Status: Redo of my old story
Silence Falls
Chapter 140: Splintered His Perception
With purpose, Jack strode down the hall with the irksome green crayon Bert had pilfered to start a blowup, hidden from sight within his tight fist. The Orderly knew what he had to do to calm the hysterics and search parties going on in the Male Ward, and set things back into their customary routine. He just wished it didn’t have to come to this. Sadly, there was nothing he could do to forestall what he was about to do. It had to be done. To protect Bert, it had to be done.
Selecting an addled elderly man straggling ahead of him because he still wore his art apron on, Jack deliberately deviated from his straight path to ‘accidentally’ bump into him. As soon as their shoulders made contact, the Orderly convincingly sneered down at the heavily medicated older man as he slipped the green crayon into his apron unnoticed. “Watch it, old man!”
“Uhh…” Was all the elderly man could muster as he stumbled back from the young Orderly who passed him by. He couldn’t catch the man’s face, his vision was that poorly shrouded. He could make out shapes but no details, and concluded that was why he couldn’t figure out where he was at the moment.
Inwardly screaming, Jack gave it a few seconds before turning around and pointing an accusing finger at the old man, condemning him. With a shout, the sound of a stampede of Orderlies would certainly come. “HE’S THE ONE! HE TOOK THE GREEN CRAYON!”
Orderlies appeared from both sides of the old man and tackled the already disabled elderly to the ground like he was an imposing giant. Jack couldn’t bring himself to say anything after that, he just stood there witnessing what Hermanni had told him manifest itself right before his eyes. The Orderlies were pinning the poor old man down as if he had the powers to kill them all if they didn’t do a good enough job at restraining him. Jack could tell by the eerie angle of the patient’s left arm that it had been broken in the midst of the collision.
The poor old man cried out in both pain and fear as they dragged him by the collar of his shirt to be punished for thievery, the material yanking tightly around his neck and choking him along the way. Jack saw the tears in the old man’s innocent eyes and the look of betrayal. The Orderly wanted to scream and stall them, but he knew he would be putting Bert's life back in danger instead and he could NOT risk that. He had no choice but to let the old man likely perish for something he had no part in. For the first time in his life being employed in the Psychiatric Hospital, something in Jack splintered his perception and he saw the unforgiving truth with his own eyes. He detested himself. A hyperventilating Jack was on the verge of having a public meltdown when someone grabbed his arm from behind and jerked him into an empty cell.
“What the fuck is going on out the-” Bert began before cutting off when he notice that something was unmistakably wrong with the young Orderly. Jack was sitting on the lower bunk bed with his head in his hands, rocking his quaking frame back and forth. Bert had never seen him behave like this before and so he shut the door behind him and cautiously approached the older male. “...Jack, are you okay?”
Jack didn't reply to Bert because he was drowning in his own shame to answer him honestly. He hadn't meant to choose that elderly patient to take the fall for his patient. Hell, he didn't want to choose ANYONE to take the blame for Bert's asinine faults, but he had no other choice! Jack had to do whatever he could to protect Bert and the others if he wanted to repress this evil that Hermanni had told him about for good.
Still, that desire alone couldn't abolish what he was suffering with as a result of his prompt decision to sentence an innocent man. Jack bit his trembling lower lips as he hid behind his hands and softly cursed himself. He didn't want to go back to doing his job and gather his patients to escort them to the crafts room like he’s supposed to do right now. He just wanted to sit where he was at present and do nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Was he a monster just like the rest of them because of what he’d done just now…or because of what he’d done in the past?
“Jack, calm down! If you keep panicking like that you’re gonna have a panic attack, you hear me?” Bert warned him softly, trying to help Jack wake up and get a hold of his rapid breathing.
Jack gave him a quick nod then tried to get himself under control. Once he was more calm and collected, he allowed himself a few more minutes before speaking. His voice came out as a mumble as if he was talking more to himself than Bert who was listening closely to what Jack was about to confess in his moment of weakness. “I-I can't believe I did that. I can't believe I did that to that poor old guy.”
“What are you talking about? What did you do? What happened out there?” Bert questioned him faintly, lowering himself into a crouch in front of Jack to give him his undivided attention. If he would have known what he was about to hear, he would have braced himself for it first.
Jack let out a shaky breath before wiping his mouth. He still couldn't bring himself to look away from his white blaring shoes on the linoleum floor. “I...I had to pin the theft on someone before they could point their fingers at you. I found the crayon you told me about, and headed down the hallway to find someone…to frame. Nobody else was walking around but an innocent old man who had no clue where the hell he even was.” Jack parted his lips to continue but the words wouldn't come out. He opted for closing his mouth instead and giving himself some time before ending his tragic tale. “I wasn't thinking about anything but keeping you alive and safe. I put the crayon on him, and raised the alarm. They came from…everywhere, and tackled him to the ground like he was the biggest threat to God. The look on his face as they were dragging him away...he wasn’t angry or hateful at all. Rather, he had this sad expression that said ‘why me’...why me...”
Bert was more puzzled by this tale than anything. For a fact, the tragedy was heartbreaking, and he did sympathize for the old man who was framed for his damn game plan. But…Jack had been working in the Psychiatric Hospital for a while now, yet he was reacting as if something like this had never happened to him before. Bert had never seen Jack so contrite or moved to tears, so this occurrence was undoubtedly something new to him entirely.
The young patient wasn't sure what to do at that point so Bert opted for reminding Jack that this was part of his job criteria. “I'm sorry you had to do that for me, Jack. Really I am, but...and I don’t mean to sound like a fucking dick for saying this, but…isn't that something you're used to by now? I mean, you've been working here for a long time, and have witnessed firsthand some pretty messed up shit. You've probably seen it all by now, and yet...this is what’s fucking you up?”
“Of course it affects me! I'm not some cold-blooded monster like everyone else here! I give a shit about what happens to you guys!” Jack barked at Bert, taking offense to his words. His brown eyes blazed like fire when they glared up at his seemingly impervious patient.
“If you give a shit so damn much why won't you help us escape this place then? It seems to me you'd rather let us die here instead of giving us a chance to live!” Bert retaliated back, still selfishly thinking of himself and his friends. The old man that was damned was probably already dead. His friends weren’t, and they didn’t have much time left for him to stand around twiddling his fingers and waiting on some miracle to show up to rescue them!
“God, I don't know how much more of this I can take! For some reason these past few months are becoming harder and longer to endure.” Jack grumbled to himself as he stood up to pace the room much like the unhinged patients he supervised did.
Bert's brow furrowed in concern as he watched their only means of escape slowly start to lose his sanity before his very eyes. Despite the fact that Jack had repeatedly told them in the past that he wouldn't aid them in any way shape or form, he was still a vital asset to their future breakout. Bert stubbornly believed it. No amount of denial being thrown back into his face was going to change his mind. At some point, soon or later, Jack was going to help them escape the Psychiatric Hospital, and until then, he couldn’t be allowed to lose his sanity or else they’d be dead.
Selecting an addled elderly man straggling ahead of him because he still wore his art apron on, Jack deliberately deviated from his straight path to ‘accidentally’ bump into him. As soon as their shoulders made contact, the Orderly convincingly sneered down at the heavily medicated older man as he slipped the green crayon into his apron unnoticed. “Watch it, old man!”
“Uhh…” Was all the elderly man could muster as he stumbled back from the young Orderly who passed him by. He couldn’t catch the man’s face, his vision was that poorly shrouded. He could make out shapes but no details, and concluded that was why he couldn’t figure out where he was at the moment.
Inwardly screaming, Jack gave it a few seconds before turning around and pointing an accusing finger at the old man, condemning him. With a shout, the sound of a stampede of Orderlies would certainly come. “HE’S THE ONE! HE TOOK THE GREEN CRAYON!”
Orderlies appeared from both sides of the old man and tackled the already disabled elderly to the ground like he was an imposing giant. Jack couldn’t bring himself to say anything after that, he just stood there witnessing what Hermanni had told him manifest itself right before his eyes. The Orderlies were pinning the poor old man down as if he had the powers to kill them all if they didn’t do a good enough job at restraining him. Jack could tell by the eerie angle of the patient’s left arm that it had been broken in the midst of the collision.
The poor old man cried out in both pain and fear as they dragged him by the collar of his shirt to be punished for thievery, the material yanking tightly around his neck and choking him along the way. Jack saw the tears in the old man’s innocent eyes and the look of betrayal. The Orderly wanted to scream and stall them, but he knew he would be putting Bert's life back in danger instead and he could NOT risk that. He had no choice but to let the old man likely perish for something he had no part in. For the first time in his life being employed in the Psychiatric Hospital, something in Jack splintered his perception and he saw the unforgiving truth with his own eyes. He detested himself. A hyperventilating Jack was on the verge of having a public meltdown when someone grabbed his arm from behind and jerked him into an empty cell.
“What the fuck is going on out the-” Bert began before cutting off when he notice that something was unmistakably wrong with the young Orderly. Jack was sitting on the lower bunk bed with his head in his hands, rocking his quaking frame back and forth. Bert had never seen him behave like this before and so he shut the door behind him and cautiously approached the older male. “...Jack, are you okay?”
Jack didn't reply to Bert because he was drowning in his own shame to answer him honestly. He hadn't meant to choose that elderly patient to take the fall for his patient. Hell, he didn't want to choose ANYONE to take the blame for Bert's asinine faults, but he had no other choice! Jack had to do whatever he could to protect Bert and the others if he wanted to repress this evil that Hermanni had told him about for good.
Still, that desire alone couldn't abolish what he was suffering with as a result of his prompt decision to sentence an innocent man. Jack bit his trembling lower lips as he hid behind his hands and softly cursed himself. He didn't want to go back to doing his job and gather his patients to escort them to the crafts room like he’s supposed to do right now. He just wanted to sit where he was at present and do nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Was he a monster just like the rest of them because of what he’d done just now…or because of what he’d done in the past?
“Jack, calm down! If you keep panicking like that you’re gonna have a panic attack, you hear me?” Bert warned him softly, trying to help Jack wake up and get a hold of his rapid breathing.
Jack gave him a quick nod then tried to get himself under control. Once he was more calm and collected, he allowed himself a few more minutes before speaking. His voice came out as a mumble as if he was talking more to himself than Bert who was listening closely to what Jack was about to confess in his moment of weakness. “I-I can't believe I did that. I can't believe I did that to that poor old guy.”
“What are you talking about? What did you do? What happened out there?” Bert questioned him faintly, lowering himself into a crouch in front of Jack to give him his undivided attention. If he would have known what he was about to hear, he would have braced himself for it first.
Jack let out a shaky breath before wiping his mouth. He still couldn't bring himself to look away from his white blaring shoes on the linoleum floor. “I...I had to pin the theft on someone before they could point their fingers at you. I found the crayon you told me about, and headed down the hallway to find someone…to frame. Nobody else was walking around but an innocent old man who had no clue where the hell he even was.” Jack parted his lips to continue but the words wouldn't come out. He opted for closing his mouth instead and giving himself some time before ending his tragic tale. “I wasn't thinking about anything but keeping you alive and safe. I put the crayon on him, and raised the alarm. They came from…everywhere, and tackled him to the ground like he was the biggest threat to God. The look on his face as they were dragging him away...he wasn’t angry or hateful at all. Rather, he had this sad expression that said ‘why me’...why me...”
Bert was more puzzled by this tale than anything. For a fact, the tragedy was heartbreaking, and he did sympathize for the old man who was framed for his damn game plan. But…Jack had been working in the Psychiatric Hospital for a while now, yet he was reacting as if something like this had never happened to him before. Bert had never seen Jack so contrite or moved to tears, so this occurrence was undoubtedly something new to him entirely.
The young patient wasn't sure what to do at that point so Bert opted for reminding Jack that this was part of his job criteria. “I'm sorry you had to do that for me, Jack. Really I am, but...and I don’t mean to sound like a fucking dick for saying this, but…isn't that something you're used to by now? I mean, you've been working here for a long time, and have witnessed firsthand some pretty messed up shit. You've probably seen it all by now, and yet...this is what’s fucking you up?”
“Of course it affects me! I'm not some cold-blooded monster like everyone else here! I give a shit about what happens to you guys!” Jack barked at Bert, taking offense to his words. His brown eyes blazed like fire when they glared up at his seemingly impervious patient.
“If you give a shit so damn much why won't you help us escape this place then? It seems to me you'd rather let us die here instead of giving us a chance to live!” Bert retaliated back, still selfishly thinking of himself and his friends. The old man that was damned was probably already dead. His friends weren’t, and they didn’t have much time left for him to stand around twiddling his fingers and waiting on some miracle to show up to rescue them!
“God, I don't know how much more of this I can take! For some reason these past few months are becoming harder and longer to endure.” Jack grumbled to himself as he stood up to pace the room much like the unhinged patients he supervised did.
Bert's brow furrowed in concern as he watched their only means of escape slowly start to lose his sanity before his very eyes. Despite the fact that Jack had repeatedly told them in the past that he wouldn't aid them in any way shape or form, he was still a vital asset to their future breakout. Bert stubbornly believed it. No amount of denial being thrown back into his face was going to change his mind. At some point, soon or later, Jack was going to help them escape the Psychiatric Hospital, and until then, he couldn’t be allowed to lose his sanity or else they’d be dead.