1 Joseph Newlin

The sun warmed his face as he lay there that morning. His body ached with pain, a familiar pain. He knew what had happened. 'Fuck.' He thought. Joseph opened his eyes and waited for them to clear. His clock read 7:24 am on August 17th. His suspicions were confirmed. The last date he could remember was February 25th. He tossed his blanket to the side and looked down. Bright blue pajama pants with a blindingly red sleeved shirt. Both were made from soft cotton and dotted with images of train cars. He recognized his sleepwear, but not as his own. He swung his legs over the side of his twin sized bed and let his bare feet touch the floor. It was cold, but a welcomed sensation. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he looked over his relatively well-kept room. He noticed his cream-colored walls were now riddled with crayon scribbles. 'Just one more thing to add to the list.' Joseph thought. He let his body adjust and reached for a glass of water on his nightstand. As he picked the glass up, he knocked a pair of pink framed glasses onto the floor. He bent to pick them up and set them back in their place. He didn't need them. In fact, he had never needed glasses in his entire life.

His back popped as he stood up from the comfort of his nest. He stretched and walked across the small bedroom, feet patting softly on the hardwood. On the south wall sat a wide dresser. The top was cluttered with an assortment of makeup, condoms, hair gel, and several wigs. Above those was a rounded mirror mounted on the wall with dark wood outlining its border. He rested his hands on the dark wood of the dresser and leaned towards his mirror. It was his face. He sighed in relief; nothing had seemed to change. His chocolate brown hair still fell in its usual curls onto his forehead and alongside his face. Dazzling green eyes darted over his sculpted, anguished face. They were searching for new markings. He stepped back and pulled the constricting shirt off his body. He was a very sculpted man from head to toe, although, not by his own choice. He tossed the shirt that was 2 sizes too small into his laundry basket along with the pants that barely passed his knees. He would have to make sure those were clean as soon as he could. He twisted his body in the mirror, checking for anything at all out of the ordinary. That was when he saw it. 'Shit. Shit, no, please. God no.' Joseph thought. There, on his ribs, was a new tattoo. A small one, but still horrifying. A scantily clad woman was sitting upon a motorcycle. He stared at it for a minute, accepted this new addition, and walked to the closet.

Upon reaching his closet, he moved left to the section of hangers labeled "JoJo". To his joy and relief, none of his clothes seemed to be damaged or missing. The clothes under his area all consisted of band shirts and graphic T's. He pulled a pair of jeans from one of the dresser drawers labeled "JoJo" and he got dressed for the day. He made his way to the bathroom, kicking a pink thong back into his room. He stepped over the black studded leather boots left outside his door and froze in his place. Before him lay an ocean of Legos spilled from wall to wall and filling the tiny hallway, effectively blocking the only path to the bathroom. 'Damned kid, I swear to God I will get him.' Joseph thought as he looked at the dangerous task ahead. He shuffled to the bathroom without stepping on a single devil brick. After his bladder was empty, he opened his medicine cabinet and began to search for his medication. He pulled his anti-depressant and anti-anxiety bottles from the 15 that filled the bottom shelf.

Joseph walked out into hi living room, it was small and very modern, yet it had a strange twist to it. Amongst his seemingly cohesive style were odd additions that Joseph had not put there. A black bikers jacket hung on his coat rack and next to that sat a pair of salmon pink thigh-high boots. Beside his front door and coat rack there was a fireplace with a large T.V. mounted on the cream-colored wall above. The top of the fireplace was adorned with a photo of Joseph's departed parents, a carton of hand rolled smokes filled with what Joseph could only hope was tobacco, a silver purse with a diamond necklace draped half-way inside, and a rigid teddy bear who had no-doubt seen its' fair share of trouble. Across from the fireplace, along the dark hardwood floors, and against the opposite wall, sat a modern tan sectional with a matching coffee and end table set. Atop these black geometric tables sat a mix of child's toys, knives, and jewelry. The living room then opened into what was a modern styled kitchen and dining room. All cluttered in the same strange mix of objects as before.

Joseph poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at his table, brushing the assortment of medical needles and spoons out of his way. He kicked toy cars away from his feet as he sat in his chair. He had left his phone there since his last memory. His was the blue one with a crack down the middle.

His thought was interrupted by the blaze of notifications that sounded off as soon as his phone came back to life. 'Joy.' He thought to himself sarcastically. 14 missed calls from his Doctor and one number he did not recognize. He deleted all the voicemails except the last one from his doctor and the one left by the strange number. He hesitated before playing the first voicemail. The date said June 26th, he knew something did not feel right. He pressed play regardless. The deep, rustic, yet recognizable voice belonging to his psychiatrist of 17 years began to speak through his phone.

"Hello Joseph. I hope you are well. It has been awhile since I've seen you last." The message started. 'Indeed, it has.' Thought Jojo.

"As I know you are unreachable right now, I thought I would call to tell you that I have retired due to some personal problems." He continued. '…Oh. Well now what.' Joseph's heart sank.

"My replacement will be handling your case from now on. His name is Dr. Fletcher J. Stein. I am so sorry to have to leave you, but you are in good hands. Thank you, for allowing me to study you. Goodbye." The message clicked off. Joseph didn't know what to think. He deleted the message and began playing the second one.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Stein." The voice was deep and sounded young. This one was dated July 5th. He has kept this man waiting for 42 days. This gave him a twinge of guilt.

"I am taking your case from Dr. Allen. Please, call me when you come back. I am eager to meet you. I look forward to working with you." The message ended there. Joseph sat for a minute, stewing over the news and sipping his coffee. Finally, he stood and got himself another cup of coffee. 'Well, I guess I'm someone else's lab rat now.' He thought as he pushed the return call button.