PARTICIPANT IN A FINALISTS JAM
This Blog is an entry in the completed A Life of Steve.

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Neurotransmission

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Buttery Biscuit's Avatar Buttery Biscuit
Level 28 : Expert Taco
30


NEUROTRANSMISSION




A gentle breeze swept over the hills, billowing through dewy grass as it blew past wispy hair and contented peace. The amber sunlight that shone through the rustling leaves warmed his face. He cast an equally warm smile on his surroundings. Ravishing propriety. Resplendent symmetry. Breathtaking...


"Order"

Not one component out of place. Not one blade of grass unaccounted for. Not one curve or irregularity to throw off utter uniformity. Order is all that exists, and existence is order.

He counted and measured each block as he gazed at it with a look of utmost affection and adoration, almost as a mother adores her children. Every single piece that made up every block, he made sure to keep track of it. He even had the flow of all nearby rivers represented in algebraic functions. Everything made sense to him, and he felt entirely fulfilled.

"Bryan! Breakfast is ready!"

He rolled over, lamenting the journey from his bed to the kitchen. No, not the walk, the journey. What anyone else would consider a simple task was a burden to him. He grabbed the frame that held his bittersweet memories as he trudged out of his room. On his way down the stairs he couldn't help but stare at those pictures on the wall, not unlike the one he just put in his pocket, and the dent in the wall they had made together years ago. They'd gotten into a little scuffle over some trivial disagreement as most brothers do, and as they rolled around Harrison's foot nicked the wall. They fought frequently but could never stay angry with each other very long, the next instant they were laying out a plan together on how to calm their mother down when she found out about the wall. "What I wouldn't give to even just... Even fight with him again..." His thoughts were interrupted when his eyes caught a particular picture of them... It was crooked. He fixed it back to how it should be positioned. Even something as small as an askew picture could irritate him more than most would think is normal, or even healthy. Even the very nature of the carpet in his house, with its uneven texture and numerous fibers incessantly scratching against his feet as if to swallow them in irregularity, vexed him to no end.

Slipping on some shoes, he sat down at the kitchen table with his chair perfectly parallel to the table. His mother took a plate out of the microwave and placed it in front of him.

He sat frozen, his eyes fixed on the monstrosity before him. "A breakfast sandwich... She should know by now that I can't stand those anymore... So round, there's no logical place to take the first bite! At least a regular sandwich has corners... Always start at the corners... "

"Do I really have to plead with you to eat your food every morning?" His mother nagged. "Honestly Bryan, it's like pulling teeth to get you to eat these days... Or do anything for that matter. In fact, I don't understand how y-"

She stopped dead in her tracks as she noticed the little picture that slipped out of his pocket.

"I miss him too, Bryan," She told him softly.

"Really? Because you never seem to act like it," He replied coldly.

His mother was taken aback by such a sharp accusation. Bryan was not the person he used to be in the least bit. He'd been growing worse and worse lately, but this was new, and his mother hardly knew how to respond.

"We... we all just need time to heal, Bryan..." His mother finally replied while struggling to maintain composure.

"But that's just it, you've had time to heal, but you choose not to. All these years you've just been living like it never happened, you act like he never existed in the first place. That's not healing, that's denial!" He barked back at her.

"We all grieve differently Bryan!" His mother nearly screeched, biting back tears for the first time in years. The agony and bewilderment in her heart was evident in her face now, but Bryan could hardly bring himself to make eye contact with her.

"Then let me grieve the way I do." He replied through his teeth.

"The way you grieve is destructive to yourself and others Bryan... You're obsessive and compulsive...You've changed so much... Sometimes I feel like I lost two sons that day."
She was speaking purely out of impulse, she'd never have disclosed those feelings with him under any other circumstances.

"I don't know what to do with myself anymore, nothing makes sense. What happened to him- I just can't understand, why him? I can't make sense of it. That whole day was so chaotic... And that's what life continues to be. I just want something to make sense! I want things to make sense like they used to.... I want order."
Bryan was biting back tears, and he cringed as one rolled down his cheek. He hated crying, not because it was emasculating or because it represented weakness, but because he saw it as one of the most unruly and disorderly displays of emotion. His mother, still in disbelief at what she'd just said, decided to end their exchange before it escalated any further. For once, she needn't have the last word.

"You're going to be late, get going before you get caught in work traffic. I love you."

Bryan was well on his way before he managed to whisper an "I love you too." He knew he loved his mother, but expressed it with great difficulty. They just didn't get along like they used to.



undefined


As Bryan drove past his old high school, he couldn't keep his thoughts from drifting towards how others his age were living their lives. His mental health deteriorated in such a way that daily therapy sessions replaced his schooling for the time being. He would've been graduating this spring with the rest of them.

Once he arrived, after four minutes of adjusting his car to a satisfactory position within a parking spot, he walked up to the lofty double doors. He stood before the towering building as it plunged upward and smirkily taunted him simultaneously. He found it to be increasingly stark and uninviting every time he stepped into it, but at least it was symmetrical.

Bryan could never be certain why Dr. Heilger unsettled something deep inside of him. Maybe it was the eerie manor in which his glasses caressed his thin, pale face. Perhaps it was the thick Swedish accent that obscured his speech and made Bryan strain to understand him. Or was it German? Polish? Austrian? The mysterious nature of the origin of his accent only added to his uncanny countenance. His skin was as dry as his personality, and he looked more like a mad scientist than a doctor. He was once a forensic psychiatrist but began therapy sessions with individuals for undisclosed reasons. Bryan's mother didn't seem to feel uneasy about Dr. Heilger in the least bit, in fact, she mostly only thought of him as a sheerly brilliant man. Whenever Bryan had any sign of physical ailment, his mother would refer him to Dr. Heilger, even though he was not a medical doctor and believed in the power of the mind more than anything else... Perhaps too much. Once, Bryan had developed a sharp pain in his gut. Dr. Heilger, believing that most physical ailments are a result of mental ailments, was quick to write it off as "purely psychosomatic". Contrary to Dr. Heilger's conjecture, Bryan passed a kidney stone two weeks later. He had good reason to feel uneasy about Dr. Heilger, but this morning he felt more than just uneasy.

Bryan gazed up at the nameplate above the door that read,
"DOCTOR OTTO GERTH HEILGER"
as a wave of apprehension flooded over him.

He opened the door and crossed over the threshold nonetheless.

"Oh... Hello Bryan. You're quite early."
Dr. Heilger jerked to attention suddenly in such a way that some things fell from his desk as he addressed Bryan. Bryan glanced at his phone, it was 8:27.

"We set the appointment for 8:30 right?" Bryan inquired anxiously.

"Yes. Of course." Dr. Heilger replied in his usual manor of dry formality, though his countenance was sopping with eerie suspicion.

"How've you been Mahlstrom?" Bryan wasn't usually much for much for small talk, but as a drop of sweat ran down his back and sent a chill down his spine, he felt that silence only made the atmosphere eerier. The tension was already nearly palpable, and he hadn't even been in the room for a full minute yet.

Mahlstrom turned from the things he was hastily collecting from the ground to give Bryan an abrupt, slightly irritated "Fine, very fine." Before returning to his tense little game of pick up sticks. This was not unusual for Mahlstrom, as Dr. Heilger's assistant he normally didn't care to engage in futile conversation.

"Never seen Dr. Heilger make a sudden movement like that before... Maybe I should say I have a migraine or something and go home." Bryan's thoughts ran barbarically around his head, his mouth was dry, he he'd quickly fallen deep into a cold sweat, but why? He must be overthinking things again. Dr. Heilger got slightly startled but Mahlstrom was quiet and brief as usual, nothing too significant was truly out of the ordinary...

"The couch... What... Where's the couch?" Bryan eyes shifted over to the spot where the couch he would recline in during therapy sessions used to be. "How didn't I notice tha- the bookcases..." His eyes darted around the room in an anxious frenzy.
"That weird plant... Where is-"

"We're going to be doing something different today, Bryan." Dr. Heilger's words leapt at Bryan almost as if to ambush him from behind. His shoulders jumped, his body jolted and his heart raced for what seemed like no good reason. His train of thought was broken for a second, but then continued through Dr. Heilger's words. "Is this the right room? I don't think the walls are even the same color... Or maybe... I don't know..."

"We are going to analyze your dreams. I think they will provide great insight into your..."

He paused for a moment as Bryan's stomach churned every which way, and his intestines threatened to tangle themselves into irreversible knots. Bryan's eyes darted around the room, processing pieces of it at a time, how had he not noticed the abnormalities of the room immediately as he walked in?

He laid eyes on the machine in the back corner of the room. Intrigued yet horrified, his eyes were locked on it. The closest thing he could compare it to was an MRI scanner, but it was almost entirely transparent with the exception of the wires running to and fro, and computer screens lining the sides. He followed the fattest wire from the bottom of that machine to the side of what looked like a 3D printer. He was petrified at the thought of what it could possibly be for.

"Symptoms." Dr. Heilger finished.

Bryan wanted to flee, but he stood frozen in awe and terror of the machine.

Bryan made up his mind to run, but before he knew it, he was inside of the machine- hooked up and strapped in.

The only sounds available to his burning ears were the whirring of the computers hidden behind the strip of monitors lining the machine, and the ominous voice of Dr. Heilger.

Desiring to comply with Dr. Heilger's orders out of sheer fear, Bryan grew concerned that he would not be able to fall asleep. "Are you going to give me a sedative? Or do I need t-" He caught sight of Dr. Heilger whispering to Mahlstrom, and that's all he could observe before he felt the sort of impact one would feel jumping from the high dive into a pool.



He sank in

Deeper

And Deeper

And Deeper



Abruptly, and almost rudely, everything was crystal clear. He still couldn't see, but everything was crystal clear. A sense of order and peace came over him.

"Steve!"

No one called him by his first name. No one except for

"Harrison!"

Bryan's heart overflowed with alleviation and bliss. He regained his vision in splotches, each splotch revealing another piece of his brother's face. With nothing short of pure elation, Bryan took in the expansive landscape that flooded his heart with delight. Precise calculation and absolute order surrounded them. Bryan's heart was the fullest it had ever been- Harrison was with him, along with every precisely placed block that made up his ideal reality.

Without warning, he felt a curious sensation of agitation. He turned around in sheer horror to catch a last glimpse of the sun as it evaporated in the heavens. Harrison too, vaporized before his very eyes.

"Harrison! Wh-" he was rendered speechless as a sweltering fever charred the very grass he was standing on. It singed his skin, but the greater sting was within him. There was a great roaring, and all at once yet piece by piece, Bryan's surroundings were torn away from him in one fell swoop.

He was sent tumbling end over end into desolate oblivion.

He felt an abrupt impact and immediately opened his eyes. His vision was hazy, but he beheld the figures of Dr. Heilger and Mahlstrom... They were in a panicked frenzy. Pivoting his head as much as the wires would permit, he could see the 3D printer spewing matter at an alarming rate in his peripheral vision. This matter was incandescent, not in a brilliant or dazzling way, but in the most malevolent way possible. Bryan couldn't see exactly what the matter was, but it seemed to threaten to engulf Dr. Heilger and Mahlstrom.

He witnessed the 3D printer combust into white-hot flames, and almost instantaneously there was an explosion of unfathomable violence and chaos. Along with this came a sharp pain in Bryan's head brought on by waves of electricity pulsating through his brain.


The ringing in his ears quieted.
His pain ceased.

Where chaos abounded, there was once again a moment of peace.

Bryan was rendered incapable of coherent thought for a few moments, much less coherent speech.



"Steve... What have you done?"



He laid motionless within the machine, steadily regaining consciousness, still unable to see anything but incalculable void.



"Look at you. Get a hold of yourself."



Bewildered, Bryan called out to the voice, "H- Harrison? What do you... What?"

It sounded like Harrison's voice, but much more grizzly and hostile.



"Get out of there."



The voice ground against his eardrums like sandpaper as he tried to place who it was. Was it actually Harrison? Eerily enough, it also sounded like someone else...

Bryan touched the transparent top of the machine and it dissipated entirely. He stood up and looked down- ground was forming beneath his feet.

"Harrison? Is it, I mean.... What's happening?"



"This is all your doing Bryan. What happened to me years ago... That was your doing as well."



Bryan was dumbfounded. The harshest affliction he had ever felt was welling up inside of him as a wave of remorse and turmoil swallowed him whole. Tears formed in his eyes as he observed the terrain of his dreams form, but not in their usual magnificent and peaceful way.

"This is just some awful, disgusting dream, and I'm going to wake up any minute now." Bryan told himself.



"Stop denying it Steve, this is how things are now."



He tried to wake up.

And again, he tried to wake up.

Once more, he tried his very hardest to wake up, but to no avail.



The landscape forming before him was more vivid than any dream he'd ever experienced, and in some aspects it felt more authentic than real life itself.



"This is reality now.

You've gotten want you wanted."




"What are you saying? Who are you?! Harrison... It can't be you... Is it really..."

Bryan realized that the voice sounded somewhat like Harrison's, yes, but it also sounded like

"Me..."

Bryan sat perplexed, drowning in an ocean of mixed emotions.


undefined

Suddenly, he felt as if a cumbersome weight had been lifted off of him, and he felt the subsistence of the voice leave his presence.

Surrounding him was the stuff of his dreams in vivid reality, but without the usual peace, harmony, and.... order

He was trapped in his own paradise, but nothing could seem to go right. It felt as if every fiber of his own being was dedicated to causing him suffering.

Anguish boiled within him.


"I have to make things right... I've got to find Harrison... Or whoever he is, or... It... I must have reconciliation. I can’t live like this anymore."






"This is reality now."







Hey guys! This is my first blog on here, I wasn't able to make the presentation as grand as I wanted to because I ran out of time, I'm sitting here typing this at 3:43 AM as we speak, and honestly I just want to go to bed haha.

I know it's not the prettiest, but I would appreciate it if you gave it a read, I put a lot of hard work into it and I'm proud of the content itself.

Have a nice night, get more sleep than me

Also, I left a lot of things to the imagination and open-ended for a reason, so feel free to comment with what you think actually happened.
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1
10/24/2014 12:46 pm
Level 19 : Journeyman Taco
Higuy1
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Amazing!
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