WRITE CLUB 1/12/13 (Fillet of Solo Festival)
Bout: Art vs. Science
My Topic: Science
My Opponent: Kait Ziegler, Art
(no charities for this show)
Bout: Art vs. Science
My Topic: Science
My Opponent: Kait Ziegler, Art
(no charities for this show)
WRITE CLUB 1/12/13 (Fillet of Solo Festival)
Bout: Art vs. Science
My Topic: Science
My Opponent: Kait Ziegler, Art
(no charities for this show)
"What's your name, pretty?"
The nurse hit Lain again on the top of the head, using the flat of her palm--it stung and somehow repeated on the inside of her skull. Is that even possible? And it was degrading. I'm a fucking adult. She thought. She dragged her eyes open to avoid another blow.
"Oo-ee she sure does shoot dirty looks, though!" said the other nurse, the one holding the cup of black liquid.
Lain shot her a dirty look, too. Just for talking.
"Hey.” Repeated the first nurse. “What. Is your name?" Repeated the nurse.
I have a name. She thought. I HAVE A NAME. She thought. It's...
BAM--another blow right on top of the head. That bitch.
"Lain..." she said, now sitting upright in the bed, wrists restrained, eyes open, but still unfocused. "Lain. Lain. That's my name."
The nurse wrote it down. Somewhere in her mind Lain remembered a joke about rhymes and misspellings. Then it was gone. The nurse pounded out of the room, barking over her shoulder to the other one with the cup: "Hurry up before she blacks out again."
Lain realized she was in a place. Not floating in the nowhere, or the in-between. She was definitely somewhere. Definitely in a too-bright room, in a city hospital, and definitely having liquid charcoal forced down her throat.
"Glugh!—Lugh.." Lain choked.
"All of it, pretty." said the second nurse, refusing to let go of the cup--pushing its plastic edge so far into Lain’s mouth that her jaw locked, her lips stretched, cracked and bled. Lain had no room for noise except to gag, her arms jerking without her permission, tears filming across her eyes.
"All done." the nurse recited. Lain felt like her neck had been stuck folded back on itself for hours. She tilted forward carefully, reeling. She sat with her legs folded, could feel the residue grains collect behind her molars, settle between her teeth and tickle the back of her throat. She pressed her jaw closed, feeling the fine sand grit on her teeth, and her eyes started to drift again.
"Lain. Lain. Open your eyes."
"Beth?"
Beth’s here.
Lain remembered everything, but the recall was out of order and in weird colors and shapes. And Lain would just as soon not think about it. She really wanted to just take a nap.
"I need your phone." Beth repeated. Was she repeating? Had she said that already? "Where is your phone."
Lain's eyes were closing again.
"On the counter, with her keys." Said the second nurse. "You might wanna step out, though, you won't want this in your memory banks."
Beth left with the phone.
Lain didn't want her to go, but her mouth was too heavy with all that silt.
She didn't feel so good.
But she didn't say anything.
Fuck that nurse.
….
....
Ok, she really didn't feel good--
Black oil spilled from her mouth into her lap, pooling at an inconceivable rate, her hospital gown sagging warmly, sickeningly, onto her folded legs and she enjoyed a half-choke of air just before the second wave of black spouted from her throat and the pool in her lap began soaking through the gown.
*gasp*
OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD
She was screaming in her mind.
Let me breathe! Please let me breathe!!
Lain was choking, her body overdosing on adrenaline, eyes bulging, skin electrified—as a nurse placed the belated plastic pan under her chin.
There's nothing left! Lain tried to churn out the words when another unexpected wave hit. More black, more black, then on the third heave, a soupy, syrupy cloudy yellow.
"THERE we go..." said the nurse, patting Lain's back. Like they were suddenly FUCKING FRIENDS.
Her middle clutched and clutched until nothing came but empty heaves. Lain fell back on the reclined bed, abdominals, obliques and intercostals burning. Lungs like hot rocks and an acid-stained throat. She registered the black spatters across her arms and down her front with disinterest and felt the oily river between her legs seep from her gown and re-pool beneath her.
The nurse, on her way out with the plastic pan, bumped into Beth on the way in, almost splashing her with the contents. Beth regarded Lain with resigned disgust. Lain realized that her mouth, chin and neck were probably streaked with black. In a moment of complete absence, Lain grinned at her, showing off what surely seemed a mouth full of muddled, black shapes, instead of teeth.
Beth looked at her with resigned disgust. She had her purse on. And her coat over her arm.
“BETH…” Lain whispered urgently, casting a secretive glace at the door. “What year is it??"
Beth's face went white. Then scarlet. Her mouth hung open and she began to shake. Lain thought she looked like one of those motorized Victorian caroler dolls that hold little candles, with their rosy cheeks, and mouths in perfect "O"s.
"YOU KNOW WHAT YEAR IT IS." Beth raged "YOU. DIDN'T. GO. ANYWHERE." She slammed her purse on the foot of the hospital bed. Her open palm shot out and slapped Lain so quickly, so sharply that one of her nails raked Lain’s left eye before it could close.
"YOU TOOK ENOUGH OF THAT SHIT TO KILL YOURSELF." Beth screamed. "I FOUND YOU, VACANT-EYED, AND SUCKING BREATH ON THE FLOOR OF YOUR FUCKING LAB. I CALLED 9-1-1, I LET THE EMT'S IN AND HELPED THEM PILE YOU IN TO AN AMBULANCE WHILE YOU SCREAMED ABOUT YOUR RIGHT TO REFUSE TREATMENT. I WENT UPSTAIRS TO YOUR APARTMENT AND FED YOUR DOG BEFORE COMING HERE TO WATCH YOU, FLAILING AND SENSELESS, WHILE NURSES TIED YOU TO THE BED WITH ZIPTIES--”
Warm blood trickled down Lain’s cheek, her eye rapidly puffing closed. She watched Beth lose steam and give up. Emotions chased across her face before she spat out "Done." And left as yet another nurse came into the room—this one dashing unceremoniously right up into Lain’s face.
"Oh man, way worse than I thought." Said the nurse. Lain shot a dirty look at this one, too. Till she realized who she was looking at.
“Like the disguise?” The nurse asked. She had a gaudily beaded eyepatch, too much makeup and one hell of an attitude. And. She had Lain’s face.
She cut Lain’s zipties, freeing her wrists. Then leaned uncomfortably close to look at Lain’s swollen eye.
“FYI, it doesn’t heal right and you end up with this gem.” She taps the eyepatch.
Lain stared into the face of her future self.
“Also, you’re gonna need a higher concentration of beryllium. Half a nanogram should do it, but you’ll have to steal Mom’s emeralds.”
‘Nurse Lain’ grinned wickedly.
“Oh, girl. You are gonna have. So. Much. Fun.”
Bout: Art vs. Science
My Topic: Science
My Opponent: Kait Ziegler, Art
(no charities for this show)
"What's your name, pretty?"
The nurse hit Lain again on the top of the head, using the flat of her palm--it stung and somehow repeated on the inside of her skull. Is that even possible? And it was degrading. I'm a fucking adult. She thought. She dragged her eyes open to avoid another blow.
"Oo-ee she sure does shoot dirty looks, though!" said the other nurse, the one holding the cup of black liquid.
Lain shot her a dirty look, too. Just for talking.
"Hey.” Repeated the first nurse. “What. Is your name?" Repeated the nurse.
I have a name. She thought. I HAVE A NAME. She thought. It's...
BAM--another blow right on top of the head. That bitch.
"Lain..." she said, now sitting upright in the bed, wrists restrained, eyes open, but still unfocused. "Lain. Lain. That's my name."
The nurse wrote it down. Somewhere in her mind Lain remembered a joke about rhymes and misspellings. Then it was gone. The nurse pounded out of the room, barking over her shoulder to the other one with the cup: "Hurry up before she blacks out again."
Lain realized she was in a place. Not floating in the nowhere, or the in-between. She was definitely somewhere. Definitely in a too-bright room, in a city hospital, and definitely having liquid charcoal forced down her throat.
"Glugh!—Lugh.." Lain choked.
"All of it, pretty." said the second nurse, refusing to let go of the cup--pushing its plastic edge so far into Lain’s mouth that her jaw locked, her lips stretched, cracked and bled. Lain had no room for noise except to gag, her arms jerking without her permission, tears filming across her eyes.
"All done." the nurse recited. Lain felt like her neck had been stuck folded back on itself for hours. She tilted forward carefully, reeling. She sat with her legs folded, could feel the residue grains collect behind her molars, settle between her teeth and tickle the back of her throat. She pressed her jaw closed, feeling the fine sand grit on her teeth, and her eyes started to drift again.
"Lain. Lain. Open your eyes."
"Beth?"
Beth’s here.
Lain remembered everything, but the recall was out of order and in weird colors and shapes. And Lain would just as soon not think about it. She really wanted to just take a nap.
"I need your phone." Beth repeated. Was she repeating? Had she said that already? "Where is your phone."
Lain's eyes were closing again.
"On the counter, with her keys." Said the second nurse. "You might wanna step out, though, you won't want this in your memory banks."
Beth left with the phone.
Lain didn't want her to go, but her mouth was too heavy with all that silt.
She didn't feel so good.
But she didn't say anything.
Fuck that nurse.
….
....
Ok, she really didn't feel good--
Black oil spilled from her mouth into her lap, pooling at an inconceivable rate, her hospital gown sagging warmly, sickeningly, onto her folded legs and she enjoyed a half-choke of air just before the second wave of black spouted from her throat and the pool in her lap began soaking through the gown.
*gasp*
OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD
She was screaming in her mind.
Let me breathe! Please let me breathe!!
Lain was choking, her body overdosing on adrenaline, eyes bulging, skin electrified—as a nurse placed the belated plastic pan under her chin.
There's nothing left! Lain tried to churn out the words when another unexpected wave hit. More black, more black, then on the third heave, a soupy, syrupy cloudy yellow.
"THERE we go..." said the nurse, patting Lain's back. Like they were suddenly FUCKING FRIENDS.
Her middle clutched and clutched until nothing came but empty heaves. Lain fell back on the reclined bed, abdominals, obliques and intercostals burning. Lungs like hot rocks and an acid-stained throat. She registered the black spatters across her arms and down her front with disinterest and felt the oily river between her legs seep from her gown and re-pool beneath her.
The nurse, on her way out with the plastic pan, bumped into Beth on the way in, almost splashing her with the contents. Beth regarded Lain with resigned disgust. Lain realized that her mouth, chin and neck were probably streaked with black. In a moment of complete absence, Lain grinned at her, showing off what surely seemed a mouth full of muddled, black shapes, instead of teeth.
Beth looked at her with resigned disgust. She had her purse on. And her coat over her arm.
“BETH…” Lain whispered urgently, casting a secretive glace at the door. “What year is it??"
Beth's face went white. Then scarlet. Her mouth hung open and she began to shake. Lain thought she looked like one of those motorized Victorian caroler dolls that hold little candles, with their rosy cheeks, and mouths in perfect "O"s.
"YOU KNOW WHAT YEAR IT IS." Beth raged "YOU. DIDN'T. GO. ANYWHERE." She slammed her purse on the foot of the hospital bed. Her open palm shot out and slapped Lain so quickly, so sharply that one of her nails raked Lain’s left eye before it could close.
"YOU TOOK ENOUGH OF THAT SHIT TO KILL YOURSELF." Beth screamed. "I FOUND YOU, VACANT-EYED, AND SUCKING BREATH ON THE FLOOR OF YOUR FUCKING LAB. I CALLED 9-1-1, I LET THE EMT'S IN AND HELPED THEM PILE YOU IN TO AN AMBULANCE WHILE YOU SCREAMED ABOUT YOUR RIGHT TO REFUSE TREATMENT. I WENT UPSTAIRS TO YOUR APARTMENT AND FED YOUR DOG BEFORE COMING HERE TO WATCH YOU, FLAILING AND SENSELESS, WHILE NURSES TIED YOU TO THE BED WITH ZIPTIES--”
Warm blood trickled down Lain’s cheek, her eye rapidly puffing closed. She watched Beth lose steam and give up. Emotions chased across her face before she spat out "Done." And left as yet another nurse came into the room—this one dashing unceremoniously right up into Lain’s face.
"Oh man, way worse than I thought." Said the nurse. Lain shot a dirty look at this one, too. Till she realized who she was looking at.
“Like the disguise?” The nurse asked. She had a gaudily beaded eyepatch, too much makeup and one hell of an attitude. And. She had Lain’s face.
She cut Lain’s zipties, freeing her wrists. Then leaned uncomfortably close to look at Lain’s swollen eye.
“FYI, it doesn’t heal right and you end up with this gem.” She taps the eyepatch.
Lain stared into the face of her future self.
“Also, you’re gonna need a higher concentration of beryllium. Half a nanogram should do it, but you’ll have to steal Mom’s emeralds.”
‘Nurse Lain’ grinned wickedly.
“Oh, girl. You are gonna have. So. Much. Fun.”
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