He's found something that will mark the wall and now he's drawing images of a little boy locked in a tiny room with nothing at all, not even his clothes.
It's been several hours - by several, we mean twelve to fifteen, maybe more - Jarod has been singing and drawing on the wall. It's gone from one simple drawing of a little boy locked in a small room to a series of drawings that depict a series of events. The images are all in great detail, almost to the point of recognition - ie: if Mr. Raines were to walk through the door, Graham might be able to recognize him from the detail in Jarod's drawings.
The little boy locked in the small room. The little boy huddled and shaking in the corner of the room. The little boy being dragged from the room, fighting as much as he can, which is hard because he hasn't had anything to eat for days. The little boy being put in another room, this one with a big metal table and lots of machines that look like monsters to someone so young and afraid. The little boy being hooked up to the machines by wires that look like snakes and tentacles to someone so young and afraid. Then there is a piece of the series that looks like a big flash or an explosion, but inside the flash is a lightly traced word - PAIN. The next image shows the little boy being carried to his room, because he's no longer conscious after the experiment or 'test'. The next is the little boy awake, but curled in the corner, hands covering his head to keep the 'badness' out, but it won't go away, as indicated by the 'monsters' looming around the room.
Jarod is still singing as he continues to draw, to add to the series, continuing with what happens after the monsters in his room. The images don't get any happier.
At the moment, Jarod isn't really able to communicate verbally; he's regressed to a point where the song and the drawings are all he can do. The drawings probably tell more than anything else he could do; they're an explanation of why locking him in was a very bad idea. And while Stephen may have unlocked the door - by then, it was too late. The damage was done; it happened the moment Jarod was moved without his consent or permission. While to most people, this wouldn't have been a problem, to Jarod, it was a horrible violation of his freedom. He escaped the Centre to be free of people making him do things he didn't want to do. Sending him off without warning, while it may have been safe, gave him the sense of being back at the Centre, locked away for not doing what they wanted, the way they wanted. At that point, nothing was going to help. Not even Graham.
What will help now? It's hard to say. Have to wait and see.
He frowns, watching Jarod. It's breaking his heart, that there's nothing he can do - Jarod won't talk to him, won't come out for him, won't stop singing that damned song, and it's scaring Graham.
He whispers to him, "I'm going downstairs, Jarod, to talk to the barman."
And so, out he goes (http://www.livejournal.com/community/otherways/350824.html?thread=17138280#t17138280).
His outer calm really doesn't reflect his inner rage. It's.... Not Good.
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red_notebooks) wrote2005-11-28 01:45 pm
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no subject
He's an Avon Representative. What's he supposed to do?
"Jarod, love, please?"
no subject
no subject
"Please, come out from under the table. Just come to bed with me, and we'll go downstairs, go out to the lake tomorrow. It might even be snowing."
no subject
He's found something that will mark the wall and now he's drawing images of a little boy locked in a tiny room with nothing at all, not even his clothes.
And he sings again:
"Cree craw toad foot / Geese walk barefoot..."
no subject
"Love?"
He reaches out, and then climbs under with him.
"Jarod, please don't mark the walls."
no subject
and Geese walk bare foot / Kri kra toad's foot."
no subject
The little boy locked in the small room.
The little boy huddled and shaking in the corner of the room.
The little boy being dragged from the room, fighting as much as he can, which is hard because he hasn't had anything to eat for days.
The little boy being put in another room, this one with a big metal table and lots of machines that look like monsters to someone so young and afraid.
The little boy being hooked up to the machines by wires that look like snakes and tentacles to someone so young and afraid.
Then there is a piece of the series that looks like a big flash or an explosion, but inside the flash is a lightly traced word - PAIN.
The next image shows the little boy being carried to his room, because he's no longer conscious after the experiment or 'test'.
The next is the little boy awake, but curled in the corner, hands covering his head to keep the 'badness' out, but it won't go away, as indicated by the 'monsters' looming around the room.
Jarod is still singing as he continues to draw, to add to the series, continuing with what happens after the monsters in his room. The images don't get any happier.
At the moment, Jarod isn't really able to communicate verbally; he's regressed to a point where the song and the drawings are all he can do. The drawings probably tell more than anything else he could do; they're an explanation of why locking him in was a very bad idea. And while Stephen may have unlocked the door - by then, it was too late. The damage was done; it happened the moment Jarod was moved without his consent or permission. While to most people, this wouldn't have been a problem, to Jarod, it was a horrible violation of his freedom. He escaped the Centre to be free of people making him do things he didn't want to do. Sending him off without warning, while it may have been safe, gave him the sense of being back at the Centre, locked away for not doing what they wanted, the way they wanted. At that point, nothing was going to help. Not even Graham.
What will help now? It's hard to say. Have to wait and see.
no subject
He whispers to him, "I'm going downstairs, Jarod, to talk to the barman."
And so, out he goes (http://www.livejournal.com/community/otherways/350824.html?thread=17138280#t17138280).
His outer calm really doesn't reflect his inner rage. It's.... Not Good.