Colors of Sanity

Chapter 3

     Adofo's  eyes snapped open at the sound of... Nothing. Paranoia, not a big surprise. It was kind of... His friend now, always by his side, always being there for him. Whatever was in his pocket... The headless green snake, he remembered, was now nothing more than mud. The memory of his short trek through the jungle days ago flashed through his ravaged mind once again. Oh well. It was to dark to see, with only a small window cut into the scrap-metal wall. Handywork of the pocketknife he had found in the pocket of a comrade he had searched when he visited the tent again. It was completely stripped of everything except the bodies. American sloths. It was still raining outside. It had been for days. Leaning up, he compressed his abdominal wound with... The... Missing  turnequitte... Into one big mass that bled a mixture of orange, black, and purple liquids. Blood no longer resided there.

     Stepping out into the acidic rain, into the village proper, or what used to be the village proper, he thought back to the previous weeks. Squadmates killed, ran for hours, sank into the leaves, charm on the necklace. Groggily walking back into the building, he discovered it was still there, hanging onto one of the broken monitors. Examining it closer with a slow move of a deteriorated arm, he could not see the significance of it. It was simply a little, what he presumed aluminum, charm in the shape of the horse it resembled. It sure was adorable though. The backside of it had what looked like a brand logo, but he couldn't read exactly what it said, with the lack of food, sleep, blood, and sanity. He could, hardly, make out the letters "H--b-o" and "F---t---hy", but it hardly mattered to him. It did, however, keep him preoccupied. A savior. It was mostly the colors, but day after day he couldn't stop looking at it.

     He thought maybe it helped with his mental problems. What mental problems? "I'm not crazy!" He thought to himself. Once again. He grew bored and he stuffed it into the pocket that didn't have the mashed snake inside, and started back out the door. As he was walking, he got the feeling, that he was being.. Watched. He quickened his pace and headed directly for the forest that lay nearby. His body had gone too long without sustenance, and was quickly destroying itself  The forest was abundant with snakes, rodents, and birds, but, again, with his lack of food, sleep, blood, sanity, and know-how, he failed to capture the smallest thing, save for a small frog he pulled off a tree. It was bright orange. He swallowed the frog whole, enjoying the tickling feeling he got with it sliding down his throat, squirming around. Minutes after longer searching, his head suddenly felt like a brick just hit it. And his stomach. He collapsed upon the muddy ground.

     He heard voices, some sounded fake, others were from the men that were standing in front of him, heavily armed, and with brilliant, green, flaming footprints behind them. He was hoisted onto the back of one of them, and the world turned black. He was soaring through the air, everything a cloudy haze, with his 2 favorite brothers, Osahar and Muhammad. They were both clothed normally, and seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as Adofo was. They had just finished talking about the Abu El Haggag Moulid festival that will be taking place in Cairo in a couple weeks. Horseracing and music were two of his favorite pasttimes. This dream ended suddenly with his eyes groggily opening, and he appeared to be on an operating table, with lots of people around, in a tent much fancier than any of his. He was completely naked, and he had many scars on him, but there was one that stretched from the middle of his clavicle to his waist. And it was red. And covered in stitches.

     One man with a surgeon's scrubs approached him and said,

     "Look who's finally awake. You know how many people uh yours we've killed, but somehow you've gotten away? Your A...Dofa ain'tcha? Yeah, all the dyin' breaths uh men, an papers we've recovered, point to you existin', but  we ain't managed to get you yet. Now we do!" the man started giggling happily and did a little jig. He appeared too happy about this.

"You know what you did? You killed mah' brother, you son of uh bitch!" with the last word, he slammed his fist into Adofo's chest, not illiciting much pain but forcing him to cough. Blood. The man's face was now coated with tears, and was red.

"You KEELED HIM!" he was absolutely balling now and was huddled on the floor.

     "Alright, let's go." one man in layers of protection said to Adofo. Him and another picked up Adofo, and draped his arms around their shoulders.

     He could hardly move, and did not care much where they put him. He instantly regretted saying this when they put him in a chair and handcuffed one arm and one leg to the bars. Another man sat across from him, what seemed to be the same man who had taken the cigar from his tent.

     "Well, little Egyptian. You appear to be the last revolutionary that's around here. We were ordered to kill every last one of 'em, and you are the last one. I'd like to clear your thoughts before we send you to Hell. America is simply taking control so we can protect everyone. We are-," he was cut off by another man, dressed similar to him, arriving in the doorway.

"Sir?" the interrogator managed after a few awkward moments of silence. The other managed to make a "Come here" motion. The interrogator sighed and walked over to him. There was a key on the table. The one used to lock the handcuffs.

     Adofo snatched it with his free hand, and quickly set himself free. He bowled through the two men at the doorway, and sprinted toward a random room. It was another operating room, with an opened body on the table. He dove over the table, and his foot got caught on it and he fell face-first into the dirt floor. Another soldier came running through the doorway, and immediately stomped on his chest. Leaving behind a brilliant green fire. But Adofo didn't feel it. He was too preoccupied staring at a bright white light on the ceiling. It seemed so peaceful, so... Out of reach from these monsters. He hardly heard a man scream.

     "Don't kill him! Set him back on the table!" Adofo didn't want to move, didn't want his peace disturbed. He noticed a small charm on one of the necks of the doctors. It appeared to be a yellow horse with wings, green eyes, and a long pink mane. The thought was still in his mind when he absent-mindedly pulled the pistol out of the holster of an unsuspecting soldier and shot himself in the head with it.

(Author's note: Don't worry, this is not the end.)