Pain, that is the one constant in my life.
joy, sadness, love, hate, they are sporadic and short lived.
when you get right down to it, pain is all i have.
my earliest memory is pain, a hand holding mine, too tight, it hurts.
then, a loud noise, the hand goes away. i'm alone, my hand still hurts, and it won't work right. my fingers are not supposed to bend that way, and neither is my leg.
the ringing wont go away, it keeps me from hearing what the man says. he looks worried.
i wake up in a bed, a white room, a strong smell stinging my nose. they call it some big word, anniesempic or something. the smell hurts, but not as bad as my leg, or my hand, or my head. the ringing is still there, but i can hear the man now. he is too loud, his voice hurts my ears.
then, i remember standing in the cold, the suit itches, the seams hurt when i move, and my face stings from the cold.
they lower a box into the ground. they say my mother is in the box, i don't remember having a mother.
i just remember my hand hurting.
the people around me mutter, talking about someone named Richard. asking how he could do that to his son and wife.
i don't see Richard, or his wife and son. i don't know why they are talking about him, and why they keep looking at me. the man asks if i'm alright, i tell him i'm cold, and the suit hurts.
the man takes me to a big house, there are other kids there, i don't like them.
when the man leaves, they hurt me, they punch and kick, one pulls my hair, another bites me.
they stop when they hear footsteps. an old woman comes in. she yells at me and slaps me. i don't like her.
a man comes and talks to the mean lady, he writes on something and hands her some green paper. then he takes me with him.
i don't like him, i can't remember why.
it had something to do with the kool aid he would give me, it tasted weird, and made me sleepy.
i would wake up later, it hurt in weird places.
one time, i woke up in a different place. the man who took me was being yelled at by people dressed in blue outfits. they gave him some shiny bracelets and took him away.
i went back to the mean old lady.
the next memory i have is the other boys hurting me again. i wanted them to stop, so i hurt them.
they stopped hurting me. but the old lady didn't.
another man came to take me, but this one was nice. he and his wife never hit me. and when i would flinch because i thought they were going to hit me, they felt bad and hugged me.
i liked them.
years later, i was still living with them, their names were David and Sara. they treated me like their son, so i treated them like my parents.
the ringing came back, so i told them. they were worried and took me to a doctor.
the doctor said something was wrong with my head, he used a really big word. skitsofrinio or something. he asked if i heard voices in my head sometimes. i told him i did, i always did. i thought it was normal.
they gave me weird tasting things called pills. they tasted kinda like the kool aid the mean man gave me. people get upset when i talk about that, so i didn't tell David or Sara.
much later, when i went to middle school, the pain started again. people found out about my schizophrenia, and they made fun of me for it. it didn't matter to them how i felt, they just kept pushing me around. the voices told me to push back, so i did. but, i got in trouble. people were yelling at me, and David and Sara cried. so i didn't push back again.
in eighth grade, bad people hurt me and Sara while David was away. they pulled out a piece of metal and cut me with it. the pain was so bad i fainted. when i woke up, the men were on the floor, and the piece of metal was in my hand. i was covered in blood, and Sara was screaming.
men in blue clothes took me from David and Sara. they asked questions and ran tests. but they didn't find what they wanted. so they gave me back.
later on. in high school. people didn't bother me as much, they were scared of me. but there was still pain. some people wanted to hurt me. and i let them. i didn't want to make anybody mad. but then i would black out and people got mad anyway. according to them, when i black out i hurt people. i become someone else. i don't believe them, the bullys just made stuff up to cover their assess.
when i was a sophomore. more people came into my house. when i got home from school, David and Sara were on the ground, dead. and some men with guns were taking things from my house. i screamed, and so did the voices, they were so loud it hurt and i... i killed them all.
i smirked a bit at the expression on the mans face
"and so, that's why i'm in here. i killed 13 men."
i cleared my throat
"so, do you still want to make that deal with me? to be what, a merc?"
the man smiled
"yes, yes i do."
"well, okay then."
the man stood up and shook my hand.
"welcome to project G.E.A.R., i expect great things from you Mitchell."
"huh, thats a first."