What Doesn't Kill Me......

Seeing the light at the end of the tunnel is difficult sometimes, ya know? It’s like, one minute you're doing everything right then, BAM, you get hit with something outta nowhere, fucking nowhere I tell ya. I guess it all started way back when, if I can even remember what happened correctly. Sometimes I remember it one way, sometimes another, it’s one of those things I just don’t get. Anyway, my name is Jack. I’m from Rome originally, but I moved to the states to find “The American Dream” or the cracked up version of it anyway in college in California.

Everything went well there I suppose, I graduated within the top 10 in my class with a double master’s in Philosophy & Clinical Psychology. I study the mind in order to understand my own. For the longest I’ve been on all types of medication. Mood elevators, Bipolar medication, you name it, I’ve been on it.  My parents didn’t know any better but to trust whatever doctors said. I’ve been taking those medications all my life. I can’t even function throughout my day to day life without them...but man 280 bucks a month on medication is a lot more the I can afford to blow on pills. Anyway thats not the story I’m here to tell...like I said; my memory isn’t the most reliable.

Living on medication your entire life isn’t the easiest thing to do, especially when you have skin like mine that looks like a cracking mask. It’s always been hard for me to wake up and look in the mirror. My face filled with craters, dead skin, and pimples the size of tennis balls. This in turn leads to one crappy love life and not many friends. Niko, Hayden and Laura, they get me through anything and everything. They have since our days at the University of Southern California. Best friends for life, Niko and Hayden follow by the book, helping my self esteem and my overall demeanor.

But Laura, oh man sometimes I don’t know how I conceal the words,

“I LOVE YOU AND WANT TO HAVE CHILDREN WITH YOU”.

I’ve had a crush on her since Intro to Psych, freshman year. I could never tell her, every time Niko talks me into almost getting there I chicken out...and end up going home and drowning out my failed attempt in whiskey and meds that I should have taken a week ago. But, there was that one time, that one particular time, that thing that made me the way I am. That light at the end of the road. Even though I can’t reach it.

I guess it all started downhill when I started really paying attention to bills and how much my meds and drinking binges were stacking up. It really wasn’t pretty. But it got worse...one day I came home to see all my shit out on the sidewalk. So I elected to have a chat with my good old landlord, Martin.

“What the hell Martin ? You said I had another week before I got kicked out ? This is bull man” I said using most of the base in my voice.

“I said that last week ya donche, This ain’t the time to be getting all touchy feely, you knew the money was due. So pay up or scram”

After that I started picking up my stuff, because there was no way in hell I had the money to pay him back, I didn't even have the money to front him to make it look like I would pay up. I had just gone into another drinking fit last night after trying to talk to Laura again.

All I could really think to do was to call Niko, so I did. He was at work so of course he didn't answer. Just like every other time it was actually important and not about a girl, well Laura of course. I tried Hayden’s cell but all I got was dead air...so with nothing to do and nowhere to go I just headed downtown. I remember distinctly how the air changed as I got further and further south. The air was thick with the steam curling out of the sewers and the smell of the fermenting trash getting heated up from the exhaust of the many cars parked around. It smelled sweet like cheap Chinese food and booze, but dank at the same time. Almost like mildew and sex.  Honestly it was a crap neighborhood.

After walking far enough and I found a pawn shop, which was actually helpful to me. I still had the stuff I could carry from my apartment with me so I decided to sell most of it. It was all useless to me anyway without a place to live. I made about $200 within an hour which was just about enough to get somewhere to stay. After that I just crossed the street and strolled into a cheap run down looking bar/motel. Convent enough right?

I head in with my money in hand, and slide right into a stool at the bar. I order a Whiskey Sour and wait. Once my drink was handed to me by a less than attractive bartender I downed it. Then another...then another. After I lost count of the number of drinks I had and how much money I had left I felt it. The inevitable effect of drinking in general but especially alcohol. I really had to pee.

Once I got to the bathroom I stood there doing my thing just kinda staring at the wall and I noticed that there was something written on it. It was an address and phone number next to a weird science looking symbol. All that info was boxed in then a sharpied on arrow pointing to another box, with the word “Nirvana” written in it. I took a blurry picture with my phone and figured I’d check it out once I sobered up again. Maybe there was a way to get enough money out of it to get my old place back, or even a new place. Hell I might even be able to turn my life around just enough to get up the balls to talk to Laura for real and not just in my dreams.

I woke up to the sound of yelling and throwing as the bartender kicked me out. So I went to go wandering  around until I found the building that I had the address to this science project. I went to the front desk and asked how could I get it in on doing this project for some dough. The front desk lady told me to take a seat until they called for people. So I sat around Doing just that...waiting. I had been sitting around for about an hour when I was finally told to go to the back room where I would talk to someone about the information I knew, what I could do to help them and of course in turn, what they could do to help me back.

I was told that “Project Nirvana” was a case study conducted by a nearby college. In all honesty it was about getting funding or some other B.S for their science department, I zoned out half way, but I came back right at the good parts. They would be administering a type of virus/inoculation hybrid drug into me once every other week and monitoring my progress or lack there of. So basically, I got a free place to stay, free meals, money handed to me, and a miracle drug that would make me ‘better’. I was so down it I didn't even care to listen to the rest. I signed the release and the waiver, handed over my belongings and got checked into the building’s living quarters; were I would be living for the next year.  

It didn’t take long until I got in the building. After I filled out the paperwork on the spot they handed me a room key and told me the address. It wasn’t exactly what I expected, but it wasn’t too crap either. Beggars can’t be choosers right? As I settled in I noticed there were two beds instead of one. My first thought was back to my days living in a college dorm, and all the trouble my roommate caused me. In any case, I was told that  was to keep us socially active while living there, since we couldn’t get cell phone reception in the rooms and the internet was slow as all hell to boot. But not knowing who’s gonna be rooming with you is kinda scary. The thought of knowing they’re going to see you at your best, worst and ugliest is weird. But low and behold who came clutching their black plastic bag through the door with that red hair and sleeve tattoo I could never forget. It was my old college roommate, Jet.

Jet was... I guess what you would think of when you hear “College Party Boy”. Jet was everything in those, coming home super late after the latest frat party and banging back-up quarterback’s girlfriend because he was too scared to attempt the starter’s girl and turning in everything late to every professor. I honestly don’t know how the kid made it through four years at college, or how he even got in the first place since he was the classic kid who the dean hates in every 80’s sitcom. We didn’t really talk after college, since he was going to become the next neil armstrong in biking and take the world by storm...but I don’t think shooting up in the middle of the night really helped him get that far in his pursuit.

“This block 47 A right kiddo? He said to me as he blew a ring of smoke that hit me right in the middle of my face,

“Yeah, your bed’s right over there. I moved all my shit on the other one, it’s down the hall if ya need me,” I said.

“Thanks. Hey wait….. I know you from somewhere don’t I Kid? I swear, were you on the back of a milk carton?” He said, as I saw curiosity from his face for the first time in, well ever.

“Nah dude, last time somebody said that to me was way back in was 2017 when I was a college sophomore or some shit at SC in dorm……”

“Hmmm, wait a sec…. Hold on, holy shit what’s up man? I haven’t seen you since the party days back at college” He said as another blast of cigar smoke hit my face.

We had a little chat about catching up and what we did after college, the usual shit like that. Turns out, a slacker can hold down a steady job at rite-aid and keep an apartment. That is until is your girlfriend throws all your shit out of the window when you have long “meetings” with your boss almost every week. I mean, it’s Jet I didn’t really expect much more.

Everything was pretty smooth for the first couple weeks. You know, treatments, monitoring, physical workups, social activities, diet changes, everything I was told to be expecting. Things only started to get weird after about a month or so. I noticed that most of the other ‘subjects’ that were in my dorm block had either left or been removed from the study as the nurses so politely put it. Why they were removed we were never told, but I also noticed that I saw Jet less and less, and when I actually did get to see him for a little bit he was different. I mean, he was always an asshole, but especially so then. He was always moving really sluggish, and really short with everyone he came into contact with.

Then things just got progressively weirder. The side effects of whatever they were pumping into me started to hit. I got really lethargic and lost all the want and need to eat. I started developing blackouts/fainting spells because of my lethargy combined with insomnia, and time skips to top it all off.  Apparently whatever hormone supplements were in the drug cocktails were warping my brains neurological receptors, making my  brain freak out and in the eventuality deforming it.

Now I still had full function of my brain and body although I still had the skips and no more than three hours of sleep a night.  

“Have you been having any body,muscle, or joint pain as of late?” Asked a looming nurse dressed in a pale pink scrub set, as though a peppy color would distract me from the fact that I had made a mistake coming here. I would look at medication without being reminded of the flowers I had not seen in the new coming spring season in the past 4 months I had stayed in this hell hole. Getting god knows what put into my body; because I thought it was an easy paycheck.

“No not really, still can’t sleep though...can’t you give me anything for that?” I said,  That is really all I could say. Thats all I ever said, ‘no can’t sleep’, ‘no can’t sleep’.    But this time I needed to say more, I needed to hear what my barely sober self had not bothered to pay attention to not even a year before.

“Look, I was really out of it when you guys explained exactly you would be doing to me, so would you mind telling me again, reiterating if you will, what it is you are doing?” I said

She never answered me herself. Instead she tore a piece of paper off her little notepad and scribbled down some numbers on it. They looked random to me, like she was just pacifying me or telling a child a story to pass the time...like I was really just a number on a page, an appointment, a paycheck. After she left and I went back to my room in the dorm I took my time to go call the set of numbers I was handed. It rang for a while then eventually a machine picked up. But it wasn't really a machine, just a human recording.

“The purpose of ‘Project Nirvana’ is to figure out the correct cocktail of drugs to create a super soldier or highly advanced human. This may consist of warping the pain receptors in the brain, physically augmenting the body’s form or general makeup, or even hormonal supplements. In short the task is to dehumanize humans. This project will go on for a year, at which time the facilities will be sanitized and removed.”

Still not understanding the full picture I went back to my room and flopped on the bed. After about ten minutes I noticed I was laying on something, paper, small, pointy...mail. I opened one after another little spam mail envelopes, then I got to the last letter, addressed from Hayden. He was telling me to take it easy, brush my teeth and take my meds, which I hadn’t been doing since about exactly the night I was thrown out of my apartment, but I figured it didn't matter and he was just trying to mother me like the friend he was supposed to be.

About 3 months after that I was really tired of the poking and the prodding, the questions and monitoring. I just wanted it to get out of that place, so I packed my stuff and headed for the door one night.  I got about halfway out the door when security got there and tried to take me back to my room.

I was kicking and fighting, until I felt this calm wash over me. I really didn't need to work as hard as I was, I could kick ass without even breaking a sweat. I punched one guard, then another. Once they stopped coming at me the only one left standing was the administrator that checked you in and out. She was slouched against the wall and wouldn’t look at me. So I picked up my bag and walked away.

I walked through town, and it was completely empty. Probably because it was pouring rain and freezing out. A late autumn rain. I walked until I reached Laura’s apartment. Then I walked all the way up the stairs until I got to the landing in front of her door. I had just been through hell, getting all types of random shit put in my body and basically being held prisoner for almost a year. I was above having butterflies for my best girl friend.

Eventually I got up the courage to knock on the door and wait for her to come answer. As soon as she did I knew something was wrong. Her face twisted up into a play dough mound of terrified and disgusted and her eyes looked frozen in place. Then came the scream...and it all happened as soon as she caught a glimpse of me, or what’s left of me.