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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1403927-Tabula-Rasa-The-diary-of-Shawn-Cospen
Rated: 13+ · Other · Drama · #1403927
The shocking story of Shawn Cospen
And now the cops are here. I get squeezed into a small truck along with people I've never seen before in my life. It's very dark and cold in here. I hear someone outside shouting "Now you get what you deserve fuckers!". Many people shouted at me in my life so far but it never hurt me as much as it does now. I hear the engine starting, we're moving! Haven't been in prison before, but I know that's not the correct route. Where are they taking us? The moon is very bright and clear tonight, almost as if Big Luney's laughing at as all. The other people in here seem to be pretty nervous. One of them is praying. The truck stops in front of a huge building, I notice we're not downtown anymore. We're outside of the city now. The backdoor slowly opens, I can see the driver leading us out with his gestures. "Okay you skullfuckers, I don't wanna hear a single word of you folks without permission are we clear? Now follow me and count!". He's much of a drill-seargent!

The facility reminds me of a typical federal prison with one big exception: There's huge auditorium, bigger than any auditorium I've ever seen before. Now that I've signed all the papers and gave away everything that I carried with me, they lead me to my prison-cell. C-363, a figure I will not forget for a long time! As the prison-guard leaves, he unknowingly loses a writing pad with a pencil attached to it. I reach through the fence and grab it. My cellmate just stares at me and doesn't say a word. I hide the pad under my bed. I look at my cellmate again "So where are you from?". He doesn't respond. "What's the matter with you, haven't you learned how to talk?". He slowly opens his mouth. Dear lord, that looks awful! They cut out his tongue!

Day 2: Every prisoner is assembled in the auditorium. A sleazy creature enters the stage, trying to calm the "crowd" down. We get to hear a speech about how fabulous our government is and how our handsomous politicians want to solve "the problem". I don't know what the hell is going on here but I don't wanna stay in prison for a very long time, so I just listen and stay quiet like a good guy! Someone next to me leans over and whispers to me. "Pst you're new here right? Do not worry, the first seven days are the worst days in your life, but after that you've seen everything!" After the speech I have to visit a paramedic. They say it's just the usual routine. I get an injection, since I'm not a doctor I cannot tell which kind of liquid that was but I know that's not the usual stuff!

Day 3: Lunchtime! The buffet is even worse than I expected. I take a seat. What's that? Two people are quarrelling! The first punch is thrown. The guards "take care" of the problem, but one of those 2 cons is showing resistance! One of the guards takes out a taser. Mr. Riot is knocked down on the floor by the shock. He's seemingly unconscious but the guards just leave him lying there on the floor. The other inmates behave like nothing happened. They do not seem to care about his fate, no one does!

Day 4: His name was Bob, he had a pacemaker! They identified the corpse today. We have another meeting in the auditorium at 5 pm . Today they're going to show us a movie. It's called "Our government: The last hope". Normally I would be very sceptic about movies with such a title, but I'm somehow looking forward to it because it's the first time I get some entertainment in days. My fingers are trembling constantly, maybe it's because of all the injections I get.

Day 15: I had a horrible nightmare yesterday and it seemed so real. My cellmate committed suicide 5 days ago. The pencil has gotten almost too smooth to document more days. I often find myself falling asleep while working. The food is getting worse and worse. In the last few days I've seen more than a sane man could bear. I'll quit writing for a while.

Day 319: That's just a guess! In reality I stopped to count the days a long time ago. Right at the moment I'm writing with a pencil I found at the workshop. I haven't talked to a single person for days now. I'm feeling isolated and helpless! My injection, I need my injection! The sooner the better!

Day ?: Today is the day they finally let me out! I have to sign some papers again. "Shawn Cospen, born on the 5th of May 1985, arrested for tax fraud" They say, they already called my wife, she's going to pick me up. As I get out of the facility I cherish the smell of fresh air, I haven't been out for a year now! I see a black Honda parking in front of me. As the door opens I hear a voice calling my name. I look into her eyes and get a very estranged feeling, but maybe that's how it feels to see a beloved person again after a long time.

My house, my garden, my car... everything seems so new to me. I have to get some sleep now. Next morning I have to prepare myself for work again. I work in an office building downtown. As I enter the office I strangely get welcomed warmly by many different faces I don't remember anymore. I've definitely been in prison for too long. Luckily most of have place cards so I can identify them. I have to write an article about globalization today. Suddenly my desk-neighbour leans over to me and asks me if I want some coffee. I agree. Is that a Café Latte? "Janet how long do you know me now?" - "For about 3 years, why do you ask Shawn?" "Ah nothing!" I'm lactose intolerant, we know each other for 3 years now and she doesn't even know that.

As I get home my wife cooks my favourite meal: Pasta. At least I think it is my favourite meal, when I was in jail my favourite meal was pulp, because that was everything I got. After having finished my dinner I search for something to write on. Before I got arrested I never had something like a diary but now it has become a habit to write about the daily events. My fingers still tremble every now and then. I usually notice that when I write into my diary.

Today is my free day, I visit Tom's record store in the 14th avenue. This place looks very familiar. I most have been here before. I hear a voice behind me "Do I know you?" I turn around and spot a sales clerk "I think so!" He hesitates for a while and focuses on me "Yeah you've been here very often a year ago, how's your girlfriend?" -"I'm married!" "Well congratulations big fella!" As I walk down the street I notice one of those trucks again, just like the one that took me away more than a year ago! It is filled with people.

"Pets are always kept in cages, even if they are not already domesticated", yells a street-bum at me. I didn't realize him sitting there before. I don't know what he means by that phrase but I know I've got something new for my diary now. It's kind of scary to look at those trucks, so I turn away my head. Back at home I'm looking for my notes, but I can't find them anywhere. Having looked everywhere for a while I find it in the bed table of my wife and something else! There's a handgun in it, I didn't know that my wife owns a gun and it's quite frightening if I think about it. Even though I'm tempted to ask her, I decide to keep the fact that I found her gun secret.

Next day at work I have to show my boss my articles and corrections. His office space is empty, he must have left to get some coffee. I look at his computer, there's a strange task opened called "Informed contacts". Normally I'm not a nosy person but I want to give it a look. The opened site seems to be a private site protected by a password. I scroll down a bit and spot something strange: There are photos of my wife, my co-workers and even my next-door neighbours! I hear someone coming. I quickly put the task down again and get away from the computer.

I show the articles to my boss. "What's that Shawn, these articles show the president in a bad spotlight!" I'm completely baffled by his response, I thought the articles should be close to the truth and not partisan. There are too much strange things going on lately, I'm ready to talk to my wife now. I leave work early, my shift is not over yet but I don't care, I need to know what's going on. I take a cab today, not the bus as usual. As I arrive at my house I hear the voice of a stranger coming through the bedroom window. I silently open the front door and sneak to my bedroom. There's a strange man inside, he holds my diary in his hands and looks through all my stuff. He talks about getting rid of all that stuff which could "remind me". My wife is also in the bedroom, she seems to know this man. As he wants to leave the room I get so steamed that I surprise him and knock him unconscious with a punch.

Klick! "Freeze, stay where you are!" I can't believe it, my own wife is pointing a gun at me! "Come on put that down, let me talk to you". I see tears in her eyes. "Give me that thing". She hesitates but then she hands me her gun. Strange feeling to hold a gun in my hand, I detest weapons. "What's going on here and furthermore who are you?" She asks me to sit down. I do as she said. "Your name is Kevin Durant, you haven't been arrested for tax fraud, you were in a group of militant anarchists planning attacks on politicians." She tells me, that the life I'm living at the moment was decided for me by the government, that I had a family before I was arrested and that this "prison" is part of a new secret project of our government. The premise of the project is to turn rebels into representative pets of our nation, alienating them from their former life and contacts. My parents, my girlfriend and everyone I knew before my "therapy" have been told that I died in a traffic accident. In other words: I was a victim of the complete defiance of ethics and civil rights! Someone just decided over my life and future without even knowing me.

"Well, I can't stay here I have to go now" - "What about me, what if they find out that I told you about all of that?" I look at her and think of the best answer but all I can come up with is "Now you know how it feels..."

The End? (Depends on you, if you liked the story)
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1403927-Tabula-Rasa-The-diary-of-Shawn-Cospen