Stories of Siv Spencer Theophane
Seventeen
An annoying paranoia in his soul spread like ash in the wind as Siv heard the sounds of footsteps approaching his door. Nothing that had a choice ever came in or out of Room 17. There were machines and equipment that appeared to belong to a spital of some sort. A private spital, there had already been several beds there when Siv was a child. Surrounding the room were concernedly placed dried medicine bottles that had clearly not been used for decades. Every day that passed Siv would look around at the room, every new dent in the wall or crack in the floorboard would intimately catch his eye.
Human beings were lascivious lechers, driven by selfish desire and reproduction was the end result. Siv hadn't known his parents, but he deducted from how they had left him there that he was not a love child, nor a loved child. The one thing he could not reach a conclusion for, was why he had been left here. Why not an orphanage or a distant relative? Why a place full of strangers and isolation? Not that it mattered now. He lived each day and he slept well each night. His speech was misspoken and his body was still - he needed not to communicate with anyone but himself - he understood himself perfectly. He sat there in silence, the grounds were relaxed. He heard no noise from the corridors, the silence was enough to drive anyone mad with frustration.
A sigh escaped his lips and flavoured the room, for there was never any sign of human life. Had he have been invisible one could say the room was empty. He was a silent bee, a lame cockroach, he didn't make a sound. He was the man in Room 17. He was not like everyone else; everyone else lived in another room. Their minds held prisoners of dense mathematics and they had the anatomy of cardboard. Siv wasn't like them, no. He couldn't be. He hadn't arrived here by choice, and he was going to find a way out.
His surname was in fact not his own, his filthy mother had called him Clements. During his age of supervision people had referred to him as Siv Spencer Clements, he could overhear the grown-ups talking about a Siv Spencer Clements being 'donated' to the workforce. He was an object, a stone that had a blank mind, and it could sit there for hours without moving a limb. Clements, a disgusting performance of what one foolish woman had produced. He was not Siv Spencer Clements, he was Siv Spencer Theophane. Theophane was a name he had found in an ancient Greek text that had sprawled itself across the computer screen one morning, Saint Theophanes was an 8th-century chronicler from Constantinople and his name had meant 'manifestation of God'. This was what Siv was, an early manifestation of the idiotic undesirable men of the continuing mankind. Siv was going to break free in the most indefiable way; he was just going to walk out.
He opened the door to Room 17 and stepped out into the cold corridor, he felt a transformation within himself as the agenda zone burnt to crisp in it's worth. Siv was going to bigger places now, and he could not wait to get there. His white coat floated above the floor as he paced carefully down the south corridor. He didn't look back, not even to close the door to Room 17. He placed the palms of his hands against the white stone wall, trying to find the hidden doorway when he heard a voice come from behind him.
"Just where do you think your going seventeen?"
Human beings were lascivious lechers, driven by selfish desire and reproduction was the end result. Siv hadn't known his parents, but he deducted from how they had left him there that he was not a love child, nor a loved child. The one thing he could not reach a conclusion for, was why he had been left here. Why not an orphanage or a distant relative? Why a place full of strangers and isolation? Not that it mattered now. He lived each day and he slept well each night. His speech was misspoken and his body was still - he needed not to communicate with anyone but himself - he understood himself perfectly. He sat there in silence, the grounds were relaxed. He heard no noise from the corridors, the silence was enough to drive anyone mad with frustration.
A sigh escaped his lips and flavoured the room, for there was never any sign of human life. Had he have been invisible one could say the room was empty. He was a silent bee, a lame cockroach, he didn't make a sound. He was the man in Room 17. He was not like everyone else; everyone else lived in another room. Their minds held prisoners of dense mathematics and they had the anatomy of cardboard. Siv wasn't like them, no. He couldn't be. He hadn't arrived here by choice, and he was going to find a way out.
His surname was in fact not his own, his filthy mother had called him Clements. During his age of supervision people had referred to him as Siv Spencer Clements, he could overhear the grown-ups talking about a Siv Spencer Clements being 'donated' to the workforce. He was an object, a stone that had a blank mind, and it could sit there for hours without moving a limb. Clements, a disgusting performance of what one foolish woman had produced. He was not Siv Spencer Clements, he was Siv Spencer Theophane. Theophane was a name he had found in an ancient Greek text that had sprawled itself across the computer screen one morning, Saint Theophanes was an 8th-century chronicler from Constantinople and his name had meant 'manifestation of God'. This was what Siv was, an early manifestation of the idiotic undesirable men of the continuing mankind. Siv was going to break free in the most indefiable way; he was just going to walk out.
He opened the door to Room 17 and stepped out into the cold corridor, he felt a transformation within himself as the agenda zone burnt to crisp in it's worth. Siv was going to bigger places now, and he could not wait to get there. His white coat floated above the floor as he paced carefully down the south corridor. He didn't look back, not even to close the door to Room 17. He placed the palms of his hands against the white stone wall, trying to find the hidden doorway when he heard a voice come from behind him.
"Just where do you think your going seventeen?"