The outsiderA Story by Alice BoswellWriting from the view of someone who doesn't understand. Kind of a long riddle.
Previous Version This is a previous version of The outsider. My coat is
taken from me as soon as I arrive; it is hung on a metal rail among a dozen
others. One of the younger recruits, still in training, takes me to the end of
the long room. I am put into a low seat, tipped backwards and my neck is
contorted at a painful angle against a cold surface. I am unable to see what is
happening behind me, and so jump when the hot water suddenly hits me. I then have
to endure the waiting; I do not know how long it will last. I am given propaganda
to read and a cup of something bitter which scalds my throat. I am almost glad
when they finally come back for me. I am to a
row of identical chairs, higher, with upright backs. There are others like
myself, wearing uniform black sacks. I wonder if I look as much of a drowned rat
as my comrades do. A uniform is handed to me. As the interrogation
begins I realise I will be forced to watch the whole process, the wall in front
of me is mirrored and turning my face away is no longer an option as long sharp
scissors are brandished behind my head. They start
to cut. After a while they seem to forget that we are human, my comrades and I.
They don’t seem interested in the answers to their questions. They begin to hum
or talk amongst themselves. Nothing that I say seems to have any effect on their
progressing destruction. I had almost
forgotten those sat beside me, but the woman in the next seat is brought back
to my attention as a large machine is wheeled over to her and pulled down over
her head, stained red. One of the disaffected youths walks down the line, cleaning
up the mess left by their elders, without even a sideways glance at us. My head
feels so light by the time they are finished; I am made to look at what has
been done to me from every angle and then wobble when I stand. I hand over all
the money in my pocket in exchange for my coat, and walk out of the door with a
cold neck and an itchy back. © 2013 Alice BoswellFeatured Review
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Added on March 12, 2013 Last Updated on March 12, 2013 Previous Versions Author
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