by Martin Bolton
Brian was no ordinary man.
He could see things other people could not see. From a very young age he had been aware of the signs that passed others by every day. He saw them in the street, at work, on the news, even in the media – sitcoms, soap operas, magazines, reality TV. You name it, they were there.
The subtle nuances existed in every aspect of society. Everywhere he went he saw them. At the bus stop, the corner shop, the pub, the polling station, even in the council office when he went to get his garden waste sacks. Clues everywhere. Plain for him to see but seemingly hidden to those around him.
He knew he was being watched. He would glimpse them from the corner of his eye, but when he turned they would be gone, leaving nothing but a tell tale odour behind. But only Brian seemed to notice. Perhaps it was easier for people to go on with their lives ignoring the clues. But nothing escaped him. Not Brian. Brian would not be fooled.
He knew what they were doing. How they dictated everything. How they pulled the strings that directed the course of events the world over. He knew humans were just brain-washed puppets. Just players on a stage reading verbatim from a script they couldn’t even see.
Brian knew they were responsible for every single world event from Take That (one of their most heinous crimes) to climate change. They controlled everything; the economy, the weather, politics, fashion, technology, the media, music, literature, history itself.
They were behind every catastrophic event the world over; Thatcher, Blair, Bush, the death of Princess Diana, the life of Cliff Richard, floods, earthquakes, volcanoes, Chernobyl, the Exxon Valdez oil spill, rising beer prices, fucking TV chefs, all of it. Every time something happened he could smell them all over it.
He had suggested his theories – no, not theories, absolute certainties – only once or twice, to people he had trusted. People he deemed alert or open minded enough to listen, to understand. But he had been roundly laughed at every time. Either they were so blind to the truth they could not consciously face it, or they simply found his assertions too ludicrous to pay any heed.
If only someone might listen to him, just give him a chance. Just listen to all the facts, let him present his findings. He had not given up hope of that happening. For now, he must remain vigilant. He must wait for his chance.
Brian knew he was on his own until he could somehow acquire concrete proof. But they were so damned clever, they left no trace of their existence, except in places where it was plausible to find them such as in the woods. They were always one step ahead.
But Brian knew. He knew all of it. He knew all their plans. He knew what they were up to. He was alive to their wily ways. And that’s why they watched him night and day. Not because they thought he was a threat that they had to keep an eye on. Quite the opposite. They saw him more as a play thing. The object of their amusement. The bastards. They liked the fact that he and he alone knew and could tell no one. They taunted him at all hours.
As soon as his back was turned they’d be in the house. Oh, he never saw them, but he saw the signs they left behind. Signs deliberately left for him so he would know they had been there. As soon as he went to work every day, they were in there, tinkering with his miscellanea. His precious miscellanea.
Not only were they controlling the lives of the entire human race, but they were doing it just to annoy Brian. To keep him teetering on the edge of sanity. He was their amusement, their entertainment, but he could not turn a blind eye because as soon as he did, they’d be on him. The moment he let his guard slip, BAM! That would be it; he’d go the same way Rod Hull did.
So Brian’s life was a permanent battle. But he would not give up. He would not let them win. He would bide his time. One day his chance would come. He had no idea when or how, but he would have his day. He just had to stay awake. To make sure he never slipped into a false sense of security. To make sure they never got to him, or his very mind would be forfeit.
He didn’t know when they had first taken over, or if they had always controlled the humans since the dawn of time. But Brian was in a position of strength. Knowledge was power and he knew it all. He knew they were there, always watching, always waiting. Waiting for him to make one false move. They may have been in control but Brian was a very patient man. All he had to do was keep his eyes open and make sure that when his opportunity came, he seized it with both hands. When that day came Brian would be ready.
In the meantime he would not forget who was behind it all. Who controlled his life and the lives of those around him in their sick puppet show.