People: the ramblings of a madman

The Story Written by a Madman

   The Power of Deception
           

The small koi fish leaped out of the water desperately trying to grab a piece of cornbread Mark was dropping into the pond. Mark had no last name he had no idea where he was or what he looked like. The last thing before this moment of tranquility was his name and the somehow ominus word 'test'.  He somehow knew word to one place where he felt at home, a koi pond, Mark subconsciously knew the words, rope fish fins and colors. It seemed strange to Mark that he would find himself at peace watching fish swim happily around, he thought he should panic at the fact he could only remember the word 'test'. Mark checked his  watch which hung in a necklace around his thin neck. He wore a small brown tunic with brown shorts. Mark watched this fish for what felt like hours, slowly drifting into  sleep. The orange and black koi splashed in the water circling each other swiftly forming an orange ying-yang shape. At this time Mark was fast asleep, dreaming about the peaceful koi, and the swaying of their fins.
He was startled to be woken in a hammock between two palm trees, how he knew they were palm Mark had no clue. To his right was the koi fish pond, to his left was a teal shade of shamrock bubbling with white foam, pummeling a power like substance which was a light shade of gold. Entranced by this strange new environment Mark approached the aquamarine beast and sat, watching the odd creature He shaped the golden grains to create various structures, koi fish, a pond using the substance the creature was constructed out of. The koi leaped from puddle to puddle as Mark watched in glee. After what felt like days of fun Mark was dissatisfied and tired, and quite frankly bored. Mark knew no pain, hunger, or other symptoms for spending your days on vacation,although deep in Mark's core he knew it wasn't a vacation, Mark was special. Once again Mark fell asleep, this time he dreamed or more accurately had a nightmare, the only fear that could reach him.Test one of two words Mark knew scared him, he felt something distasteful about the word test. He dreamed that this investable test was a terrible thing which caused him to wake once more.
Now Mark was in a flat  area filled with tall maroon and dark green grasses, it was a vast empty land where Mark's thoughts roamed freely. Looking back to the koi pond, the highest layer was solid with a clear, thin sheet of slightly blue substance. White slivers floated downward, astonishing Mark and drifting onto the ground. Another strange thing happened to Mark, nearly every three seconds some type of floating powder which was semi-clear semi-white appeared in front of Mark's gasping face.The shock of such a complex shape nearly made Mark pass out, rather than shock it was the exguation of walking around and exploring this colorful land.
Mark slept peacefully dreaming of nothing at all, this thought put Mark on edge, his hair stood on end and this caused him to wake up and panic, he s footsteps behind him and ran, he didn't know where he was or where he was going. Only one thought went through Mark's mind at that moment, run the word came to him as fast as his legs traveled, Mark put the pieces together, this was the test, to escape whatever was chasing him. Mark bolted away from the sound of footsteps but his legs were tired and his lungs were screaming to stop. Just as he slowed down, Mark fell onto the surprisingly squishy ground, and passed out once more.His next dream was a flash of images, Mark couldn't describe the images or how he knew what they meant, but he understood what the message they were trying to tell him were. The dream had one message to send to Mark, and it was delivered. That would only be his pre-test, a preparation for the real test.
Mark awoke, and stared at his new surroundings, a blue tinted area. Filled with strange creatures similar to the koi, only bigger. Mark explored this new land, and had a strange urge to keep his cheeks puffed out word as if to supply oxygen. There were large magenta, green and red shapes stood grounded, shapes of all other colors floated around Mark in a frenzy. Some had fins similar to the koi but others seemed to drift aimlessly, going no-where other than forward. It was an organized mess, it was disoriznied but in perfect harmony, the blinding colors mixed with the pattern of the same golden powder, green rope like objects jetted out of the power, swaying side to side.  At peace while watching the swaying Mark fell asleep, he dreamed of the strange things he had seen, the golden dust and the majestic odd koi.
Mark found himself in a red, yellow and brown hole, he stared at  the walls of the hole which were brightly painted brown, tan, red and  yellow. An edge high above Mark was covered in white circular objects with a small yellow dot piercing the center. They waved similarly to the green ropes but only in one direction, and lost a few bits of white each time. Mark wandered around the hole, which split into many different sections. The edges ended,  leading into a pond where a brown pole with dark-green head slumped into the area. Bits and pieces of the droopy head fell into the pond, alarming koi which circled each other similar to the first time Mark saw koi. Once more like the first time, Mark fell asleep after what felt like hours of watching the koi.
When he woke Mark was inside of a pyramid made of a slippery and smooth material, he walked outside to see a rough landscape, mounds of rock and dirt were in all directions, in fact Mark was in front of a large rock meaning he was on one himself. Mountains!  the word struggled in Mark's throat before coming out powerfly. Mark looked around, peering at the highest mountain he could. The semi-clear semi-white mist came out of Mark's mouth once more, this time though, it was in much less quantity. Mark beagan to climb  the mountain, leaving the pyramid behind him. Each peak was covered in the same substance as the koi pond was in the grassy land. It seemed to take an hour each peak he reached, and it never felt satisfying enough. Going this brutally slow pace Mark began to tire, resting more and more often as the hours went by. He was not counting peaks, rather the blows of mist out of his mouth each second,  4204800 was when Mark stopped counting. Mark knew not what the number meant or what its significance but when he stopped counting he grew even more tired, until the point when he stopped for a last time. He passed out from exhaustion at the 4204800th breath. Mark slept a quite still sleep, dreams of the ominous test getting closer each second, hour and possibly day.
Mark woke for the ninth time, surrounded by green bustling trees, waved at Mark and Mark waved back. Watching brilliant blues, vibrant violets and gorgeous greens. The light green furred base of a tower was thriving with small moving pebbles. Suddenly something appeared in Mark's vision. Then once more another, then another, it was a barrage of fast falling drops. Mark watched as each drop fell onto the tallest petal, then dropped and landed on the next, then the next. It seemed magical like a wonderland of blindingly beautiful colors and odd falling drops. Mark wandered around, occasionally bumping into the soft, squishy towers. Mark peered through the green drop carriers, and pushed them aside. An opening appeared, leading to the golden dust area with the same blue crashing monster. Standing between these Mark could see the mountains around the area, and on the mountains a large moron grassed area he had been before. Mark climbed the mountains once more, and the view from the top peered over into a large hole. The same hole he was in some many times ago, then he approached the crashing monster. He leaped to pounce on the monster but fell through it into the same colorful, swaying land as before. In the center of all of these memories Mark was in harmony, and fell asleep on last time.

A strange noise blaried which woke Mark with a shock. The first sound Mark Windon had heard in 10 years. A door, the only door Mark had seen, opened revealing a small man in a white coat with a writing, the first writing Mark had seen for 10 years which unknown to Mark read : Micheal Stord. The man walked over to Mark, his shoulders tense as if near a wild animal, ready to pounce but there were only koi fish. Mr. Stord removed a clear tube taped to Mark's skin that Mark had not noticed since the day he was placed here. Where was here? Who was this man? What did the tube mean? Suddenly the world seemed to inverse itself, the memories returning to Mark in a way similar to a stream after a dam was removed. Mark remembered where he  was, who he was and why he was there, unfortunately for Mark the moment he was about to question how long it had been another man walked in. This man was wearing a blue jacket with a red tie swaying as he walked, a therapist Mark recalled. "His sense of reality is stabilizing at an oddly swift rate." The first man said, Mark followed the IV chord on his arm and followed it to a large container, which held his food and water supply, all automated so Mark would not starve. Mark once more examined his 'home' for the previous 10 years,a padded cell in an insane asylum. He regarded his clothing, a brown tunic with brown shorts, not a straight jacket, Mark Windon was not insane, just a test subject. The koi fish pond, cornbread, the adventures  had all been created in the previous 10 years of Mark's 33-43 year old mind. "I'm still a rational Doctor, just curious, how long has it been?" Mark's tongue felt dry as he had not a single object other than his fingers enter his mouth to quench his thirst. "15 long years, I'm sorry. Do you remember who you are?" Asked the impatient therapist who was pacing his red tie swinging like a kite on a windy day "My name is Mark Windon, I am now 33 plus 10 equals...43." "Very good, with some therapy lessons for the next year or two you should be free to go Mr. Windon." Mark smiled a real, honest smile.  The fifteen areas may have been imagined but they taught Mark Windon about himself. The man in the padded cell was not insane, just an object for testing, and now he was free. Every day of his life Mark wondered, was he still in the padded cell imagining his life? Was his release fictional, a figment of his imagination?