Merry

A Case Study in Cognitive Formatic Descent

"It's twenty-fucking-thirty-five," Rob snarled at the television, "how is bad reception still a thing?"

He and Jasper stared on at the flickering screen as someone beyond the static spoke of outbreak and quarantine rising in the country. Meredith cooked eggs. Carefully. Trying to check the bottoms weren't burnt without splitting the yolk was like brain surgery for her nerves. Her husband liked them cooked a particular way, as did their five-year-old.

Although when Jasper hit her he didn't dislocate her jaw, didn't lie to the paramedics about it and expect her to do the same.

She laid the expertly-crafted breakfasts in front of her boys. Rob glanced at his own, his expression indiscernible. Jasper pushed his around the plate, apparently waiting for his father to begin eating first. Merry wondered if Rob had been lying to the boy again. He once told him that she was unwell, 'in the brain' he said. Now it was probably that she would poison them if she got the chance. Anything to get the boy on his side. She would never hurt her boys though, no matter how bad things got.

Static cleared from the screen, showing desolate streets in Manchester, London and Edinburgh. The anchor appeared again; though Merry saw his lips moving she took in none of what he said. To his right was a symbol formed from a brain and the diagram of some virus strain. Whatever it was, Glasgow hadn't been hit yet. Rob, sensing her linger, forced the eggs down his throat and held the plate back to her. Jasper did the same, gagging on his toast to which Rob scoffed quietly. Jasper didn't have parents, he had a mean friend and a maid.

"They were uneven." Rob said afterwards. "The top was all snotty, barely cooked."

"Sorry babe. Just out of it today." Came the usual excuse.

"What's new? Anyway, I'm at the shooting range today, with Declan. Aren't you late for work?"

"Have fun. Not late, no. I'll be okay."

"You'll be getting jabbed today."

"Sorry?" Her heart leapt into her mouth.

"Injected, the vaccine he's talking about." He gestured at the television. "Are you still asleep?" His fingers clicked in front of her eyes. "Government workers are trialing the CFD vaccine, you'll probably get called up."

"CF...yeah, maybe." She probably would've asked him to elaborate if her routine reaction of stay quiet and avoid ridicule hadn't kicked in. Rob told her she was stupid so many times that 'stupid' was Jasper's pet name for her. She almost began to believe it at times, though not fully. Not while she was still aware of the person he was, the intentions he held. The insane don't know they are, she would recite to herself. As long as you feel crazy you're okay.

*

The facial recognition scanner buzzed as the doors to the monolithic, moon-grey Government structure labelled 'Crisis Loans' slid open. The Crisis Loans office was just one of many facilities that had popped up during the outsourcing and privatisation of many of the Government's more demanding areas, facilities that loomed like monochrome growths over an already drab landscape. Even in her half-dreamstate Merry could see the dangers of such growth, the growth itself a symptom of instability the likes of which the planet had never known. That didn't stop her from applying though. A growing sector was a growing sector, and she needed the work.

That was a year ago to the day. She imagined a banner showing "MERRY 1 YEAR" and laughed bitterly. She wasn't seen as a human at home so why should work be any different? At least the people here were more like her; vapid, routine-beaten and emotionally lazy. It's easier to smile and nod that to engage in argument and her coworkers knew that a lot better than her family. At one point she thought that latching onto a stronger personality would be good for her, though she had simply used it as an excuse to give up completely, to relinquish any semblance of a personality and merely exist alongside his, serving, servicing, cooking, cleaning, working.