One, Two, Three..

I can't sleep. I know obvious right? Counting is not really my thing, but at this point I'm giving it a go. I've been up for one hundred hours, I think. I'm pretty that's what John said when he forced me into my room and blocked the door so I couldn't get out. It's not that I don't want to sleep. I've tried a few times. They won't let me work, they won't let me go out in public anymore, not until I sleep and "deal with this" as they say. They were there too, why are able to sleep? Well anyway, here I am. Maybe one hundred sheep for one hundred hours will do the trick.

34, 35, 36..

Oh, I wish his face would go away. Those sandy eye lashes glinting and casting off the sun just before...Even in my head I can't seem to form the words. I can see it. That enough and apparently that's problem. They were all there, but I was the one. I did this. Only I didn't. No my fault and all that, but it was my hand that pulled the trigger, and my eyes that saw the blast exit the muzzle in slow motion. My dark browns that the kid was staring into not even flinching. Why would he, he had no concept of what was happening. I wish my skin would stop quivering. A side effect I'm told.

LXI, LXII, LXIII..

It's the stuff out of nightmares you know? Ha! Funny, nightmares. Yes, I know. I remember the wiry tentacles that extended off the thing. The shiny metal gadget that looked like some whacked fancy kitchen utensil. Something you might see on Oprah or Ellen, only this was walking of it's own accord on what looked like chop sticks and attached it's tentacles like guitar strings to the small of my back. I have the penetration marks to prove it to myself. I'm the only one who doesn't seem to believe completely. I saw it coming, I ran, then...I don't remember much for a time. But I see the flashes, through my eyes, but no me.

octoginta septem, octoginta duodeviginti, octoginta novem...

"Ben? Can you hear me? Common man, I know you're in there. Fight it! You have to stop! Oh god, he's going to do it. Ben!

That's what I keep hearing in ringing tones like some kind of interference was trying to blot it out. That's all I hear though, the rest is just the empty void that would remind me of an empty metal room with a loud constant water drop echoing, sonic boom kind of echo. They say I woke up sometime after the thing removed itself from me and that I was catatonic for three days. I aroused just in time to learn my nephew was dead and they packed me up like a precious doll and we left to pay our respects. Everyone stared at me, they didn't tell me why until I was more myself and healed, physically. Someone, ended up talking a two by 4 from an old truck bed and walloped me good and hard, but I'm told I it didn't faze me. 100 hours ago I learned what I did to him. Isaac, my nephew, nineteen years old. He had been accused of espionage and you know, the government has this new way to dealing with criminals. Hands clean and all. I feel the food I was forced to eat shift precariously in my stomach. I'm fading though...bout damn time, they shot me up with something.

Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundre...