The Troubles of Mr. Brownsman

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a short story about a very depressed man named Jerry Brownsman. And a day in his life when things got really crazy.

Submitted: November 09, 2015

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Submitted: November 09, 2015

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  A man sat at a table looking through window and drinking coffee. It was mid-July and he was smoking his third cigarette. He loved smoking. In fact, that was his only hobby. His name was Jerry Brownsman. A man you wouldn't have noticed if you were working at the same company. He is a man who thinks a lot but never comes up with bright ideas. You'll understand why in the end of this story.

  As I said, it was mid-July and Mr. Brownsman was at his apartment where he had lived for the past fifteen years. It was a nasty place. There were beer bottles and pizza boxes everywhere. You wouldn't even want to know anything about his socks. Mr. Brownsman didn't like his apartment. It was soaked with bad memories. It was dark, empty, unfriendly and it had a cold atmosphere as well. It was like there where written all his failures on the walls.

  Mr. Brownsman was planning to go for a walk. Walking was what he did for the past two years. Just gadding around aimlessly. He planned to go to a park. It was nice, silent and quite lonely place. And that's what he liked about it. So he finished his coffee, put on his shoes and then lit up a cigarette as he walked out of his apartment.

  It was a nice walk to the park and he sat down on his favorite bench there. He usually doesn't read any newspapers nor does he feed pigeons. He just sits there, again, over thinking his life. He likes the park more when it's dark. If it would be dark, he would probably be drinking beer, but, since there were people, he had to acquiesce their presence and castigate them.

  "Those lousy protein-eating machines! Doesn't even know what's important in life", he thought as he saw some bodybuilders.

  Mr. Brownsman didn't really have much friends. Not even a dog named Buddy. Most of the people he knew was his co-workers. But Mr. Brownsman didn't keep in touch with them. He didn't maintain close relationships with family either and it made him feel like a stranger.

  A girl holding balloons walked by and smiled at Mr. Brownsman. Mr. Brownsman's face turned ugly as he smiled her back unwillingly.

  Our hero liked to spend his time aimlessly, but, at the same time, he felt guilty not spending his time productive. Because there were so much to be done. And the work... Let's not even talk about work. He hated it with passion. He was always overworked and didn't get much sleep. The bills had to be paid and the secret dream of living in wild will never come true.

  He got bored of the park very quickly and decided to go for a walk. He had made his favorite routs by many months wandering around. It wasn't that he enjoyed some specific landscapes or places. He just moved for the sake of not being stuck on the same thoughts over and over again.

  As he walked through the city center he noticed that people were watching him. Spying on him. With unfriendly looks on their faces. He felt like he was in attention of many people. It didn't stop after two more blocks. He didn't know what was happening. First, he tried to fight against them by making the most vicious look he could and staring back at them. It seemed to just make others look amused. He sped up his walk, put his hood up and tried to hide from their looks by walking close to buildings and choosing less crowded streets. Every time he glanced at others they were looking straight at his face. He felt very uncomfortable and wanted to get to some place that is quiet. He was far from his home.

 As he walked, he started to notice laughs. Evil laughs. Feeling scared, he started to walk even faster trying to avoid looking anywhere but at the ground. He noticed strange black figures passing by very quickly. The laughs had become even louder and lasted for longer. Now, they rarely even stopped.

He stopped at headlights to cross the street and looked right ahead, across the street. What he saw scared him.

 There stood human-like creature with black skin color. With large, white, triangular shaped dots right where its eyes should be. It didn't have nose and its teeth were wedge-shaped. Its mouth was opened for a laugh that rang loudly all over the place.

 As he looked around, he saw that these creatures were everywhere. Walking down the sidewalks, driving cars... And they all had their heads turned straight at Mr. Brownsman.

 He was terrified. He started running running down the sidewalk never crossing the street. The creatures were everywhere. They walked in opposite direction. All staring at him. All laughing their evil laughs. He ran into alleyway hoping to hide there. He ran down the alleyway and, as it turned out, it was a big mistake. It was dead end. Terrified to go back he stopped to catch his breath and to find a solution to get out of this situation. It seemed like he calmed down a little bit and could gather his thoughts.

 Shivers went down his spine as he saw the black creature walking out of a turn. And more of them followed forming a crowd that was after him. They came closer and closer and Mr. Brownsman stepped back until he hit the wall. They all gathered a large crowd around Mr. Brownsman and slowly came closer. Without a hope he stood there petrified seeing their hands reaching for him. Then he passed out.

 

He woke in a bed in a white room. He looked around and saw that he is attached to some sort of system. Trying to figure out where he was, he explored the room with his eyes.

After a while, a tall man with thick mustache dressed in white came in. He was looking at some papers he was holding and didn't even pay attention to Mr. Brownsman.

"Where am I?"

"Sorry, what?"

"Where am I?"

"Oh, you're in a hospital."

"How did I get here? Who are you?"

"I'm doctor Adkins. You came here yourself, Mr. Brownsman."

Mr. Brownsman reflected on what had happened. His memories must have faded away.

"Why am I here?"

"You have a very serious mental illness, Mr Brownsman. And I am afraid that it can't be treated."

The doctor took a needle filled with toxic-like green substance.

"Then why am I still here?"

"He - he. You assigned for an experiment. A research for human kind, lets say."

Doctor Adkins pricked Mr. Brownsman's arm and said "Sweet dreams!" with a smile on his face as he injected the substance.


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The Troubles of Mr. Brownsman

Short Story / Horror