America the Poor: A Wanderers Tale, Vol Two

Chapter 2: A Place of Madness, for a Young Lunatic

The Cheektowaga police drove me to the station, as was their job. They took down my info, packaged in plastic all my possessions, including the small rocket engine, labelled as an "explosive device". They called my grandparents, but I spent the night in a cell. The charges ranged from trespassing, carrying explosive devices, and possible terroristic threats, even though I made no actual threats, but it turns out none of that mattered whatsoever in the end. At that point, I was classified as mentally ill, dangerously so, and my future was decided with a simple signature. My grandfather showed up that very night, but I wasn't released to him. I guess I was too risky at the time.

The next morning the proper papers were signed. I had a short conversation with a local psychologist brought to my cell, which lasted about 15 minutes. By my actions I was classified as mentally deranged, and to undergo complete evaluations, though I made no actual threats (besides the blonde giant who picked me up and tossed me like a ragdoll, I HATED that guy, and would gladly watch him suffer horribly).

They again cuffed me, as though I were a young cannibal, hungry for human flesh, and the worst possible threat to a civilized society ever to live. They threw me in the back of a much plainer official car, although still driven by a single policeman. There was of course a grill between rider and driver, but the vehicle was grey and unmarked. After about 30 quiet minutes of driving, I decided to speak up and ask my single driver where we were finally headed. He looked back at me, smirking, and said "you are heading to the loony bin kid, right where you should be″.

After his evil look, and given his unpleasant nasty attitude, I asked him no more questions. It seemed pointless. I just sat in the backseat of the cop car in handcuffs, and noticed literally everything. I was utterly helpless, but amazingly alert, witnessing landmarks, streets, buildings, vehicles, pretty much everything, and kept myself ready for escape, if at all possible. If the opportunity came, I know I would have taken it, as was my very nature.

Some beings are far less confinable by our nature, and will literally fight it tooth and nail every step of the way, that was me as well. I found it utterly insulting, and it angered me like Hell itself, as I still feel to this day. It's a slap in the face to any thinking being, and I've had this view all my life, literally every time I've ever been sadly confined by force. I resist any and all cages that are imposed upon me, and I will till my dying breath, as all sentient beings should. I've never "gone quietly", as our society suggests we should do.

What right does anyone else really have, to confine us behind bars? How can forceful imprisonment not anger any smart or aware being? Death seemed almost preferable.

Helpless, a mere leaf in the wind, not to nature's whims, but to fellow human beings. Does not the very idea get your blood boiling, and make you wish to fight those sorry pitiful human chains? Although futilely? Like an angry Hulk, fighting your prison, bending those fucking bars, with every fiber of your being? I know I felt this way, from the very start. Freedom is literally priceless, but only those like myself who have lost it can truly attest to this.

Most humans in western society can't relate to this, but a very few really can. It burns my inner soul, and makes me fight as hard as I can against it.

I'd fight my chains, even unto death itself. As thinking beings, death is preferable to imprisonment, at least to me. I'd always struggle, as all real thinking beings should. Those who accept their confinement meekly and subservantly, , are weak beings to me, and always will be.

Eventually I was shuttled to my destination, a very large property, maybe a few miles in diameter, maybe more, It was large, lots of greenery. We turned off of the main road, and onto the private long road of the facility. We slowly drove down a long lonely road, past many smaller buildings, and I would have killed to have a single opportunity, a single accident, a means or distraction to escape my bonds. My cuffs were the ultimate insult to me and when we finally stopped, they were in front of me, rather than in my back, as I had slipped them using my thin legs and body, and I was ready for anything. I didn't care, I was a free creature, and whatever the consequences, I would fight for freedom, regardless of the price I had to pay.