The boss opened the boot and Mitch squinted so his eyes could adjust to the sudden light change.
"So this is the place. Not much but too bad. The landlady is a lovely woman so be nice to her otherwise you'll deal with me" Why was he acting as though he didn't just technically commit a kidnap?
Mitch got out of the boot to look at where he was. He's familiar with this street. All of these houses become shops in the future, which he'll admit is a bit sad. These were peoples homes, they were peoples businesses. Its survival of the fittest he supposes. They failed to modernise so the government forced them to modernise. The building was around 3 stories high and showed a lot of wear but was, in it's own way, quite pretty. At least it was no dirty and ugly tower block. Mitch would've thought that sort of thing would appeal to the boss considering his work environment.
The boss roughly slapped Mitch on the back "Come on" he said as he welcomed himself into the building. Mitch followed but took the chance to glance around and take in his surroundings. This place was sort of creepy if he's honest. Old, broken and faded wood everywhere accompanied by gross wallpaper and weird family photos. He felt as though he'd gone from 2021 to 1983 to 1944. The carpet was disgusting too. Torn in corners and matted together.
He followed the boss up to, what he assumed would be, his room. The boss opened the door and Mitch saw, basically the same thing he'd seen coming into the doorway of the building but it was all neat and nothing looked too bad. The bed was made and there was a wardrobe and cupboards and counters. A nice little living space.
The boss's eyes never left Mitch. "Like it?"
"Well.."
"You've got no choice. You can either like it, sleep in an alley or fuck off back to where you transferred from"
"Isn't great how I literally said one word and you're hounding me?"
"Get used to it. I'll see you tomorrow" and with that he was gone.
Mitch hated him so much already. It's not enough that he borderline damaged his internal organs for no reason, he has to be a complete dick. Mitch doesn't even remember his name. All he heard was that he could call him boss, sir or God. Or something stupid like that. Mitch subconsciously rubbed his stomach where the boss has punched him and he felt possibly the worse bruise he'd ever felt. He then made his way over to a mirror and lifted his shirt to actually see the worse bruise he'd ever seen in his life. It was literally purple with red blotches scattered around and inside it with hints of yellow. He groaned and undressed himself and wet a cloth he found lying around so he could place that on his bruise.
However, before he did so he noticed an old TV just sitting in the corner. He made his way over and flicked it on. There was some genetic ass 80s action cop show on, which only annoyed him but he didn't want to be left with silence. He lay down and carefully treated his bruise while watching his little cringe fest. Who said the early 80s wouldn't be fun to live through?
He couldn't even follow whatever the fuck he was watching. Theres two men, Obviously, everything in the 80s is two men. They're cops. They're pervy. They're pretty slow and they're very insensitive about a lot of things. So it's historically accurate. Theres one with a moustache and theres one with a perm. Original. They both couldve done a little better with a different stylist as well as a different writer. It's just all guns and explosions and women. Maybe Michael Bay watched this show. Pft.
This show is horrible. It felt like a porno with too big a budget and no actual porn. Mitch groaned and got up to turn the TV off
"Dont do it Mitch" he paused. His hand hovering over the switch. Did the perm just say his name? "Mitch? Mitchell?" He kneeled directly in front of the screen.
"Yes? Yes I hear you"
"Mitch, we've managed to stabilise you however you are in a coma. That bullet nearly killed you. We're going to conduct a few tests to see if you will be fit to wake up"
"I'm fit to wake up." Mitch growled through his teeth "I'm fit to fucking wake up. Wake me up" The moustache entered the screen
"We have a scan that shows quite a bit of brain activity" the perm looked at moustache
"That's good. We just need to determine if the brain is healthy enough. The brain is a very sensitive organ" Mitch became very annoyed
"YESYES I KNOW THIS! JUST! FUCKING! GET! ME! OUT!" with each beat he whacked the side of the TV.
"So what have we got?" The perm returned to his bad boy cop voice and conversed with the moustache.
"NonoNONONO"
"Sir?" A small voice came from behind him causing him to violently flinch and turn to see the police woman. Trish? Yeah Trish. She chuckled. "Sorry didnt mean to scare you. I didnt think you'd be that much into the show"
"No. No, I'm not" He rubbed his eyes
"..are you ok?"
"I'm fine. What about you?"
"Oh nono I'm fine I was just checking on you to see how you're getting on"
"Well you know.." He shrugged "Doing what I can" She smiled and nodded
"Sir?"
"Hmm?"
"Why are you holding a dirty wet cloth?"
"Oh this. It's for the.." he gestured to his bruise "from earlier"
"You can't just wet a bruise silly. Come on. On the bed" he paused in confusion and stared at Trish. She looked back and began to chuckle. "Come on. I dont bite." He stood up and sat on the bed as Trish rummaged through her bag and took out some sort of medicinal cream. "If you want to hold your shirt up and I'll apply it?" Mitch lifted his shirt and she applied the cream to her hand. "Ooohh. That's a pretty bad one" she began to treat Mitchs bruise.
"Do you know a lot about medicine?"
"Not a lot. I'm trained in first aid and my dads a doctor so he sort of passed me down some wisdom" he nodded. "You're quite weird you know?"
"Me?" She chuckled
"Yeah you"
"What have I done?"
"Well I dont know what your on first of all but you have the guts to wonder into a police station in that state. All I really know is your name, I don't know where your from or anything."
"I'm not on anything"
"Are you sure you're not on that new drug? Cocaine?"
"Surly Cocaine isn't new. Seriously is Cocaine new here? Do you mean Crack Cocaine?" She just stared at him
"Mm-hmm"
"Ok I'll admit those last few sentences didn't seem convincing but I promise you I'm not doing Crack Cocaine"
"Right yeah" she sarcased "Well what's up with you then?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you"
"Try me" he paused to look at her to see if she was serious. She was. She wasnt laughing or smiling and she was looking directly at him. Should he try and explain to her? Can he even try and explain to her?
"Well?" Trish said out of impatience.
"Well..about what I was saying earlier today.."
"Oh about my insane child?" Trish sarcased
"Close enough. He's not insane, he might be schizophrenic. I'm from the future. Im from the year 2021 and this is all a fantasy. I was shot and this is my coma, maybe it's my hell who knows? But this isn't real this is my brain playing tricks on me. You, the boss and surfer shirt man-"
"Tony" she interrupted
"Whatever you all figments"
"Figments?"
"I am in a hospital right now Trish. You probably represent someone or something that happened in my life and my brain has just manifested you" Trish just looked at Mitch and blinked her eyes. Her eyebrows were raised and slightly furrowed, her face was just the picture of 'riiggghhhttt ookkk'.
"Wow" she sarcased once again. "Well, I've done all I needed to do. Your bruise should heal in no time and hopefully the next time I see you you won't be on drugs" she smiled and stood up to gather her things
"I'm not on drugs"
"Only a druggie denies he's a druggie"
"Well so can non druggies if they ain't druggies. Trish are you a druggie?"
"No" Mitch pulled a face at her, mimicking her own face she pulled at him moments before. "Well I'm not calling you figment and babbling future nonsense"
"You are though"
"Sure"
"You are"
"Mmhmm. Enjoy your come down" Mitch chuckled as she made her way out his apartment.
She was right. His bruise felt so much better. He thought about those people. Well 'people'. He now knows Trish, The boss and Tony he can't for the life of him remember the others. What does he care anyway? They're just hallucinations.