Tuesday, June 21, 2016
My car on the side of the free way on a curved over pass. Yellow car plates of the government screaming out danger. Layla just called me saying something like that she was going into hiding. I get out of my car and the man gets out of his yellow plated car. He's dressed in some white, he's got the most intimidating pinkie's length pocket knife in his right hand non convincingly saying something like he wishes he didn't have to do this or that he was sorry. I was preoccupied listening to his eyes and hands to hear. My car having battery issues, I admit running might be the best way to go around it. Layla show's up, her message of staying in the clear for awhile, taking a vacation was all for possible bugs in the phones. We don't know how woven into the system might be. She raises her fist, saving me from this man is her top priority but of course she also doesn't want to be this mans centre of attention. I think about striking out at the most sensitive of male parts. We get away.
It occurs to me that back at the hospital when you visit they require you to at least put a gown over your clothes to visit in with the patients, but they were out. All the patients were either gone or jealous of us not having to layer up. Come to think of it, we realize as we start up my barely turning over car we were close to ending up in a locked box on the side of the road mistaking the movement for an animal. That's how they disposed of them. Metal cabinets beneath underpasses in the ghettos, or refrigerators in junk yards. They were already gone so even if you noticed it, you still left them in there, seizure after seizure until your brain fried itself to death. And if you stopped to help we figured you ended up on some kind of radar.
Some of them were let loose into society before terminal convulsion. We saw this at a near by gas station. I still thought I had a home at the time and was adamant about getting back even though it was forty minutes away and god only knew what was waiting back there. It's possible they got Bill. Even if I called, it could send them out there. The frizzy haired man in white was by no means their best man, we understood that.
So we went to get gas. Left her vehicle, left the man in white. I was going to go into the store by myself and we laughed at the idea like Velma probably laughed at Fred's plans, put our hands together and went in. There were enough women in there to hold a prostitution ring meeting, they were all early releases and I figured they just wandered as homeless. There was nothing we could do and tried not to make contact.
Gas filled we took off into what felt like a win but understood silently we could still end up in a locked metal box or retarded and those were just the two options we knew about. I asked her if she knew how to get home, she didn't. I pull out my phone and use the google maps. I suspect that was when we lost the war.
*D.J.E. = Dream Journal Entry
*Name's changed as this is a fictitious world
Inspired by: Jacob's Ladder, Mean Streets, Terminator, and Detoxification