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A note I found on my desk just after I took my medication

Byron Livingston

I had just gotten stoned when a knock came at my door. I got up and answered it, of course. It was a police officer. He asked me if I was me. I said yes though I thought it seemed like a silly question. He told me to come with him and I didn't have much else to do so I said OK. I figured it would be safe, him being a police officer and all. So he put cuffs on me. At first I was scared but he assured me it was just to protect me from myself. I've been told I can be a little self destructive so I thought it would be fine. Actually, once I thought about it a little more, I realized he was just trying to help me. It made me smile just a little when I thought about that. When we got to the station, the police officer put me in a room. I waited for a very long time in there. I was starting to lose my buzz. Finally, a man came in. He made me feel real comfortable at first. Then he asked me a few questions, weird questions, like about my childhood and family life, you know, personal stuff. But I like to have conversations and he made me feel at ease so I decided it would be alright. But after a while, I noticed his voice changing a little. I can be quite observant for certain things. He started asking me about some night a couple of weeks ago. He asked me what I had been doing, who I had been with, stuff like that, real personal. Well, I told him I couldn't answer those questions without an attorney present. I've watched all the crime shows. So he said he would have to arrest me on suspicion of first degree murder. I asked him what he was talking about and demanded an attorney. He said I could meet with my attorney in the clink. I think that's what he said. I didn't understand. I told him I had to take my medication. He didn't listen. I told him what would happen if I didn't take my medication. He laughed at me. Do you believe it? He laughed at me! So I dislocated both my arms by slamming my body hard against the wall. First on the right and then on the left. I lunged forward at the policeman and flung my arms up over my head and hit him right between the eyes with the cuffs. He went down. Then I relocated my arms using a trick I learned a number of years ago from a traveling magician. He was a master of escape. But he's dead now. Then I leaned over and got the key to the hand cuffs from the police officer's belt. It didn't take me long to find the right one, I'm an expert key smith. I once worked in a key shop for seventeen years. If you put a thousand keys and a thousand locks in front of me, it will take me only a thousand seconds to unlock all of them. But they fired me one day when they found out about something I did wrong once. I wished they hadn't done that so I made them understand why they shouldn't have. Well, with my cuffs unlocked, I figured I could go if I wanted to. I needed my medication bad but I was starting to feel better and, actually, the more I thought about it, the less I felt like I needed the medication. I knew I was supposed to take it so I didn't do anything wrong but I figured I could take it in a little while. Maybe I felt good because I was starting to get better. Maybe I wouldn't need to take my medication any more. Maybe I was cured! Now that I am cured, I can do whatever I want. I want to be a police officer. So I stripped the police officer and put on his uniform. It was a little big around the waist but it fit well enough. Anyway, I would probably run into more of them and maybe one of their uniforms will fit better. I always seem to run into them sooner or later. So I took the gun from the holster and hit the naked officer on the head with it. Naked police officers are sometimes known to tell tall tales about the one's who made them that way. But I only made them naked. They've been that way forever. I beat him until he passed. Then I strolled out of the police station. No one noticed me because I was wearing a uniform. I just kept my head down and walked out. It was surprisingly easy. I thought I would have had to kill at least a few of them and then they would have been looking for me. Now I can get away without all that mess. Anyway, you may be wondering why I am telling you all of this. Well, I did a little research on you. It seems that you take the same medication as me. So I will have to take over your life so I can continue to take my medication while I wait for all of this to blow over. I'm real sorry. I just don't see any other way. I wanted you to know that it wasn't your fault and I wanted to explain why I had to do this. I have to take your medication now. I don't want to hurt anyone else.

© 2000 Byron Livingston, all rights reserved
 appears here by permission

Author Notes

           I would like to publish a book. If anyone is interested in publishing my work or knows of a publisher who would be interested in my work, please email me. I would also love to hear any comments, good and bad: byron.livingston@thewritegallery.com.

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