Triadic Tales - Recovery - Short Story (Part One)

Triadic Tales - Recovery - Short Story (Part One)
I can see her. I can tell she is confused about me.  Everyone is I guess. I wouldn't care what she was. Religion kicks in and out. A chick is a chick. She's a good one.
I learned two things no one knows but me on the way here. How pissed off I was about my brother. And that martyrdom  is bullshit. If I ever have lots of chicks, it will be right here. It won't happen now. But if I did, it would not be in paradise. Paradise is just a big confusion now. 
I am getting stronger. They don't know how much stronger I am getting. The doctors do not communicate. They poke and dress and say does it hurt. I say nothing. It doesn't hurt as much as thinking about things.
I could end everything right here. I could. They do not know how strong I am. They have no idea how flexible. Shit. Flexible is right. 
I am smarter now than we were. We thought we were smart. Then not so much. It all tumbled to nothing.
But I won my freedom. Now I see things they will never see.
Maybe she'll come back. I have to be careful. I cannot show feeling. Desire. I cannot do anything. Not good.
Lying in the dark yesterday I thought I would die. But it was obvious I wanted to give myself whatever life I could get.
We never named what we did. We did not think about it much. Doing it was the whole thing. 
I knew when I gunned the car what I really believed. I believed I was doing justice. My justice. The justice he deserved. And I knew it would not help me.  But it was worth it.
There she is. I can see without looking. She is coming closer. What's this? She reaches and touches my face. Gentle. Soft. I pretend not to notice. It takes than a second.
This may be the only good thing I will remember.  I will recover. I will never be freer than I was last night.    
I wish I still believed in Paradise.
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