Chapter 11: "What in god's name is going on here?"
This was the day Blaze would show me what lead to his death: the day he committed murder on another patient. It wasn’t hard to hide the fact that I was excited. I needed a rush that I wouldn’t get in trouble for causing. These were Blaze’s final hours to himself before he was killed from electric shock. This day was exciting yet agonizing. I’ve never witness a murder before, let alone watch someone suffer in an electric chair.
We sat in the halls where no one was passing by. Blaze had a cigarette sat between his lips as we sat in the silent hallway. I felt relaxed; I was able to unwind my tense nerves. I watched from the corner of my eye as Blaze exhaled clouds of white smoke into the air. I played with the ends of my hair to keep myself somewhat entertained.
Seconds, minutes, hours -- time passed by as the tension grew stronger. The moment Blaze would commit murder was making its way here the longer we sat here.I turned to see Blaze with his eyes shut and his head leaned back, cigarette between his lips as the tip continued to burn. He seemed so calm and collected, yet so deep in thought.
Blaze grabbed the cigarette from his lips and opened his eyes and turned to me. Seeing Blaze calm and silent was such a weird sight; Blaze always has his guard up and seeing him let that guard down for even a few minutes was something I thought was interesting.
“I have a question,” he spoke softly as he sat up. I nodded, signaling for him to continue. “No matter what happens, do you promise to not leave?”
I felt shock and confusion wash over me. “What makes you ask that?”
He ran his fingers through his hair and took a drag from his cigarette. “I don’t know,” he sighed, smoke escaping his lips. “I’ve been thinking about all the people who have left me because of what I’ve done. My parents, my sister, my ‘friends’ ...my own guard even got sick of me. I act so hard and have a wall around me because it’s so much easier to act angry at the world than letting people in who’ll just hurt me in the end. I don’t know how you did it but you’ve discovered more about me than anyone has and we’ve only known each other for what? A few weeks?... Anyways, I’m a messed up person, I know, but all I need to know is I have someone to be there for me in some way, shape, or form.”
I was astonished. Blaze was trusting me to be the person who wouldn’t leave him after everything that’s happened to him. I didn’t expect his high, hard walls to be broken down to easily. Especially by me. I admit, Blaze has told me his life story and a great amount of information in a short period of time, but I feel as if this is all too soon. Besides, he’s dead. I still have many more days ahead of me.
I heard Blaze let out a low, bitter chuckle. “I expected you to react like this. I mean, I’m stuck being the way I am forever -- a psychotic murderer mental patient. But you still have the rest of your life to become someone. I can’t change who I am. I can’t change what I did. I’m permanently messed up and I can’t do anything to change that. Who would trust someone like me?”
Empathy filled my system as I listened to Blaze speak. For years, Blaze has felt nothing but sorrow and loneliness. I didn’t want to be another person adding to his ongoing pain he has to deal with for years on end. The last thing I wanted was for Blaze to build his walls back up because I’ve left him alone for the rest of his existence.
“I promise I won’t leave you.” I said.
Blaze looked at me, shocked. I stuck my pinkie finger out and waited for Blaze to do the same. He stuck his pinkie out and we locked our fingers together, making the promise official. We let go of each other’s fingers and stared at each other quietly. He kept his eyes locked with mine for what felt like forever before he slowly leaned closer. He puckered his lips and closed his eyes, going in for a kiss.
My eyes widened; was he seriously doing this? I quickly threw my hand over his lips, rejecting the kiss. Blaze awkwardly coughed and I put my hand back down to my side. “Sorry,” he muttered, turning back to his cigarette. I scooted an inch away from him and moved my gaze to my lap. I wasn’t sure how to describe that moment more: unsettling, awkward, or embarrassing. I wasn’t planning on making out with Blaze anytime soon.
A low laugh erupted near us, making the two of us look up. There was a man with his arms completely covered in tattoos and had light brown hair falling out of places. “Well isn’t it little Blaze Dixon. Or should I address you by your real name The Devil of Mills Mental Institution?” the man laughed. Blaze stood from his spot with a tough posture, cigarette still at the rim of his mouth. I watched from where I sat silently.
The man ripped the cigarette from Blaze’s mouth, flicking it into his face. The older man let out another laugh. “You really think you’re better than me? You’re the little psycho who terrorizes this institution and talks to imaginary friends.” I had a strong feeling he was talking about me since Blaze and I have been talking the past few minutes.
“Leave her out of it,” Blaze huffed.
The main raised his eyebrows in amusement, “So you have a little girlfriend, huh? I get that you’re lonely, but jeez, imaginary friends?” he continued to laugh. I didn’t understand why I mattered to the situation so much. I had nothing to do with anything, why pull me into this mess?
I was able to tell Blaze’s temper was growing shorter and shorter. I knew once Blaze’s anger was present, things wouldn’t be good. I watched as Blaze picked up the still lit cigarette and stabbed the burning end into the man’s forehead. The man yelped in pain as his skin burned. At that same moment, the man grabbed Blaze by the shoulders and slammed his body against the wall. The man kicked Blaze in the gut and screamed insults left and right. “You’re a nobody!” he screamed. “Your parents hate you, that’s why they left you here. You’re nothing but a waste of space!”
I wanted to help so bad, but I knew my actions wouldn’t matter. I wasn’t even born yet for god sakes, so even if I screamed and punched the man, nothing would worn. I sat there and watched Blaze take punch after punch, kick after kick. It was killing me to watch the scene.
The man soon pulled a blade from his pocket and held it against Blaze’s throat. I shot up from my seat and covered my mouth in pure shock. I knew Blaze wouldn’t die this way, but this was too much to take in at once. From Blaze’s appearance -- bloody nose, swollen eyes, split lip -- to watching this man pull a pocket knife, it was insanity.
“What in god’s name is going on here?”
The three of our heads turned to see a guard and doctor at the end of the hall. I turned back to Blaze and the man to see the pocket knife in clear view. That’s when Blaze took matters into his own hand; he grabbed the knife from the man’s hand and pierced the knife into the man’s heart, making blood pour from his chest. The man let go of Blaze and fell to the floor. The guard violently grabbed Blaze while the doctor called for help for the injured man.
The guard continuously attempted to cuff Blaze, but Blaze fought off the cuffs each time. “I’m going to need back up,” the guard said into his walkie-talkie. Blaze continued to fight the guard. He then cut the guards wrist with the blade, making the guard release Blaze. Blaze began to back up from the guard and doctor with the knife held out in front of him as protection.
Guards appeared behind Blaze. One of the guards tackled Blaze to the ground and cuffed him while another guard confiscated the blade. Blaze was dragged through the halls with cuffs around his wrists and blood dripping down his face. I followed Blaze and the guard as we arrived to solitary confinement where Blaze was thrown onto the ground. “You’ll be staying here while your punishment is decided,” the guard closed the door behind him, leaving Blaze and I alone.
“I guess we’ll be playing the waiting game for a while,” I awkwardly chuckled.