The Pain Patient
I really hope I’m not about to kill this guy. Like why else would he get rid of this memory?
And…
I’m reaching for his neck. Yup I’m definitely about to strangle this old guy. As if he already isn’t going through enough with whatever put him here.
Ah shit, his eyes are open and he’s watching me do it. Yup, he’s surprised by this so no way he asked to be killed.
This guy killed his dad and can’t live with it anymore. Great.
My eyes open.
The brain probes are taken off.
I sit up, but don’t feel as sick as last time, or the time before that. I guess you really do get used to it. It would make this a bit easier. Minus the memories, of course.
“Need anything,” he asked.
I let him know some water would be great, and some time to sit and relax. He pulled out a water bottle and left the room, undoubtedly going to help the pain patient. The one who killed his dad. But, the scientist doesn’t know that, he just knows the patient is the one with the money. The one who keeps this place running. I’m only here to be of service, and get paid.
I scanned my account code at the front desk. Sent the money to my landlord. Bought a small to-go bowl for dinner and walked home. Well, the apartment my girlfriend and I share. The studio apartment we’ve been in for three years. Pretending to save money for something better. Eventually.
“I think you should stop going,” she said after I’d been home for just a few minutes.
“I’m handling it, alright,” I replied as I started to reheat the bowl of food. Once warm dividing it in half for the two of us to share. It went down quick, and we were both still hungry.
“Do you ever think why they have the pain clinics? Why nobody closes them down?”
Of course I knew why they had the clinics. And why nobody ever shut them down.
“Because the people who have the power to shut them down are the ones who use them.”
Jessa paused at this and held back her question. Even though it was the same question she asked every time I came home from one.
“Today was more maddening than sad.” I mean it was the truth. Today didn’t seem to really affect me too much. “I think they guy killed his own dad.”
Jessa wasn’t surprised at this. She’d heard worse.
“He was in a hospital bed. Old, and probably sick, near death.” I think he just wanted it to be over with.
“The dad?”
“No. His son.”
—
We didn’t have anywhere to go, but didn’t have a reason to stay home either. Jessa was always looking for places hiring so I wouldn’t have to go back to the clinic. But I had to go back. It was about more than just the money for me.
The longer we walked in the city the more depressing it was. So many people sick, and nobody offering any help. Some talked to themselves, others yelled at nobody in particular.
“You think they know what’s going on,” she asked.
“I think they’re so confused that they just make their own reality. Believe the thoughts that seem most real.”
“But it seems like they’re believing bad things, painful things,” she replied.
I wanted to tell her the painful things seem the most real. Or how easily it is to forget what really happened to you, or what happened to someone else.
“You gotta think about the bad things in your past though. The times you did the wrong thing,” I said.
“Well of course. Not enough to make me go crazy though. Not like I’ve done anything that’s actually that bad. I’ve hurt people, but had a reason for it, whether a good or bad reason. I’ve stolen, but mostly things I needed. Things I could justify. The others were just dumb mistakes.”
I nodded. There was no point in trying to explain. If you’ve never had memories implanted in you, you just wouldn’t get it. It’s totally different. There’s a reason people pay to get rid of those memories.
Man, it would be nice to get rid of the bad ones. I mean, I get why they do it.
“Hey, Chris?”
“Chris, hey.”
Chris looked at me, confused. I only noticed him because of the mumbling and pacing. His hair was longer, clothes dirty. It was clear he was living out here.
Jessa looked at me, then at Chris. She’d never met him. He was someone I’d seen at the clinic when I first started going.
“Hey man, how are you holding up?”
He still didn’t recognize me.
“It’s Slav. From the clinic a few months ago. I’m the one who told you about the girl who kinda… stole the business from her friend.”
Silence.
“And you told me about the guy who sold out his friend to stay out of prison.”
“No. I didn’t want to do it,” he said, irritated.
“No you didn’t do it. It was the memory they gave you. Remember you told me— ”
“No! I don’t want to think about that anymore! I know it was wrong! I’ve done a lot of wrong things!”
I was a little thrown off, Jessa was freaked out and started slowly backing away.
“Hey, don’t worry, you’re a good guy Chris. That wasn’t real, that wasn’t you.”
Chris was now backing away. Shaking his head. Glaring at me. He turned and walked away, continuing to shake his head. Never looking back.
Jessa was now staring at me, scared, almost crying. But with pity too. Not for Chris.
But for me.
