Plaything

I struggle in my straight jacket, yet the attempt is futile. I can only watch as Dr. Yamamoto takes the prepared dose of anesthesia out of the box with my name labeled on it from the metal tray. He grins from behind his mask as he holds up the syringe of anesthesia. “To be quite honest with you, Mr. Ishiguro, your Restless Spirit has been quite problematic. I had to go through the effort of getting anesthesia specifically for you.”

I narrow my eyes at the doctor as he approaches. “Please don’t act so surprised. I’m a professional at handling xeno patients. Of course, I would account for just how slippery your Restless Spirit is.”

I bite my lower lips as my struggle stops. I see… So that’s how it is… It seems I’ve underestimated him. I sigh in defeat as he administers the dose, though a thought did occur to me before I was knocked out. Did he just refer to my ability as Restless Spirit? I guess the word must’ve gotten around…

- - - - -

Entry #14

It’s been a year since I entered this prison. I thought that was enough cause to make another entry. I should probably be journaling a lot more, but frankly, there’s not much to write about. Every single day seems to just pass. Looking back, I can’t distinguish the events of the past. It’s all a blur. I guess I’m not really keeping track anymore. Nothing ever changes. There’s no point. The next entry will probably be a few months from now.

- - - - -

“Well, Mr. Ishiguro… How are you feeling right now?” Dr. Yamamoto prepares a syringe of anesthesia. “Do you remember when I first asked you that on your first day here? I hope you feel as much nostalgia for that day as I do. To think that here you are, already getting your second annual debilitator renewal. Time sure goes by fast.”

“I guess it does.” I make stern eye contact with him.

“You know, Mr. Ishiguro, sometimes I sit down and wonder if there’s just any way to slow it down. I never want the good times to end.”

I narrow my eyes on him. Is he fucking with me? “Just get it over with, you sick bastard. At least I have the privilege of being knocked out while you operate.”

He sighs. “I truly don’t understand your particularly held disdain for me, but… as you wish.”

- - - - -

Entry #16

Hikari turns 14 today. I can’t believe it’s already been so long. Before I know it, she’ll be graduating middle school too… And I’m going to miss that too… These years seem to pass so fast. I wonder what happens to all these days that I don’t bother counting.

- - - - -

The doctor approaches Boju and me in the middle of our lunchtime, two guards following closely behind him. He hands me an envelope with a broken seal and smiles. “It seems you’re a celebrity, Mr. Ishiguro. You’ve got a letter, though I did have to inspect it before delivering it to you, so please excuse the broken seal. Tsubasa University is interested in you as a subject of study.”

I raise an eyebrow at the doctor. “A ‘subject of study?’ So a lab rat for them to experiment on then?”

He places the letter down onto the table next to my food tray. “You should feel honored that they’re interested in you out of all the freaks here. Ah sorry. Did I say freaks? I meant xenos. Either way, if you accept, I’m sure you’ll help contribute greatly towards understanding the mechanics of your kind, so you have my support if you’d like to transfer out. The university will be handling your debilitator in that case.”

I consider the offer only for a moment when comparing it to my time here, almost tempted by the prospect. “No, thanks. If I’m going to rot in a cell for the rest of my life, I’d like to keep my dignity doing it.”

The doctor sighs, holding his hands behind his back. “You may not believe this Mr. Ishiguro, but it makes me sad to see you all demoralized and given up. I was hoping it would take more to beat the fighting spirit out of the man who has successfully escaped prison once before.”

I watch the doctor leave, though his words hang in and pollute the already poor air. He truly does simply enjoy looking down upon and tormenting the weak, downtrodden, and helpless. I suppose that’s just what happens when you’ve got a prison’s worth of playthings at your disposal… All the abuse and mistreatment of the other guards in the facility pales in comparison. He’s pretty damn confident in his security and power over the inmates. I guess that’s what enables him to act all high and mighty. You’re going to regret that, doc.

- - - - -

Entry #18

Another year goes by at the prison. Looking back at all I’ve accomplished in this past year, I come up with nothing at all. Should I just end it all? Is there any way to end it all?

- - - - -

I watch as the doctor prepares the syringe of anesthesia for the third time. “Is this starting to feel familiar yet, Mr. Ishiguro? Do you feel at home yet?”

“If by familiar, you mean developing a deep traumatic response to needles and immobilization, then I suppose, yeah. It’s getting etched pretty deep into my psyche.”

That manages to break the poker face he usually pairs with his subtle, cruel sense of humor as he laughs, though I’m not sure if I should be proud of making a guy like him laugh. “You and that Boju seem to get along well... Speaking of home though, do you still have any family? A wife, maybe? A son, perhaps?”

I sharply inhale to calm my nerves and stay silent to his probing. He only nods in response. “Ah, my apologies. I didn’t mean to open an old wound.”

“Just do the thing.”

- - - - -

Entry #19

Hikari is 15 now. I’ll be turning 45 in a bit. That’s a pretty even number to end it all, isn’t it? I wonder if I smash my head into the prison yard wall hard enough, would I die?

- - - - -

I take a deep breath, staring at the grainy, cold concrete wall of my cell. Pressing my left cheek against it, I grit my teeth and puff my chest, quickly sliding my face down against it with a grating agony. Fuck, it hurts! It hurts so much! I pant and quickly press the right side of my face against the wall and repeat the bloody process. Finally, I press my nose, lips, and chin against the wall to finish the job. Fuck! It feels like a million alcohol-covered needles repeatedly stabbing into me all at once, but it’s nothing compared to the thought of missing Hikari’s middle school graduation. I grit my teeth and clean off my wall.

- - - - -

Entry #20

Today was not a good day. When I tried smashing my head into the prison yard’s wall today, I completely missed and flung myself to the ground, face planting into the concrete floor. I couldn’t even kill myself properly, and now my face is a bloody mess. I hope it doesn’t scar.

- - - - -

Boju freaks out at the state of my face when I sit down next to him during lunchtime. “Woah, what happened?”

“Oh, it’s really dumb. I tripped and fell and scraped my face.”

“Damn, that’s pretty clumsy of you.”

“Yeah, I hope it doesn’t leave a scar.”

“Yeah, that would not be pretty at all. Or maybe it’ll make you look really cool. I don’t know.” He shrugs and returns to his food.

I nod for a bit and finally decide to rip the band-aid off. “Hey, Boju…”

“Hm?”

“How come you’re always so cheery despite being stuck in this cruel prison?”

He turns to me and speaks with food still in his mouth. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how can you always be in a good mood when you’re in a place like this?”

“I mean, why would I not be? If I’m gonna live life, I may as well try to enjoy it with a positive outlook.”

My eyebrows furrow even further at that answer. “Don’t you ever think about getting out of the place and going to the outside world?”

“The outside world?” He turns to me with a confused stare.

“Y-yeah. Why do you say that like it’s such a foreign concept to you?”

“Oh, man.” He wipes his mouth with his hands. “I don’t think I can do that, the whole outside world thing. I’ve been in here with the doctor for as long as I can remember. The outside world seems scary, with people committing massacres and arson everywhere.”

I can only stare at him with empty eyes and slowly nod. I’m gonna miss him when I get out of here.

- - - - -

Entry #21

It seems I’ve been blessed by some sort of divine luck. My escape is right on the horizon. When I scraped my face against the concrete floor a few months back, it seems that while the circlet appeared entirely unscathed from the outside, something got shaken up on the inside. I discovered that if I just pressed down against the circlet in a specific place, I can disable its effects for a few seconds. Using this method, I’ve been able to use Restless Spirit to a small extent. While it’s not enough to let me escape the facility, it is however enough to let me travel within the facility. For the past few months, I’ve been pilfering small doses of anesthesia from the medical center and administering it to myself, and by now, I’m confident that I’ve built up a strong enough tolerance to not fall unconscious at the next annual circlet change. When the doctor administers the anesthesia, I’ll pretend to fall unconscious and make my escape when he removes my circlet. Moving about and using Restless Spirit while under the effects of anesthesia is tough, but I’ve been able to grow accustomed to it over the past months. In fact, I’m pretty sure I don’t even know how to use Restless Spirit without being under the effects of anesthesia at this point, so I guess this foolproof plan can be foiled on the impossible odds that the doctor decides to not administer the anesthesia before removing the circlet.