Fun in the Sun

Only fools bask in the sun. 

I watch two younglings play catch from the window of my cold living room. The foreboding glowing orb rests high in the sky, looking down at its next victims. 

My thoughts are disturbed by the ringing of my phone alarm, my boss is paging me. I shoot a quick text to my co-workers. Sorry, running late. Traffic. I collect my armor: a long sleeve shirt, gloves, baseball cap, scarf, ski mask, sunglasses, long songs, boots, and my trusty umbrella. 

After all, “Worse off is the simpleton who knows not to prepare.” 

I take the back door out, (I’m not allowed within 50 feet of children) and make my way towards the shed. Leaning against the brown wood wall is my trusty red bicycle.

“Let's go,” I say, and am on my merry way. 

I hum a tune as I ride, breathing in the bright smell of spring. The trip takes exactly 20 minutes and 22 seconds. 

I roll into work, tie up my bike, and hurry into the building. I take a sharp turn into the bathroom, hoping no-one spots me. 

“Steve?” Someone asks. 

Darn it! 

I turn around. 

“Jakeeeeeee! How are you doing?” I reply, faking enthusiasm. 

“Pretty fine if I might say so myself.” A pause. “One question buddy, what’s with all the gear?” 

Crap. Think, think, think!

“I cycled here,” I replied “On a motorbike, I mean.”  Lie. 

“Safety first, right?” He responds. 

“Yeah,” I give a tight smile, “I think I’m gonna use the John now.”  

“Of course! Sorry to keep ya. Hurry up though, meeting’s in five.”

I rush into the bathroom and skin off the protective layers of clothing. My boss can’t think I’m insane, even if I’m right. 

My phone continues to ring. 

Pressing snooze on the alarm, I rush out of the stall and head to room 305. 

The room was packed to the brim with men, all in dark brown or black suits. To my relief, all the curtains were shut. A movie about our recent sales decrease was playing on the screen. I take a seat and sit through the agony of boredom. At last, the music pauses and rolling credits fill the board. The sound of the familiar click of the projector being switched off fills the air. 

With no warning, the curtains are jerked open. 

I scream as I burn. 

My name is spoken on foreign tongues as the torment continues. 

The pain was real. 

My eye is opened by a woman wearing rubber gloves. She shines a flashlight towards it, checking for responsiveness. I open my other eye and blink. 

I must have looked dazed because the doctor started talking. 

“You passed out at work,” she stated, “Do you suffer from chronic migraines?” She retrieved a small notebook and pen from her pocket. 

I should lie, but I can’t. It’s time people know the truth. 

“The sun hates me,” I say. The doctor’s neck snapped up. 

“What?” She asked, eyes squinting. I stayed silent. After all, how could she know the sun wanted to kill me? 

“What do you mean?” She repeated, hoping I would respond. 

I swallowed a gulp, but didn’t answer. 

The woman rubbed her forehead. 

“I’ll be right back.”

I was in a room with windows only facing the hallway, phew. The sun couldn’t get me here. What exactly was taking her so long? 

A knock sounded at the door. 

“Come in,” I said. A tall woman with bright blue eyes and blonde hair stepped in, followed by the doctor. 

“Hello!” The blonde said, “I’m Dr. Nikki, but you can call me Sunny.” My heart beat violently in my chest. She had finally come for me.

“Get away from me,” I snarled.

“What was that?” The sun replied. I started screaming for help. I thrashed around the bed, hoping to get free from my restraints.

All of a sudden, I was being held down by doctors, so many of them. Some buff security guy was here too, keeping me from moving. 

That’s when I saw her standing next to me, smiling as she watched my defeat. 

“Get away from me! Get away from me! Get her away from me!” I shrieked and trashed until I felt a wave of calm wash over me, why was I so tired now?

This time I wasn’t in a hospital. 

I was in a psych ward. 

Sunny must have put me here, that nasty manipulator. Everyone probably worships her, the sun would, after all, have its way with charm.

I heard the groan of a lock spin. 

Entering the room was a man in a brown suit with a short beard. He had a name-tag, but for some reason, the name was blurred out. 

“Steeeeven, I understand you’ve been a difficult patient, but you’re going to have to cooperate with me okay?” He said, prolonging the first ‘e’ in my name. For some reason, his voice didn’t really match his face. I nodded, forever agreeable. His eyes crinkled in return. 

“Good.” He looked down at his clipboard. “So, Steeeeven, I wanted you to know that I’m going to help you.” His bloodshot eyes bore into mine. He looked like the last person who could help me. 

“You’ve gotta end her,” I stuttered out. 

“End who, exactly?” The strange man asked. I rolled my eyes. 

“As if you wouldn’t know.” I shook my head. Why did everyone always assume I had all the answers? 

Out of nowhere I let out a short and pitchy laugh. I twitched my head forward. I mean, if they already thought I was crazy I might as well act my part. The odd human stood up and backed towards the door. 

“Now look, Steeeeven, I don’t want to hurt you. You don’t want to hurt me, right?” He said, buzzing the button around his neck.

I leaned forward. “I know where youuuu live,” I whispered, extending the word ‘you’. 

I looked towards the ceiling and let out a low, menacing laugh. 

Pretending to be insane is very, very fun.