Of Men and Monsters

Seven: Sentencing

I took a seat in the chair, mildly annoyed by the mere existence of clocks. They had a clock in here, and if I had shut my mouth last night I would've noticed it.

I was waiting on the Interviewer, and I was getting more and more unhappy with every passing second.
Maybe this was a tactic to get me to break. It is working.

I took a second to just glare at the clock. I was left with my thoughts again. I wish it would shrink away from my glare as most people do.
And here I am, getting upset over a clock.

I looked away from the said object and took deep breaths. I shouldn't get mad at a clock, it's only doing what it is made to do. 

It had a purpose, and I did not. I sighed and let myself think.

You are already messing up. Things always get worse. 

And that is why I avoid listening to my inner dialogue. I began to feel a little tired. 

I looked at the clock and sighed. I decided to cross my arms and get comfortable. I closed my eyes and thought through all of the wonderful ways I don't want to die.

Drowning. Burning alive. Being shot. Choking. Heart attack. Cancer. Car accident. Falling down the steps. Literally any neck injury. Old age. Stroke. Alzheimer's. ALS/Lou Gehrig's disease. Accidentally falling, falling out of bed, champagne cork, electrocution, suffocating, internal bleeding, kidney or liver failure, collapsed lung, my ribs puncturing my organs. Tripping, being struck by anything from the sky, buried alive-

The door opened and I stopped thinking about death. 

I listened to the person walk in, and sit down. They cleared their throat.

I slowly opened my eyes. It wasn't the man, it was a woman. She seemed pissed off, which was relatable. 

"So, let's keep this short. I have places to be" She spoke with venom in her words.

"Just get to the fuckin' point already." I mirrored her tone and that caught her off guard. She recovered quickly, which earned her my respect. 

She picked up her clipboard and I knew what was coming next was not going to be nice. 

"The higher-ups reviewed footage-" She read ahead before speaking. "And you are now required to go to therapy once a week. You will be re-assigned and moved from your current sector." She set down the clipboard and looked me in the eye. 

I smiled, I was pretending I expected this. 
"It could be worse." I uncrossed my arms and made it look like I wanted to be where I was.

"Do you want to know what you are being assigned to?" She seemed kind of smug.
(That means that it's not gonna be pretty and my world is going to be tossed into a washing machine with a pair of dirty shoes, -and probably with the worst setting on. )

"Nope!" I stayed with the act I had begun.

"You will be assigned to SCP-049." She seemed to be smug.
I took a second to process that sentence, covering my shock with a quiet laugh.

"What happened to the team working on it?" I hadn't faltered for more than a second, and I was internally ready to die. Therapy and being in the same room as that stupid thing? Sounds like hell. 

"Something unfortunate." She seemed a little off-put by my behavior.

"Great! When do I start?" I was all smiles on the outside, but on the inside, I was panicking. 

I will have to go to therapy and talk about my problems. Maybe if I act like I am fine for long enough they will deem me fit to be without a therapist.  Then I can go back to my unhealthy coping strategies and hopefully only cry in the shower.