in the infirmary. The doctors put it down to a fever. Yeah right...
According to my clock it’s 7:00PM in the evening, but it surely can’t be more than 4:00PM right now. Having naught else to do with myself, and too weak to do anything productive (like screaming) I opened my Bible and gave reading it another try. I used to read it all the time, but after trying to discuss it with one of my warders one day, it was soon made clear to me that none of what I’d read was supposed to be in the Bible.
Confused at this, I’d asked the man to come see for himself. Obviously deciding to humor me, thinking I was just being crazy, he decided to read a few passages for me from John, about the importance of being truthful. That confused me even more, for I’d never heard of a book in the Bible called ‘John’. Intrigued once the warden had left, I flipped through the Book looking for any mention of this John character. But I couldn’t find him.
It was after that when I began to distrust the Book and first noticed it watching me. Even now, as I open it and read over the book of Demon’s, I wonder if what I see is true or if the Book is lying to me. I will reproduce a verse or two here just so that there is some proof of what I say. Though perhaps it’s just proof that I’m crazy, ha ha.
Demons 1:23-25: For if anyone is a hearer and not a doer, he is like a man looking in a mirror. For once he has looked at himself and gone away, he is no longer himself. But one who looks intently at liberty and abides it, has not become a forgetful hearer but a doer. This man will be blessed in all he chooses.
I’m not exactly sure what that means, but it speaks of liberty, which I’m dear in need of. And ever since reading that verse I’ve tried to avoid looking at mirrors, just in case. Not that I’ve ever been allowed to own one.
Anyways, today I decided to try reading over the book of Merits, hoping if nothing else that it would stop the Book from looking at me. Merits talked all about making your own way in the world, doing what you thought was right, etc. Kind of a do-it-yourself code of morals. It didn’t feel entirely right to me, but I had nothing else to go on so I went with it.
After a while, not feeling very inspired, I put the Book back on my shelf and donned my Snoopy Cap. Wearing that made me feel a whole lot better than reading the Book ever did. I picked up my Pocket Watch too and lay back in bed fiddling with it for a while. I turned the hands first right, and then left, then back and forth. Just to watch them move more than anything else. It made me sort of happy.
Until, that is, I heard a heavy thump from over near my shelf. I turned to see the Book lying on the floor. But I knew it hadn’t fallen. It had jumped... By reading it I had only encouraged it further.
Starting to feel angry, I hopped off my bed, walked over and picked it roughly up from the ground, and slammed it back into place on my little shelf. I watched it for a moment, but it didn’t move. Slightly mollified, I crawled back into bed and decided I might as well try and get some sleep.
I was just starting to nod off when I heard a thump, a papery rustle, and then silence. I cracked one eye open suspiciously and then both went wide with alarm as I saw the Book sitting innocently on the edge of my bed.
Enraged beyond measure at this wicked thing, I leaped upon it, picking it up and looking for somewhere to throw it. My eyes chanced upon my untrustworthy wall clock and I smiled. Winding up my arm, I threw it, hoping to end both of these evils in one moment of rage.
The Book was on a direct course towards the Clock and I was so sure it would connect. But I swear on my Snoopy Cap itself, that the Clock actually moved upwards, all the way to the top of the wall. It avoided my attack completely.
I doubt that I have ever been quite as angry in my life as I was then, so furious I was completely unable to move, just boiling over inside. I fully believe that I went into some kind of seizure during that period, because the next thing I remember is Doctor Flagham leaning over me and asking if everything was alright.
Getting unsteadily to my feet, I waved a quivering finger at the Clock, telling him all about what it had just done. It was then to my exquisite horror, that I noticed the Clock was right back where it had always been. I glanced over towards the bed and noticed that the Book was sitting smugly on the edge of it. I knew that if I had dared to open it, its eye would be staring right at me.
The only thing that had remained where it should have was my faithful Snoopy Cap, loyally stuck to my head. Near tears, I asked Hammy that whatever happened to me, to please, please, please never take my Snoopy Cap.
"Alright, Nil," he said calmly, leading me by the hand over to my bed. He actually looked quite concerned about me, which I guess meant a small something.
"Please?" I said quietly.
"I’ll be sure that nothing happens to it, I know how much it means to you. Now why don’t you get some rest? I’ll return in a little while to make sure you’re doing okay."
I nodded. In case I did break out in tears, I’d prefer to be alone at least. Preserve what tiny dignity I had left and all that.
"Hey, Hammy?" I asked as he opened the door.
"Yes, Nil?" he replied, turning back to meet my gaze.
"Thanks."
Dr. Flagham almost looked embarrassed, like he was undeserving of any appreciation for his kindnesses.
"Anytime, Nil. Just... hang in there." and he was gone, closing the door quietly behind him.
As soon as he left, I put the Book under the mattress where I wouldn’t have to look at it. I then crossed my arms, stuck out my tongue, and stared defiantly at the Clock. For once it seemed to be telling the correct time, 5:15PM. Thought it was probably only doing so for Hammy’s sake, so that he wouldn’t know it had been lying.
I heard a rustling sound and for a moment thought it was coming from inside the walls again. But then to my relief, Mousy crawled out from under the bed, peeking up over the side and making his way over to my hand. He always made that rustling sound, even though there was nothing to rustle. It was just his way, I guess.
I scooped him up in my hand and brought him up to eyelevel. Mousy is a weird sort of fellow, about half a foot tall and looking something like an elongated rat, but slightly gooey as if made out of jelly. I certainly don’t trust him, but he’s never done anything bad to me as of yet, so I sort of count him as a friend.
"So, where have you been?" I asked him pointedly.
He made that rustling sound again, like a rodent stirring in the bottom of a wastepaper basket.
"You could at least try squeaking or something you know, normal mouse noises."
He rustled solemnly. I felt like he at least tried to squeak, so I guess he earns points for that.
"What’s up, Mousy, why did you come out of hiding?"
He rustled once more, hopped out of my hand and scurried down the side of the bed. I hesitated for a moment, but then realized I had nothing else going on so I might as well see what he was up to.
Mousy led me over to a slightly dark patch in the wall, as if the plaster had been water damaged. He looked at it pointedly, then at me, then back at the patch in the wall. Shrugging, I knelt down and poked at it.
It wobbled just slightly as if also made of jelly, and then collapsed inwards, revealing a hole just big enough for me to stick my hand into. Against all better judgment, I did so, pushing my hand deep into the interiors of the wall.
I moved my hand back and forth, like a kid rummaging for the snicker doodles in the cookie jar, until it encountered something smooth and hard that felt different from the surrounding textures. I pulled on it, nearly falling back in surprise when I found it was loose and not even attached to the wall. Carefully, so as not to damage whatever this strange object was, I pulled it towards me until it clacked against the other side of the wall. It wouldn’t fit...
Before I could twist it around to try and pull it out from another angle, I heard the soft tread of footsteps approaching the room to my door. I pulled my hand out just as the door opened, Hammy walki
ng through holding a tray with a bowl of what looked like soup and a glass of water.
"What were you doing?" he asked in a concerned voice, stepping over so that he stood beside me.
"Nothing!" I replied quickly, standing up and trying to cover the hole I stood in front of.
"What were you doing to the wall?" he said, gently nudging me aside and leaning down to look at the hole. He ran his hands over the area with the hole in it, somehow missing the hole itself. Flagham stood up after a moment and stared oddly at me.
"Is there something wrong with the wall?" he asked.
I just stared back, amazed that he hadn’t spotted the hole.
"Err, I guess not," I replied, deciding to lie. Lying was usually my best recourse. I glanced briefly around for Mousy, but he didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight.
"Are you alright?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in question.
"Err, yeah, just dandy. Sorry, I... uh... was just taking in the remarkable... texture... of the wall!"
Hammy continued staring.
"Are you sure you’re okay?"
"It’s just been a rough day. Um, how about I get some sleep? I’m sure I’ll feel bundles better after a proper night’s rest."
"Well, if you’re sure..." he replied hesitantly.
I nodded encouragingly and crawled back in bed.
"I’ll be back in the morning to check on you, alright? In case you’re catching a fever or