Queunliskanphobia? Perhaps

     The first one landed just below my left eye. No mucous membrane involved, so maybe I lucked out. There was little possibility of catching one of their disgusting diseases, unless the skin on my cheek was broken. My heart beat faster, as I turned and saw the lunatic who had done the deed. He's doing it on purpose. He knows, I know but right now it's impossible to do anything about it. My time will come, you can't spit at me and not pay for it. I'll get you, you'll be in my notes. 

     I've been through this before. Day Rooms and walking with the crazy ones had become part of my life. I know the routine. I've only been here a few months, but I know how to play the game. Though my brain may be on fire, filled with rage and hate, I must always remain composed on the outside. I was always calm, meek perhaps. I was a blank slate, unreadable and unknowable. I was very good at this.

     As I turned, another one hit me on my right cheek. You bitch! I see you. I know you did it. She stood there looking behind me, with a smile on her face. It wasn't a smile with teeth, more of a smirk that said, "Yeah, I did it, whatcha gonna do about it?" At first, I thought it was just him, but no, not now. Now it was him and you, you slut. I'll get you just like I'll get him.

     They were very good at what they did. I watched them, it was impossible to detect. How can you talk and spit at the same time? I didn't know, but I knew they could do it undetected. My notes would have to be more detailed now. I will figure it out. I will get both of you. I was watching them. I was watching everyone. I know what they are thinking.They want to hurt me, they want me to suffer. It's not going to happen. In the end, I will win!

     I rinsed my face. I checked for breaks in the skin, nothing. Those two were lucky for now. Their time was coming, though it was at my pace. Anyone who wants to hurt me, time is short for all of you. I always keep my back to everyone, when I write my notes. I want to write so only I know what it means. If anyone else sees them, they will think it is all chicken scratch.

     People had intended to harm me all my life. For as long as I can remember, it was me against the world. For years, I had fended off all attempts. I was successful, but grew tired of always being on the defensive side of the fence. It was in my late teens that my devious plans began to take shape. It was ingenious, I was a genius!

     I set things in motion. Everything flowed like a calm river, gently moving towards the ocean. The waters would get there in time, just as I would get where I belonged. The notes followed. The notes were good. They made sure I didn't forget anything or anybody. I had no need for my photographic memory, I had my notes.

     As I walked into the Day Room, I could hear them thinking. I know what you want. You all think you are so smart. You will pay for your arrogance. I will get those, who need their come uppance. Then my lip, it hit my friggin' lip! That's it! Game over! I can't believe it was someone else. I thought I had it figured out. I was wrong. Not one, not two, now three. Three meant four, four meant meant all of them were in on it!

     My mind raged! My brain was boiling with hate and vengeful disgust! My heart was pounding out of my chest, sweat was pouring down my face. I was irate, on the verge of exploding. Composed, I must remain composed, that's my most important job. They will never know until it is too late. I checked the mirror, there was no sweat. I cleaned my lip numerous times, knowing there was only one way to truly rid the world of these germs. My brain still boiled, but my ability to compose myself had become an art form. I had gotten very good at what I did, excellent perhaps.

     I will finish my notes, get some sleep and then begin to execute my plan. I like that word, it has such a pleasant ring to it, execute. These people would pay for what the world had done to me. It wasn't a large group, but large enough to satiate my hunger for revenge, for now.

     Day after day, month after month, years in, years out, people were either trying to hurt me, or worse they were trying to tell me how to live my life. "Ya got ta getcha a good job", or "Ya needs to getcha a good edgiecation." Obviously most of them had neither. They could barely speak English and lived in dumps. They called them homes, I called them dumps. Those were the kind of people trying to tell me, ME, how to live.

     I actually tried what they said, didn't work out yet. My desire for revenge still burned! HA! My desire burns, and so will my enemies. Their eternity in Hell, would begin with a preview during their final moments on Earth.

     After much thinking, in the end the decision was always the same. The tool that made humanity's existence on this planet possible, would help quench my thirst for revenge. Fire! I will send all those bastards to Hell via Fire! Appropriate, wouldn't you say. 

     This can't be like last time. There has to be no one, or anything left. My initial attempts had proved fruitless, more like amateur hour. The last time my homemade fuse looked like a hummingbird winging it's way toward the oil soaked papers in seconds. If not for some near by bushes, I might have been caught. As usual, I was too quick, too smart. A trash fire, they called it They were right. It was a fire intended to empty the world of some human trash. This time, I was better prepared. I'd be the last one suspected, quiet, calm, me. HA! Guess again.

     On a Day Trip with The Looney Tune Brigade, I slipped away and purchased 60 feet of 1.8mm  Prime Chinese visco fuse. Those words meant nothing to me. What was important was the burn rate. It took 30 seconds to burn 1 foot of fuse. Waterproof too, though that was not a selling point for me. It would give me 25-30 minutes to become The Innocent Angel. All I had to do was wait until all were asleep. The slow burning fuse led to gas soaked rags. Rags were stuffed in the furniture and behind the curtains. It was so easy, when you are so smart. Educated, if you will. Maybe my schooling was paying off at last. My time had come, their time was going.

     The last night was easy. I finished all my notes, everything should always be in order. Must be in order. I would have plenty of time before the flames started. No one would suspect me. I just do my job. I keep my notes. I am so calm, I am making myself nervous. I am so at ease. I can already taste the revenge. It smells like a London Broil cooked rare to medium. That's what it makes me think of, a nice juicy steak.

     As it always happens, just when you are making plans, life gets in the way. Notes in order, fuses lit. All quiet on the soon to be ablaze front. I calmly start to leave, but hear my name called. I turn and my supervisor says, "You forgot to sign these." Just a couple of silly notes, but my signature was required. I signed and the printed underneath, Robert Brown-Charge Nurse-Psych Unit 24.

     I yawned as I walked to my car and continued to do so, all the way home. Seeking revenge can be so tiring and never ending.

Copyright, November, 2014, Robert Dunne