Tuesday, March 13,
Today was Taco Tuesday. The day of the week where everyone stays in line and keeps their mouth shut just to get a crunchy shell. The day when everyone is nice and happy because they get to eat pure heaven stuffed inside a corn tortilla. Nobody fights and nothing bad happens. Or so it has been until today.
Today was different. Something new happened that shook the building to its core. Taco Tuesday was…cancelled.
We went to lunch like normal. Standing in our pretty little lines like soldiers, waiting to sink our teeth into a gorgeous taco. Then, the screams started. Wailings from the front of the line as they walked through the doors with trays loaded with food, but no tacos. The rest of us brushed it off as a fluke.
“They didn’t have the tacos ready yet and those people are just being dramatic.” I heard a guy laugh with an uneasy smile. The rest of us laughed along with a little fear in our eyes.
As the line gets shorter and shorter, the fear grows and grows. More and more cries sound from those in front of me, as more and more trays of fries and burgers and salads leave the line but no tacos . We slowly realized there are no tacos today.
We expected it to just be a fluke and we just got our food and sat. A soft brring sounded through the grey boxes in the corners of the room and we heard the noise.
Taco Tuesday had been cancelled.
For a while there was just a shocked silence as everyone realized how little the “overlords,” as they were dubbed, understood us. The shock eventually gave out to anger and pain as the one thing that kept people going was wrenched from them.
I heard later that fights broke out between the overlords and people in other rooms. I’m not surprised. This is the second time they have tested us here by giving us something to love then taking it.
I think they call it “therapy,” but I call it torture for those already mentally tortured everyday.
Goodnight from the Rockwood Mental Asylum, Mom. I hope I get to come home soon.
Love,
Sebastian