Fixed
All Better Now
She brought the girl to a large gray building, that looked as though it could have been a mall in the past, teaming with little people rushing this way and that. Buying happiness, and trying to pretend everything was alright, and that they didn’t live a world that was obsessed with perfection.
But the building was a far cry from a mall. It wasn’t a place leisure and amusement. It was the chop shop, the doctor’s office and a factory mixed together. It was the where people were brought to be fixed and turned into acceptable members of society. Psychos, delinquents, the depraved and the deformed, all of them were carted off to the Shop. But if you couldn’t be mended, where did you go? To the small white room with the big gray throne and the winding cords crawling up the sides. And the platter of sharp things, cold things and scary things waiting for a vein. No one ever saw those people again. And no one cared. If you couldn’t be fixed, you would be removed, and it’s so easy to not care about someone who wouldn’t stay for long.
But never mind that.
The woman brought the little girl into the building, and handed her off to a smart looking attendant with gray eyes, a blue uniform and a friendly smile. She took the girls’ hand, leading her away from the mother and stepped onto one of the many elevators ascending to the second floor.
The attendant leaves the little girl in the waiting room sitting her down in a chair next to an elderly thing in a strait jacket, and telling her to wait until her number is called. The girl stares down at her number, number 23. There are only three other things in the room, her, the old thing and something in the corner. The girl glanced at the old thing, assessing him for quite a while before speaking.
“Do you not feel like me?” She asked.
He comments that he does feel, and he’s there because he felt. He says that feelings are bad things, and that now they were going to kill him. He then asks her if since she doesn’t feel does she hate everyone. And she responds that she doesn’t hate anything, she just doesn’t care. She then asks him why he is there.
“I silenced a lot of people because they weren’t worth anything and I grew to hate them, then I silenced some more because they were no different from the first batch.” He laughs, and she nods.
“What kind of people do you hate?” She inquires, not because she’s genuinely interested. She was just bored and he might as well occupy her time while she waited for her number to be called. The doctor’s had already taken the thing in the corner and she could hear it screaming down the hall.
“I hold no prejudice. I hate everyone equally.” The old thing responds.
But before she can respond her number is called and she follows her assigned doctor into the operation room. The doctor’s set the girl on the table and comment on how she resembled a porcelain doll, but soon they would fix her and she could finally become a real girl.
When she returns to the waiting room, the old man is no longer there, but she doesn’t take any notice of his absence, and instead she cries out for her mother. The doctors and the attendant from before smile, “Everything is all better.” They say. They don’t notice the glint in the girl’s eyes or the satisfied little smirk that she wore. The doctors and attendants are too overjoyed with the fact that they had cured the child and there was one less sociopath in the world. “But we can’t forget the psychopath!” They exclaim to each other, remembering the old man that they had euthanized only minutes before. “It’s a pity about that thing though.” A nurse murmurs. “Yes, it’s a pity about that thing.” They all agree but brush the thought from their mind and focus on the little girl.
On the way home, the little girls’ mother is smiling through her tears. She turns to her daughter and asks, “How do you feel, sweetie? How do you feel about everyone?”
The little girl takes a moment to think, then tilts her head to the side and says in a bright and bubbly voice,
“I hold no prejudice. I hate everyone equally.”
But the building was a far cry from a mall. It wasn’t a place leisure and amusement. It was the chop shop, the doctor’s office and a factory mixed together. It was the where people were brought to be fixed and turned into acceptable members of society. Psychos, delinquents, the depraved and the deformed, all of them were carted off to the Shop. But if you couldn’t be mended, where did you go? To the small white room with the big gray throne and the winding cords crawling up the sides. And the platter of sharp things, cold things and scary things waiting for a vein. No one ever saw those people again. And no one cared. If you couldn’t be fixed, you would be removed, and it’s so easy to not care about someone who wouldn’t stay for long.
But never mind that.
The woman brought the little girl into the building, and handed her off to a smart looking attendant with gray eyes, a blue uniform and a friendly smile. She took the girls’ hand, leading her away from the mother and stepped onto one of the many elevators ascending to the second floor.
The attendant leaves the little girl in the waiting room sitting her down in a chair next to an elderly thing in a strait jacket, and telling her to wait until her number is called. The girl stares down at her number, number 23. There are only three other things in the room, her, the old thing and something in the corner. The girl glanced at the old thing, assessing him for quite a while before speaking.
“Do you not feel like me?” She asked.
He comments that he does feel, and he’s there because he felt. He says that feelings are bad things, and that now they were going to kill him. He then asks her if since she doesn’t feel does she hate everyone. And she responds that she doesn’t hate anything, she just doesn’t care. She then asks him why he is there.
“I silenced a lot of people because they weren’t worth anything and I grew to hate them, then I silenced some more because they were no different from the first batch.” He laughs, and she nods.
“What kind of people do you hate?” She inquires, not because she’s genuinely interested. She was just bored and he might as well occupy her time while she waited for her number to be called. The doctor’s had already taken the thing in the corner and she could hear it screaming down the hall.
“I hold no prejudice. I hate everyone equally.” The old thing responds.
But before she can respond her number is called and she follows her assigned doctor into the operation room. The doctor’s set the girl on the table and comment on how she resembled a porcelain doll, but soon they would fix her and she could finally become a real girl.
When she returns to the waiting room, the old man is no longer there, but she doesn’t take any notice of his absence, and instead she cries out for her mother. The doctors and the attendant from before smile, “Everything is all better.” They say. They don’t notice the glint in the girl’s eyes or the satisfied little smirk that she wore. The doctors and attendants are too overjoyed with the fact that they had cured the child and there was one less sociopath in the world. “But we can’t forget the psychopath!” They exclaim to each other, remembering the old man that they had euthanized only minutes before. “It’s a pity about that thing though.” A nurse murmurs. “Yes, it’s a pity about that thing.” They all agree but brush the thought from their mind and focus on the little girl.
On the way home, the little girls’ mother is smiling through her tears. She turns to her daughter and asks, “How do you feel, sweetie? How do you feel about everyone?”
The little girl takes a moment to think, then tilts her head to the side and says in a bright and bubbly voice,
“I hold no prejudice. I hate everyone equally.”
♠ ♠ ♠
This was written for a contest but also because my Psychology Professor talked about Sociopaths and Psychopaths last week and I felt the need to write a story about it.