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Warped and Twisted By Skittles

Harsh words & violent blows Hidden secrets nobody knows Eyes are open, hands are fisted Deep inside I'm warped & twisted So many tricks & so many lies Too many whens & too many whys Nobody's special, nobody's gifted I'm just me, warped & twisted Sleeping awake & choking on a dream Listening loudly to a silent scream Call my mind, the number's unlisted Lost in someone so warped & twisted On my knees, alive but dead Look at the invisible blood I've bled I'm not gone, my mind has drifted Don't expect much, I'm warped & twisted Burnt out, wasted, empty, & hollow Today's just yesterday's tomorrow The sun died out, the ashes sifted I'm still here, warped & twisted

Ever since I can remember I've never fit in. I was born Citizen 743-92-86 in the year 0027 NWO. When I was born, that number was tattooed on the inner parts of both of my forearms. That was my designation, I didn't have a name, names were only for overseers and the Illuminati. Like all of The Collective Bred Humans or CBHs I was taken from my mother at birth and given to The Collective orphanage when I was only a few hours old. At the orphanage babies are kept in separate baskets and tube fed their meals. This way feeding can be done in a matter of seconds and there is no need for burping a baby since no gas is introduced. This allows for minimal physical contact with the babies, physical contact and showing affection is frowned on in The Collective. Well at least it is for us CBHs, the overseers and the Illuminati are under no such restrictions. For the first 10 months CBHs have almost no human interaction. I later figured out that The Collective did this so the CBHs would not bond to other CBHs and would therefore give all of their allegiance to The Collective.

At 10 months of age the babies spend the day in rooms of 6 children supervised by an Adult CBH who looks in on them through a window to make sure they do not touch each other. There are blocks and toys to play with, but they are spanked if they play with the other children. Every couple of days the children are put in with different children and different caretakers so they never make any kind of attachment to anyone. Of course I don't remember any of that, I really don't remember much before I turned 4 years old. At that age our education started. The Collective school started trying to teach the children to count and the alphabet. I thought it was really easy and I didn't know why all the other children were having such a hard time. When I started to learn faster than the other children one of the Overseers (these people were not CBHs but not quite Illuminati either) put me over his knee and beat my ass with a paddle. While I was crying he told me that the school didn't tolerate showoffs, all CBHs were equal. We all learned at the same pace and everybody cooperated. That was when I started to learn to hide that I was different from the other children. I know by 4 years old I lived in the big open hall with 250 other 4 year old boys. Every couple of days they made us randomly change beds with others so we did not get too familiar with any of the children. It didn't really seem to bother the other children much, but I instinctively wanted to make contact with the other children. Not just physical contact but intellectual and emotional contact with them. It was very frustrating since none of the other children wanted to be my (or for that matter anyone else's) friend. When I persisted the overseers put a shock collar on my neck and whenever I got too close to one of the other children they would shock me with it. There were different levels of intensity in the collar. When I went too close to the other children they just hit me with a low intensity jolt of electric. It was enough to make me jump and gasp, and soon I was avoiding the other children without even thinking about it.

It was worse though when one of the Overseers was in a bad mood or a group of them wanted some entertainment. Then they would put the intensity ALL the way up and I would fall to the floor twitching. They would come over and laugh at me while I gasped for breath, my muscles all cramped from the electricity that had passed through them. Sometimes one would kick me in the ribs and tell me to "Get up, you fucking little cretin" or some other equally clever command. How I hated them. But I was smart enough to not let it show even at that young age. I just kept a non-emotional expression on my face. Hey you do what you have to do to survive.

I also learned not to show emotions like joy and excitement. If you showed excitement or enthusiasm over a toy or situation they would take the toy away or remove you from the situation. I had a real problem at that young age controlling my emotions unlike the other CBH children. It seemed like they had none to try to control.

At the age of 5 we started having an hour of exercise a day, broke up into morning and evening sessions of a half hour each. We did things like calisthenics and running in formation. We did all the exercises in unison as a group and when one of the children wasn't able to do any more we stopped. That way we were still all equal. After a while I started to wonder how fast I was compared to the other children, so I after dinner one day when we were out in the school yard I started asking them to race me. Well I didn't say race, because I had never heard of that word before, there wasn't a word for race in the APPROVED Collective vocabulary. There were no words to describe competition and words of comparison were allowed to be used if you were comparing anything other than humans. You were not allowed to say that someone was bigger, smaller, fatter, hairier etc. That would undermine the prime underpinning of The Collective society, the indisputable fact that ALL citizens are exactly the same. But I was young and naive. I knew I could run A LOT faster than when we ran together and I wanted to see if I was faster than the other kids.

The other kids wanted nothing to do with racing, and I didn't notice that one of the overseers went to one of the children and questioned them about what I was asking. He immediately came over to me when I was talking to one of the other kids and roughly grabbed me by the arm and yanked me into the air dislocating my shoulder. "You're in trouble now you little bastard!" He said laughing with derision, clearly pleased that he had caught me in a wrong doing. He was one of the more sadistic of the Overseers, one of the ones that really seemed to enjoy shocking me for no reason and kicking me. The only one more sadistic was the school Principal. Which is where I was sure I was going.

I thought that maybe it was because I was interacting with the other children, as he carried me by the arm. It hurt like hell but I knew better than letting him know just how much it was hurting me. He carried me all the way to the Principal's office then threw me on the floor in front of the Principal's desk.

"So what do we have here?" The Principal asked, the glee evident in his voice. I'm sure he was going to relish the opportunity to inflict pain, the fact that it was a trouble maker like me would just make it even sweeter.

"I caught this miscreant trying to get the other children to race with him. Unfortunately none of the other brats took him up on the offer or we could have doubled our fun." The overseer added with obvious excitement.

The Principal pulled out a drawer on his desk and pulled out a manila folder, setting it on his desk. Most of the other children's files were in a big file cabinet, it looked like mine was one of the few he kept in his desk. "It's bad when I know your number by heart." He said with a chuckle. He looked over the contents of the folder and chuckled again, "You've got quite a record here boy. I've never seen a list this long for someone this young." He looked over it again, the evil grin on his face growing as he went through the pages. "You're a little young for the "cat" and even a little too young for a good caning, but given your track record I think we can make an exception." His grin was now ear to ear as he added, "I think 5 strokes of the cane will be appropriate. I really hate to do this but it's for your own good." With this the two of them broke out in maniacal laughter. "It's been a while since we've been treated to a caning... I think it would be good to do it in front of the whole school." He turned and looked at the Overseer and said, "Take the caning trestle out to the stage." When the overseer left the Principal got on the intercom and announced to the school, "I want all the students to assemble in the auditorium for a 'special program'", and then smiled evilly at me.

He ushered me out to the auditorium and marched me up on the stage. My dislocated shoulder hurt like hell but I knew not to cry about it or they would make sure to tug on it a little more. On the stage was a strange contraption. It was sorta A shaped if you looked at it from the front and H shaped if you looked at it from the side (http://www.corpun.com/singfeat.htm). I had no idea what it was for. Soon all of the children had filed into the auditorium and were seated and the Principal announced, "Boys and Girls, today you are going to see what happens to children that take our rules lightly. Especially the prime rule of The Collective, we cooperate, we DO NOT compete. This boy was caught trying to compete; we are here this afternoon to show you what competition will do to you." Then he turned to me and said. "Take your shirt off." I was embarrassed to go without a shirt but I wasn't about to defy the Principal in front of the entire school. I took my shirt off and dropped it on the floor. "Drop your pants boy!" I looked at him with a shocked expression. He glared at me and said, "DROP YOUR PANTS. NOW!!!!!!!" I unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned my pants. I let them fall to the floor and I stepped out of them. My whole body turned red in embarrassment standing there in front of the whole school in my underwear. "YOUR FUCKING UNDERWEAR TOO YOU LITTLE BASTARD!!!" He screamed at me. I pulled my underwear down and tossed them by my pants, and then I held my hands in front of my privates. "Put your hands at your side you fucking little cretin, nobody is going to be able to see that LITTLE thing way out there anyway.

I stood in front of the whole school with my hands at my sides. It seemed like I stood there naked forever, but it was probably only for about 15 seconds. Then the Principal led me over to the caning trestle and bent me over the middle bar. The Overseer tied my ankles to the legs of the contraption and then tied my wrists to the frame, immobilizing me in a bent over position. I was only 5 years old so I really didn't understand what would happen next, but the evil grin on the Principal's face told me it wouldn't be good. My eyes followed the Principal as he walked over to a table and picked up a long bamboo stick. Then he went behind me, wound his body up and uncoiled swinging the cane with all his might.

The first stroke came... the pain was unbelievable and there were still four to go. There was pain in my whole body. I thought nothing could be worse than that until the second stroke hit me. Then I really thought I was going to die. By the time the third came, my whole body was just a lump of pain. The last strokes didn't make any difference, I think I'd already gone into shock at that point. Blood had already started to drip from my tiny little body as the Overseer untied me and as I tried to straighten myself, my legs were so wobbly that they almost buckled. It was over. The male nurse swabbed a dark violet blue lotion over my raw backside and I was ushered out of the room." They led me back to my bunk and laid me down on it on my stomach. I must have started coming out of my shock, because now the pain was becoming unbearable, my buttocks felt like they were burning. My ass swelled to twice it's normal size by the time they turned out the lights. I couldn't sleep because of the pain, I couldn't even put my underwear back on because the sores were still oozing blood and they would have gotten incorporated into the scabs.

I'm not sure if I slept at all, I think I was just in a state of delirium all night. In the morning when I had to go number two, I found that was the worst part. I was unable to sit or even squat because it would tear open the wounds again. I had to go outside (still naked from the waist down) and shit standing up holding my ass cheeks wide apart, holding them in places where the cane had not broken the skin.

It took a week before the pain lessened enough for me to sleep and two more weeks before I could sit, although I still had pain for 3 more weeks when I tried to sit. After the first day they gave me an apron to wear that covered my privates but left my butt exposed. It was still embarrassing but not as bad as having my privates showing. It wasn't so bad that the boys had seen them, they saw them every day at shower time, but it was terribly embarrassing that the girls were able to see me naked. Knowing that the girls had all seen me naked made me dislike girls from that point on. I know it doesn't make sense but I hated them for seeing me naked.

Why did I have such a hard time following the rules when the other children seemed to do it instinctively? They seemed to not care that they were forced to be the same as all the others, while I instinctively wanted to be different. I couldn't understand why I was so different from the rest of the children. I desperately wanted someone to be my friend, although I didn't know that friend was the word for it. The word friend in The Collective did not refer to humans. According to The Collective, The Collective was your only friend. It was what you went to if you needed anything, although to be truthful if you asked for something you never got it. I wanted someone to hold me, even though I had never seen anyone hold or hug each other in The Collective. It just seemed that it would feel so good to feel another person's body next to yours, a person that cared about you. I wasn't old enough to think about sex at that time, I just wanted a companion that cared about me, and that made me so different from the rest of the children.

It was around that time that that I invented my "Imaginary Friend" Citizen 682-93-47. His number was just mine backwards. I never thought to give him a name since names were a foreign concept to us CBHs. I would have conversations with him in my mind while we were supposed to be doing school work. What took the others a week to learn I was able to learn in a matter of hours, but I had already learned not to let on that I learned faster than the other children, so I had to occupy my mind while they went over and over and over the same simple stuff until it was beaten into their minds. But while they were doing that Citizen 682-93-47 and I were planning on how we would poison the Principal or the Overseers, or any number of things that my imagination could come up with. At night I imagined that Citizen 682-93-47 slept in my bunk with me and held me all night long. At times he seemed so real, sometimes more real than my two dimensional classmates. I'm sure some people might think that this imaginary friend was a sign of insanity, but I personally think that he was the only thing that kept me sane. In my world I couldn't trust anybody, but I knew I could trust Citizen 682-93-47 and I needed to trust someone. He was the only companion I had, sometimes I could even feel him holding me.

In my mind we would do all sorts of things together, all the forbidden types of things. We would race each other, learn things together and do just about anything I could imagine together. Which wasn't very much because I had no idea of all the things you could do in the big wide world. My world existed within the confines of the Collective School and within the soul crushing rules The Collective imposed on us CBHs. I didn't know about things like sports, fishing, hunting, or even games like cards or board games or even better video games, until we were liberated from The Collective by our Shep Masters. But I'm getting ahead of myself there.

With the help of Citizen 682-93-47 I was able to stay out of trouble for the most part. But one day while I was seven he helped me get into trouble. They had finally taught (after 2 years of daily pounding it into their heads) all of the CBHs in my class to count to 100 and recite the alphabet. I had learned it in a matter of hours when I was 5 but when we were tested I made sure that my test scores were in the middle of the pack. But still I was curious about what we were going to learn next. So after talking to Citizen 682-93-47 we decided that it wouldn't hurt to "read" ahead in the text book. So I skipped to the next chapter and started to see what was in it. This was harder than you might imagine, since we had not been taught to read yet. But it was just a chapter on basic addition and even though we couldn't read the words we were able to make out the patterns in the numbers. Like the first thing that was written had 1 + 1 = 2 under it. Then there was more writing and under it was 1 + 2 = 3. Somehow we understood what they were trying to do. Soon Citizen 682-93-47 and I were taking turns covering up the answers and asking the other to figure out what they were. We got so caught up in doing this that we didn't notice that one of the Overseers had sneaked up behind us and caught us at our little excursion into independent learning.

The next thing I knew he slapped me upside my noggin as hard as he could, knocking me out of my desk. All he said was, "You're in a heap of trouble Boy!" as he kicked me hard in the ribs while I was down on the ground. I quickly got up so he couldn't kick me some more. I was a little too heavy for him to carry by the arm this time so he just marched me to the Principal's office. He knocked on the door and we waited.

On the other side of the door I could hear some grunting and heavy breathing. Then I could hear the Principal's voice. "That's it you worthless little Cunt. Take it all! You don't even realize how lucky you are to be taking it from a stud like me!" I could hear a rhythmic slapping noise of skin on skin, and then the Principal's voice, "Aarrghhhh!!! Take my whole load you fucking little moron!" There was some more grunting and then silence for a minute or so.

The Overseer had a shit eating grin on his face then said to himself more than to me. "So he banged another one, I guess that's one of the perks of the job." I had no idea what he was talking about.

From behind the door we heard, "Get your pants back on and on your way out tell whoever is waiting at the door to come on in."

In a moment the door opened and an expressionless CBH girl of about 12 years old appeared and said, "The Principal said you were to come in and see him." Then she walked out as we walked in. I turned to look at her as she walked out because there seemed to be something wrong with her by the way she walked.

"There's no reason for you to look at her boy, you're not going to ever get any of that." The Overseer said, but I still had no idea what he was talking about. He guided me to the familiar spot in front of the Principal's desk.

The Principal was breathing hard and had a shit eating grin on his face. He told the Overseer, "The best thing about these new ones is you don't even have to wear a condom!" And they both got a good laugh out of it.

When they stopped laughing the Overseer said, "Well Sir, it seems we have a little problem here." As he slapped me upside the head again.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite CBH, let's see, it's Citizen 743-92-86. You know I think your number is the only one I know off the top of my head. That's never a good sign..." The Principal said as he readjusted his privates. "So, what is the little miscreant here for today?"

"He screwed up big time today. He was sitting in class today and I noticed that he was flipping pages. It looks like he was trying to work ahead in the book. He is definitely not a team player!" The Overseer said with boundless mirth in his voice.

"That IS a big one." the Principal said as he pulled my file out of a tray in his desk. He took some time to leaf through it, then he passed judgment on me. "I guess he didn't learn from the caning, I guess we need to be a little more severe." My first thought was "Oh Shit, how can something be more severe than caning." And then he told us. "Even though he is way too young for the 'Cat' it seems like that is the only thing we have more severe than caning." I could see that he was enjoying this way too much. I had no idea what the "Cat" was but I was sure that it was going to be terrible. "He's young but five lashes probably won't kill him, and if it does who gives a fuck. He'll be going to the reeducation camp when he's 16, and there is no way he'll survive that." He talked about my fate like I wasn't even there, we CBHs were so far below them that we weren't even treated as good as animals.

"Yeah, this one is definitely expendable. We may as well amuse ourselves with him, that way he is at least useful." The Overseer said, the anticipation building in his voice, which was sending chills down my spine, this was not going to be good. "Can I do the flogging this time?" He begged the Principal.

"Sure, why not. I had the pleasure of caning him, and I'm sure this won't be the last time we get to flog the little bastard." The Principal responded, rubbing his crotch, "I may enjoy watching even more."

Like last time the Principal called everybody into the auditorium and marched me onto the stage. The Overseer ripped my shirt off when we got onto the stage. There was a square frame on the middle of the stage and they tied a rope to each of my wrist and tied each on to a corner of the frame and tied my ankles to the bottom corners of the frame. It was then that the Overseer picked up something from a table and brought it where I could see it. It was a leather whip about 3 feet long and that separated out into nine nasty looking cords each with a bunch of smaller evil looking leather fingers. I just about passed out in fear just looking at the damn thing. He put his finger under my chin and held my face up to look into his eyes, which were even more chilling the the "cat". "I am gonna enjoy this! That caning you got before will be like child's play in comparison." He said. Then he removed his hand from my chin and walked behind me.

I could sense rather than see him position himself behind me. I could hear the "cat" whistling through the air before I felt it claw my back. When it did if felt like my back exploded into pain! With my small body size the "tails" covered my whole back and wrapped onto my sides, and when he pulled it back I could feel it ripping even further into my tender young flesh. Instantly I could feel the blood starting to run down my back. All I could think of was how did I get myself into a situation like this. But that thought was driven out of my mind when I felt the second stroke crack onto my already lacerated back. Where it hit the cuts the last stroke had given me the pain was beyond excruciating. The next three lashes were more of the same but the pain intensified with each stroke.

After the last stroke I expected to be cut down, but I heard the Principal get on the microphone and tell all the students that they had to file past me before they left so they could see just what happened to those that tried to be different. They were called up row by row and they slowly filed past me while my back continued to bleed. My legs could no longer hold me up, but I didn't fall because of the wrist ropes that held me up.

It seemed like forever before the last of the students filed past and then the Overseer cut me down. He didn't bother to hold me up and when he cut the second rope I fell face first to the ground, bloodying my nose. A male nurse came with a gurney, picked me up and laid me on it face down. He hauled me down to the nurses station, cleaned up my wounds and applied more of the dark violet blue lotion to them. My recovery was similar to when I was caned except I could at least wear my pants, but for a fortnight I couldn't wear a shirt.

The worst part of it was that all the other students avoided me like the plague. It wasn't just that they didn't want the guilt by association, but they had been brainwashed that "The Collective" looked out for them and that anyone that was an enemy of The Collective was someone that jeopardized everybody's well being. The only one that didn't completely shun me was Citizen 682-93-47. I know that sounds lame, but I needed someone to be there for me and he was always there, even if only in my mind. It was hard to go on when you knew you were only going to live until you were sixteen, although sometimes that seemed like too long to wait to be free of this veil of tears that was life in The Collective.