A homeless man watched, with curiosity, at the young man across from him. Like an ape, he was covered in hair, and the fact that the ape didn’t look too smart either passed though the homeless man’s mind. He watched closely as if waiting for the ape to stand up, reach over, and strangle him. The man was so concentrated on the ape’s movements that he almost jumped when the ape scratched his arm. The homeless man was not the only person whose attention was drawn to the ape. The strangers’ stares were not hidden; they were openly, and offensively, obvious. The eyes’ were glued to the animal’s face which was covered in scars, that were somewhat hidden beneath a layer of soot. He repeatedly picked at the bubbles of skin on his hands, which exploded with pus. Whenever they did so, a rough laugh bellowed from the ape. He remembered the feeling. The bubbles still burned as if on fire and it made him frivolous with excitement. These sounds that protruded from his belly, made the strangers shiver while they checked their watches, humorously synchronized.
The ball of fire in the sky had fallen by the time the ape stepped off the train and he was greeted with a cold gust of wind that chilled him to the bone. He preferred to play with fire when the eyes were not watching. They were always watching when the sky was ablaze. They relied on fire as he did, given this he chose to avoid hurting anyone with his flames. His hands were starting to itch. He wiped the pus off on his pants and headed towards the flashing sign in a bar’s window. The bar was one of those places where people went if they couldn’t get into the nicer bars, but in most cases you went there if you wanted to get shit faced. A man at the front door allowed the ape in right away and turned to the people in line to deal with their complaints, but stopped himself, the people were not complaining and he smirked. It didn’t surprise him. The ape just looked like one of those guys that you didn’t pick a fight with, if you did, you might as well pick out your coffin and it could be a cheap coffin, something around the size of an empty water jug, because the guy would likely beat you into a bloody pulp.
The ape sat in the corner and bellowed to the bartender to make him something strong. Waiting for his drink to come, the ape’s eyes fixed on his hands again. The waitress arrived with his drink, but he didn’t notice that it had come until he looked up to see the glass on the edge of the scuffed tabletop. Finishing his drink, the ape looked across the smoke filled room, when his eyes fixed on a large man who stood up from his table and walked to the bar.
He knew the ape had seen him. That was whom he was hired to find. He began counting which gave the ape some time to come to the bar himself, but after exactly three minutes he turned, walked over and sat at the ape’s table.
“How ya been?” He asked rhetorically and with a cheerful voice as if they were old friends. The only thing that proved the falseness of his mask were his piercing eyes, which at the time were shooting daggers at the ape, who chose not to answer.
“Do you have a name?” This time the man spoke with apparent slowness, as if it’s very point was to send the ape over the edge. The question seemed to make the man smile, a smile which grew bigger and bigger after every second of silence. After a few moments, the ape saw who this man really was and panic rose up his stomach, up his throat and into his mouth, and then he recognized that it was actually vomit. The back of the ape’s throat was stinging. The man was getting too comfortable with his charade and the ape knew more questions were to come. The ape swallowed the vomit and stood up. The man stopped smiling.
“You are not supposed to leave the facility.” And with that, the man picked up his cell phone and dialed a number. The ape did not stick around to find out who would pick up on the other end. He grabbed the table, ignoring his bubbled hands, and flipped it, crushing the man on the other side. He couldn’t stop himself, his eye’s caught sight of a whiskey bottle and he smashed it on the man’s head. Then lit a match. The flame stopped time and it felt heavier and heavier in the ape’s hand. It became too much to tolerate, so he let it drop.
Without looking back and with screams ringing in his ears, the ape ran through the door and down the street. He was choking on his tears, but didn’t dare stop to catch his breath. He had hurt again. He swore he would never hurt again. His hands were on fire and the scent of burning flesh reached his nostrils. And there was no need to remember, the feeling came back again, and he was laughing.
The motel room was the best the ape could find in his condition. He needed a place to hide away from the men who would come for him, the men that would take his freedom away. Like firemen, they would extinguish his fires and take him away. Then put him back in a room where he could only watch as the bubbles on his hand disappeared and the feeling went away. So, he sat on the bed of the motel room and tried desperately to remember the feeling as it was now, to make sure that he would never forget it. And so, he wouldn’t have to hurt again to get it back.
The television was on. The ape did not remember turning it on. It was the news, in the hospital they were not allowed to watch the news. The ape was immediately fixed to it. The sound was off and a video that was unsteady replaced the face of the pretty news lady. The ape managed to catch -SCAPE FROM ZOO, CAGE LEFT OPEN, as it rolled across the screen. The footage showed a gang of gunmen who were chasing after some kind of animals. The cameraman was running. The ape, with a smile on his face and transfixed to the screen, moved closer to the edge of the bed as if the motion would improve the quality of the video. The cameraman caught up with the gunmen, just in time to see one of the men shoot a monkey in the head. The ape didn’t look away. He wanted to, but knew that if he did, wherever he looked, he would see the very same image in front of him. Just as cruel and as painfully blunt, as it was a few second before. Wherever he looked he would see innocent eyes, eyes that looked into a barrel of a gun and could not fathom why they were having the right to see taken away. All the animals could do was run and the ape man screamed as the second monkey received a bullet in the head by the same gunman. Running got them nowhere. They were running in this world, this hell we created for them. Punishing them for our inability to understand that all life is equal. The gunmen couldn’t see that the animals’ hearts beat like theirs, thought the ape, the one thing that gunmen ignored as they killed them and smiled as the blood pooled at their feet, the feet of lesser men.
The ape could not stand it anymore. His screams were not unheard by the other guests as he picked up the television and threw it against the wall. It fell to the ground in a heap of glass and drywall. But the picture was not gone. It filled the screen again. The ape lit the bed on fire and crawled into a ball on the ground, his eyes still fixed on the television. Seeing the innocent eyes, just as the world went black, eyes that did not look into the gunman’s, they looked to the sky, into beauty and to freedom.
That’s how the young man was found, almost burned alive and staring off into space. The doctor gave him a shoot to put him to sleep and returned him to the facility. Where he could only watch as the walls bled and his hands burned with imaginary fire, while waiting patiently, living day after day, year after year, until the world went black.
The ball of fire in the sky had fallen by the time the ape stepped off the train and he was greeted with a cold gust of wind that chilled him to the bone. He preferred to play with fire when the eyes were not watching. They were always watching when the sky was ablaze. They relied on fire as he did, given this he chose to avoid hurting anyone with his flames. His hands were starting to itch. He wiped the pus off on his pants and headed towards the flashing sign in a bar’s window. The bar was one of those places where people went if they couldn’t get into the nicer bars, but in most cases you went there if you wanted to get shit faced. A man at the front door allowed the ape in right away and turned to the people in line to deal with their complaints, but stopped himself, the people were not complaining and he smirked. It didn’t surprise him. The ape just looked like one of those guys that you didn’t pick a fight with, if you did, you might as well pick out your coffin and it could be a cheap coffin, something around the size of an empty water jug, because the guy would likely beat you into a bloody pulp.
The ape sat in the corner and bellowed to the bartender to make him something strong. Waiting for his drink to come, the ape’s eyes fixed on his hands again. The waitress arrived with his drink, but he didn’t notice that it had come until he looked up to see the glass on the edge of the scuffed tabletop. Finishing his drink, the ape looked across the smoke filled room, when his eyes fixed on a large man who stood up from his table and walked to the bar.
He knew the ape had seen him. That was whom he was hired to find. He began counting which gave the ape some time to come to the bar himself, but after exactly three minutes he turned, walked over and sat at the ape’s table.
“How ya been?” He asked rhetorically and with a cheerful voice as if they were old friends. The only thing that proved the falseness of his mask were his piercing eyes, which at the time were shooting daggers at the ape, who chose not to answer.
“Do you have a name?” This time the man spoke with apparent slowness, as if it’s very point was to send the ape over the edge. The question seemed to make the man smile, a smile which grew bigger and bigger after every second of silence. After a few moments, the ape saw who this man really was and panic rose up his stomach, up his throat and into his mouth, and then he recognized that it was actually vomit. The back of the ape’s throat was stinging. The man was getting too comfortable with his charade and the ape knew more questions were to come. The ape swallowed the vomit and stood up. The man stopped smiling.
“You are not supposed to leave the facility.” And with that, the man picked up his cell phone and dialed a number. The ape did not stick around to find out who would pick up on the other end. He grabbed the table, ignoring his bubbled hands, and flipped it, crushing the man on the other side. He couldn’t stop himself, his eye’s caught sight of a whiskey bottle and he smashed it on the man’s head. Then lit a match. The flame stopped time and it felt heavier and heavier in the ape’s hand. It became too much to tolerate, so he let it drop.
Without looking back and with screams ringing in his ears, the ape ran through the door and down the street. He was choking on his tears, but didn’t dare stop to catch his breath. He had hurt again. He swore he would never hurt again. His hands were on fire and the scent of burning flesh reached his nostrils. And there was no need to remember, the feeling came back again, and he was laughing.
The motel room was the best the ape could find in his condition. He needed a place to hide away from the men who would come for him, the men that would take his freedom away. Like firemen, they would extinguish his fires and take him away. Then put him back in a room where he could only watch as the bubbles on his hand disappeared and the feeling went away. So, he sat on the bed of the motel room and tried desperately to remember the feeling as it was now, to make sure that he would never forget it. And so, he wouldn’t have to hurt again to get it back.
The television was on. The ape did not remember turning it on. It was the news, in the hospital they were not allowed to watch the news. The ape was immediately fixed to it. The sound was off and a video that was unsteady replaced the face of the pretty news lady. The ape managed to catch -SCAPE FROM ZOO, CAGE LEFT OPEN, as it rolled across the screen. The footage showed a gang of gunmen who were chasing after some kind of animals. The cameraman was running. The ape, with a smile on his face and transfixed to the screen, moved closer to the edge of the bed as if the motion would improve the quality of the video. The cameraman caught up with the gunmen, just in time to see one of the men shoot a monkey in the head. The ape didn’t look away. He wanted to, but knew that if he did, wherever he looked, he would see the very same image in front of him. Just as cruel and as painfully blunt, as it was a few second before. Wherever he looked he would see innocent eyes, eyes that looked into a barrel of a gun and could not fathom why they were having the right to see taken away. All the animals could do was run and the ape man screamed as the second monkey received a bullet in the head by the same gunman. Running got them nowhere. They were running in this world, this hell we created for them. Punishing them for our inability to understand that all life is equal. The gunmen couldn’t see that the animals’ hearts beat like theirs, thought the ape, the one thing that gunmen ignored as they killed them and smiled as the blood pooled at their feet, the feet of lesser men.
The ape could not stand it anymore. His screams were not unheard by the other guests as he picked up the television and threw it against the wall. It fell to the ground in a heap of glass and drywall. But the picture was not gone. It filled the screen again. The ape lit the bed on fire and crawled into a ball on the ground, his eyes still fixed on the television. Seeing the innocent eyes, just as the world went black, eyes that did not look into the gunman’s, they looked to the sky, into beauty and to freedom.
That’s how the young man was found, almost burned alive and staring off into space. The doctor gave him a shoot to put him to sleep and returned him to the facility. Where he could only watch as the walls bled and his hands burned with imaginary fire, while waiting patiently, living day after day, year after year, until the world went black.
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