Hey guys this is Kat "Comic Uno". I made a story for my creative writing class and think it came out pretty well. So, I decided to share it on Comic Frontline. Please give me feedback on what to change and what you like about the story. Thank you!
“We are all actors just playing our parts. Going crazy is just having a wide imagination. I am just playing my part in the grand scheme of things. I am only here to entertain.”
They say that he killed dozens. He is a psychotic serial killer. I don’t remember the medical term they told me in the past. The simple definition is that he can’t feel for others and he has no remorse for his crimes. To me he is just my little brother.
I was able to leave my kids with my husband. I wanted to see my little brother for the last time. I walk into Bellevue Hospital. The sign I see while driving “Bellevue Hospital- A Hospital for the Criminally Insane”. Before I know it I am walking the hallway to my brother’s fully padded room. The walk seems longer than usual. Maybe because I realize that this will be the last time I will be able to see my brother before he is given the death sentence.
I never thought my brother would ever end up in a place like this. He never showed any signs of evil. There were no signs that he would kill dozens of innocent people. He was just my little brother that I always was too overprotective with.
Growing up he didn’t have many friends. He always wanted to sit in the corner and read his books. I still thought we were close. He would always talk to me like he cared. The doctor says that psychopaths are the best actors. I just can’t accept that our relationship was a lie.
I go up to the front desk and I show my identification. They let me in. I thought I would be able to see him in his room, but the nurse leads me into a different room. My brother is now set in an interrogation room. This will be the last place that he will have a conversation with someone. That last person will be me.
I drag a metal chair to the table. It screeches the ground and leaves black scuffmarks on the perfectly white floor. I see his face, and see two different things. My brother is in their somewhere, but what shows from his lack of facial expression is the killer I don’t want to know.
I hear the chains of his cuffs coming lose. The guards seem to be ignoring the problem.
My brother asks me, “Why did you come here?”
I tell him, “I care about you, and I don’t think you did those crimes. I promise I am going to try and clear your name.”
He says, “It’s too late. You can’t change what has been done. I am only an actor in the grand scheme of things. The actor accomplished the final act that everyone wanted to see, but was too scared to admit it.”
I cry to him, “You must have been forced. My little brother would never harm a fly. Who made you do this?”
My brother smirks, “You don’t quite understand. I had no motive and nobody forces me to do anything. I make my own decisions. Nothing is painted in black and white. I am gray.”
My brother breaks out of his chains and he starts to strangle me. Everything starts to go black. I am wondering why the guards are not trying to prevent this. Are they entertained? The last thought I have was they are just actors playing their part….
….I wake up in a white padded room.
The guard tells me that my brother is here to see me. I realize that my imagination has gotten the best of me once again. That is how I ended up here in the first place. I put on a fake smile, which I know how to do so well. I have been practicing it for years. It makes me seem like a real person of society that can play well with others.
My brother, wearing a perfectly crisp business suit, moves a metal chair to the table. It screeches the ground and leaves black scuffmarks on the perfectly white floor. He looks at my face and I wear the same fake smile I have been wearing for years.
He starts to talk to me, but I don’t hear a word. It seems like he cares. I wish I could return the favor, but I never cared about him. He should take my place. Why does he deserve to have the perfect job with the perfect family? Is this how life works? This doesn’t fit the grand scheme of things. My cuffs start to come lose.
I ignore what my brother says, but one thing sticks with me.
He says, “I always wanted to care for you sis. Even tried getting you help over the years, but I do believe you did this. I don’t understand why you do these things. Did this give you pleasure? I so sorry it had to be this way.”
I tell him with the straightest face, “I want to tell you why I do the things I do, but you wouldn’t understand. No one understands.”
The last thing I say is, “We are all actors just playing our parts. Going crazy is just having a wide imagination. I am just playing my part in the grand scheme of things. I am only here to entertain”
My brother looks confused and replies, “This is not some sort of game. You always thought life was a game, but life is precious. Can’t you see that now?”
I saw the tears in his eyes. I pity how naive he is.
The guards pull me away. I know my destiny, and for the next few hours the law pulls my strings. I become a puppet to society.