more so, every receptive brain.

Abigail was feeling lightheaded. She blamed it on the drinks, but she only had two. She looked around, tried to see how others were responding. They all seemed absorbed in conversations, catching up with other parents, the noise level increasing and increasing, making her feel dizzy when suddenly she was jolted.

“I said finish your damn crab legs Mike. And you too Monica! Do you know what that would cost us at the Red Lobster?”

“Did you say Mike and Monica?” Abigail looked at Betty, uttered “What the hell!”

“Of course Mike and Monica.” Betty was still slurring her speech. “That’s their damn names. I wanted Dale and Danika but Bart and Alicia insisted on Mike and Monica.”

“Yeah, Dale and Danika,” and Nelson reached for more crab legs from the bowls which were constantly being brought out, the old replaced by the new. “Time our people took control,” but this thought was interrupted by another huge belch followed by some expectorated crab which now was escaping down his stubbled chin.

“Wait! You named your kids the same as ours?” but Bartholomew wasn’t prepared for his mom’s response.

“Well isn’t that just great! First you steal my grandfather’s name, Bartholomew for your kid’s name and now you’ve stolen our grandchildren’s names.”

“I haven’t stolen anyone’s name little missy and besides, my dumb son named them, not me.”

“Hey, let’s settle down here. Alicia and I liked the names. We didn’t know you named them that.”

“Hey Bart. How is it that we both married Alicia’s? What’s going on here?”

“Just luck I guess.” He laughed uncomfortably. I named the kids because of my work. I’m a programmer working at BioCorp. Mike and Monica kept coming up on my screen. It was an incentive I guess, Mike and Monica approve of your good work. It was like I had to name them Mike and Monica.”

Bartholomew was suddenly quiet, as still as a dead crab in a pot of boiling water. The room had turned into a disco, the large screens emitting colors and shapes which were now dancing around the room, its effect dizzying.

“I work for BioCorp. I got those same messages. I’d take my ten o’clock bathroom break, coffee going through, I guess. I’d come back and it would be up on my screen: Mike and Monica approve.”

“You take a ten o’clock bathroom break? So do I.” Their table got quiet.

The screens were dancing with color after color, shape followed by shape.

Bart was feeling queasy, light headed, but he was able to finally speak. “Do those shapes and signs look familiar?”

“It looks like one of the modules I was working on,” Bartholomew answered, also lightheaded.

“Yeah, mine too. I’ve been programming a series of modules but I’ve never seen the bigger program, what it connects to. We were supposed to program marketing tools, influence buying and related trends. We were told to be creative. Subliminal suggestion and even hypnosis was on the table, anything that could influence perception.” He trailed off in thought.

The tables were getting quieter just as the screens were changing, now flowing a dark rhythmic blue. The music stopped, soon to be followed by an announcement and a familiar voice.

“I hope you all enjoyed the drinks and meal. I’m sure it was fun catching up, but now I’d like you all to join me in the back of the room.”

Once again there were chairs set up in several rows, chairs facing a long table where a number of people were seated between the table and in front of a one hundred and ten inch screen. There was a large black computer, so oversized that it couldn’t be ignored. The graduated prodigies all guessed that the computer was running all the screens. They began to suspect what was happening as it all looked familiar. All of this was interrupted by a matching familiar face. Nurse Florence began to address the gathering.

“Some of your old teachers will take your children to the gym while we come together for our last and final meeting. Don’t worry. They’ll be fine.”

The parents watched as their children were ushered out of the room, parents and grandparents once again separated from their children, this time not feeling so comforted. Abigail and Tad drifted toward the chairs as did all the adults, drifting to the soft music and undulating blue light pulsing from the mounted screens. There was something soothing about it. It said everything would be alright. Do as we ask.

There were new faces seated at the table, several men in suits, two who had clipboards with attached papers. With them sat a four star general, but it was nurse Florence who was standing, positioned in the center of the table, standing straight as an iron rod and cold: again so cold.

“I hope you enjoyed your dinner and especially the drinks.”

“Why the hell did you just have that green shit? You said there’d be an open bar. Where was the Maker’s Mark for Christ’s sake!”

“You will sit down and be quiet Betty!” Nurse Florence looked taller, menacing but there was something else. The four star general looked diminutive compared to nurse Florence.

“Why are we here?”

“Well, I’m going to tell you Abby. Oh you prefer Abigail, don’t you? I remember, just like we were old friends. And in a way, we are: you and your extraordinary children.”

“What about our children?” another mother asked but she was soon silenced.

“I birthed every one of your children, attended to all you expectant mothers, wide eyed and frightened, each of you wanting some relief, relief from pain, from anxiety, even from the natural order of birth and I was only too happy to supply that relief.”

“The reason for this little get together is to tell you all that it came at a price. Your brilliant green eyed children, their extraordinary free education, their success as adults, their bright eyed children: it all came with a price tag which you provided tenfold. Look at the screen. Look deeply into the screen. You’ve been looking at your screens for the last twenty years. Cell phones, tablets and computers; even your wide screen TVs. Everywhere you go, there are screens bringing you all sorts of information, information we have been controlling.”

“What the hell are you talking about,” but before Betty could finish, nurse Florence touched a shape on her cell phone and Betty immediately sat down, quiet and contrite, and the same shape appearing on the big screen. One of the parents checked their cell phone. Had it rung?

“That’s right,” nurse Florence continued. “Everything is as it should be, life following whatever order we give it.”

“What do you mean, give it order?”

“Well Abby,” and this time Florence didn’t bother to falsely correct herself. You’ve all been part of a big experiment starting with that green IV bag that relieved you from all that pain. You don’t like pain, do you? No one likes pain and now we’ve taken care of that, taken your pain away, pain from making decisions, from hardships and sorrow, and mostly, from caring.”

“From caring?” another parent asked.

“Of course, caring. Caring only causes pain. You care about your dog and it dies. You care about your child and when he disappoints you, you’re miserable, but we’ve taken all that pain away. The green medicine in the IV bag actually started out as a potent weed killer, but during an industrial accident, it was discovered to have other properties. One was relieving pain and believe me; after the spill and the skin burns, those workers needed a lot of pain relief!” It was the first time the parents had ever heard nurse Florence laugh.

“The other thing it did, and this is the most curious part, it seemed to make their minds very susceptible to suggestion. Of course they were going to sue, but when we talked to the first complainant, he readily accepted a ridiculously low settlement. Once we realized what was going on, we convinced others to embrace the accident with no remuneration. We renamed the weed killer CE X. We tried test subjects, giving them small amounts, what we thought safe, but it didn’t have the same effect. We needed something else and that’s when we tried the power of suggestion, but even then, the subjects needed something that was constant, an uninterrupted stream of visual and auditory stimuli. And that’s where you and your children came into the picture.”

“How dare you!” one parent interrupted, but was soon settled by the changing shapes on the large screen.

“That’s right. You feel better now, don’t you?” Florence continued. “We thought, what if we pass it to the next generation. It may be toxic in its original form, but diluted to one part per one million, what affect would it have on an expectant mother? What happened astounded all of us. The first infant born was different, different in so many ways. It was clear intelligence had been dramatically advanced and there were other anomalies. All the infants that were born were somehow psychically connected, all doing and thinking the same things. We realized we could put CE X, into the public drinking system, dosing not just every American, but every pregnant American citizen. Soon the entire population would be connected, all thinking alike. Half of your special children worked in our biochemical labs, improving CE X. The other half worked in our computer tech labs, programming not just mind exploiting hypnotic programs, but viruses, Trojan horses, and a hundred other ways to infect and invade every computer, every cell phone and media source, the combination of CE X and computer generated control experimental programs. Everything fell into place.”

“Why are you telling us this? What kind of monster are you, are all of you? You’ll never get away with this!”

“Oh but we have, Tad. Just think about it. Think about all of the questionable and stupid things you have done. You’ve accepted all the terrible behavior of television and movie stars: of your politicians. You’ve deliberately shopped for and worn stupid clothes. We made a French haut couture clothing designer put all his models in bird dresses, feathers and prosthetic beaks and all the wealthy couldn’t paraded around in them fast enough. We made a pop singer wear raw meat in her act. Raw meat for God’s sake, and she did it willingly. We even made you elect a president who was unfaithful with a porn star, though I confess that was a bit more challenging. Thank God for the Electoral College.”

Nelson shrunk down in his seat but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered as the big screen came to life, shapes and elevator music keeping control of the crowd. But the children, they were different from their parents. They had created this monstrosity. Bartholomew tried to shield his eyes, and looking down he covered his ears, long enough to say, “The government will never let you get away with this.”

“The government!” Again nurse Florence laughed. “Who do you think has sponsored this? Of course the government, that and wealthy corporate owners. Who else has access to all the big water reservoirs? Who legislates septic systems and wells for purity, and makes well owners put chemicals into their wells to keep them safe?

“But why would the government want an idiot for a president?” but as soon as he said it, Bartholomew knew the answer, because the government was no longer its elected officials. The country was now controlled by big money and the military, the elected officials, now mere puppets controlled like everyone else.

“There’s one more thing as this is the last time I will be talking to you,” continued the nurse. “It’s been fun watching you all do every stupid thing we suggested, but the study is over as is your role. It seems that each offspring, each new generation is smarter than the last so I’m afraid you, the first generation will be replaced by your even more talented children.”

All the screens throughout the room were coming back to life. Scripted music was intensifying. Shapes were dancing around the room, bouncing off the walls, other sounds penetrating the more obvious. There was the sound of a ringing cell phone, and it demanded obedience, listen and respond. It was a great program: awesome.

“I’m afraid your minds and memories are being erased. We can’t have any of this getting out, now can we. In a few minutes you will be like young children but don’t worry, there will be a special school where you all will be going, where you will be taken care of, but marginally I’m afraid. The new federal budget doesn’t cover more than minimum care. It will be a new world, a new order, but you won’t be a part of it I’m afraid. Now your children….,” but they never heard the rest, or if they did, they didn’t have the capacity to understand. They were taken away in several yellow school buses. Maybe they were the lucky ones. They wouldn’t have liked what was coming.

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: dogboy
Timestamp: Nov 24, 2021 at 3:17 AM
Content: Thanks Kerry! Hugs!

############################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################################
Author: dogboy
Timestamp: Dec 22, 2021 at 1:41 AM
Content:

Jayjacobjackson said:

You have no idea how much I enjoyed reading this. My last hour was a strange mix of "sh!t that's creepy," "aww," and "oh heck yes"

[End of quote]

Thank you so much. The Bobby character was important to me because there are so many abused kids in the world and they deserve better. In a way, I think we all deserve better as planet Earth is a tough gig. Still, there are also great things to be explored and discovered as we go through life, and some of them are mysterious and wondrous.