Law and Insanity

Chapter III

A gentle sensation tickled Nicholas' cheek with a surrounding and rising fashion. To this he awoke from his trance, finding a thin layer of water engulfing the wooden floor on which he lay. His mind numb and his body in aching pain, he latched onto the edge of the sink with his good hand, where the sink was also overflowing like a waterfall. The calm noise of whisking water relaxed Nicholas, but he knew the zen-like state in which he was in had no permanence. He slowly forced himself up, leaning his chest against the flowing water and finally getting to his feet. He looked around, finding that the entirety of his kitchen, which was thankfully on another level from the connecting living room so that it didn't spread, had been flooded. He glanced upon the sink, which was steadily streaming water onto the floor. He had been unable to shut it off the night prior.

For once, Nicholas had felt stable on an emotional level, and reacted properly for such a situation; he sweared out his misfortunes. He sloshed his way out of the room to the bathroom, searching for materials to clean the mess. He found none.

"I see I'm going to need to go into town again..." He grumbled, being one that typically disliked the larger cities. "Do I even have gas to get there? For Christ's sake- pardon me- but what did I do to deserve this?" He began mumbling to himself, "Stupid- Now they're going to charge me a fortune for the water, the damned association." He peered into the mirror, spotting his purple burn marks, still bubbling with blood. He looked down and decided to poke it, to which he flinched with pain and made an alveolar click with unreleased velar articulation, presumably out of annoyance. He reached to the side of the bathroom sink and ripped a large wad of toilet paper, running it under the faucet for a few seconds before gently applying it to his damaged chest and platysma, while also feeling a sore sensation upon his sternocleidomastoid, likely from the uncomfortable position he had slept in. After a few cycles of wadding, wetting, applying and teeth-gritting, he stepped out and continued down the narrow hallway into his room. He turned the corner and was suddenly reminded of another issue he had to take care of: his burnt desk. Suddenly, a realization had set upon him.

"No! It can't be. Curse my terrible luck!" He scraped the burnt remains of case files off his charred desk, of which he was also reminded of its date. He was expected to fight for a Samuel Garcia, a young man convicted of smuggling drugs from Colombia into the United States. He'd been caught just the month before, and Nicholas was expected to be present within the court in just three days. He looked miserably at the piles of burnt paperwork and evidence, only able to recover a few pages of unimportant degree. He briskly walked to his front entrance, still undressed (but he didn't care for he lived far from anyone) and entered a small tool-shed on the side of his cabin. He retrieved a large sledgehammer and garbage bag, and returned to his room. Without much hesitation, he slammed the hammer into the desk, breaking it apart, and placing the smaller pieces in the bag. He also threw away the things which rested atop the desk, including the haunting lamp, which caused all his misfortunes.

Once he had cleaned the corner of his room to the best of his abilities, including scrubbing the wall with a wet sponge he'd retrieved from the swamp-like kitchen, he took the bag and placed it outside his bedroom. In the meanwhile, he pondered of his interaction with Satan, and why he would so suddenly suffocate him as he would speak of love. He thought about many things during his time cleaning, but none as enchanting as the thought of why he became so docile, to the point where he himself noticed it. Regardless, he grabbed a change of clothing, slowly putting it on out of pain, and headed outside.

As an attorney, he made an extravagant salary, but decided not to spend it on housing, but only on vehicle. It was quite a sight- a wooden cabin in the middle of nowhere, housing a brand new car, made in 1981. He climbed in, avoiding too many movements that would