My Name Is Alex
My Name is Alex and I make people do bad things. I'm not a bad person, I keep my bedroom tidy and always eat my vegetables, but I make people do bad things. They don't realise the things they do are bad. I don't mean to make them do bad things, they want to do them and I don't want to stop them. Does that make me bad? Does wanting to let people do things that make them happy, that make them smile, make me bad?
The first time I remember doing it was when I was just a little boy, I had just been moved to another new orphanage and decided I wanted to play with the other children. There were four of them there. They were sitting on the floor in the back garden of the orphanage, no grown ups were around. I smiled when I saw them because people say that when you smile it makes people want to be friends with you. They didn't smile back. When they saw me they started to get up, they wanted to leave. This didn't deter me though. I kept smiling as I talked to them.
"My name is Alex and I want to play a game with you." The other children stopped, they looked at me and smiled. I smiled back, maybe they would play with me.
By the time a grown up came out it was too late. I was sat on the edge of the patio on my own. The other children had played without me. The grown up had come out to bring us drinks. When she saw the others, she dropped the tray and screamed. I knew then that what the other children had done was bad, but didn't know I'd made them.
When the police officers came I tried to tell them that it wasn't me and that they'd done it themselves, but they didn't believe me. Grown ups never do. Hey put me in the back of a police car. I'd always wanted to ride in a police car, but not like this. I didn't like this at all. I didn't talk as we drove to the police station. When we got there I still didn't talk. Other people did though. Grown ups talk a lot. Then there was a lot of waiting. I waited in lots of different places. I waited on seats and on beds, in rooms with bars and rooms with doors and rooms with mirrors, I sat and I lay down and I slept. Then the police officers came back. I was sitting at the time, in a room with no windows and only one door. The walls in that room were soft. I liked the soft walls. The men held my hands behind my back and then shut them in handcuffs. I don't like handcuffs. They can be hard to get out of.
I was taken to the police cars and had another ride in the back of one. Its not as fun the second time round. They took me to a big building and I had to sit next to a man in a suit with a lot of strange people looking at me. I didn't like it one bit. Then they started talking, there was a lot of talking. I didn't pay much attention to what they said. Then a man in a suit took me to a chair at the front of the room and now even more people were staring at me. Two men in suits asked me a lot of stupid questions, but the big man in the middle of the room made me answer all of them. I didn't like him. I looked up at the man. I pointed at him. "I don't like you. You are very bossy." I said. The people in the room all frowned at me then, but I didn't care. People frowned at me all the time.
The men in the suits asked me what happened to the other children and I told them, just like I'd told the police. I don't think they believed me either. When they were done asking me questions they took me back to my seat behind the desk. I still didn't like it, but it was much better than the other seat.
After the people had talked for hours and hours, I think they finally came to an agreement. I think that because some police officers came up to me and took me to another police car. It was even less exciting the third time. They took me to another big building and I got to go into another room with soft walls. It was nice there. Except for the woman who came to talk to me every week. She had brown hair neatly tied up in a bun and wore silly clothes. She asked me the same questions that everyone else always asked me. She was a very boring person so I just ignored her and didn't answer. One night, the day before I would go to see the boring lady, I wondered if I could make our session more fun, maybe I could even get her to play with me.
The next day she started off by asking me exactly the same question she always does. "So, can you tell me your name?"
This time though I answered. "Yes." The woman looked shocked. "My name is Alex and I want to play a game with you."
The woman smiled for the first time since I'd met her. Maybe she wasn't as bad as I'd first thought. Then she stood up and started to play. She was playing the same game the kids at the orphanage had. Everyone kept telling me I'd done it. I hadn't, but what, I thought to myself, if I'd made them do it themselves. I looked at the woman again as she pressed her fingers on the wall. I was making her do it too, I noticed. I felt like I should stop her. If what the other children had done was bad then it was probably bad her doing it too, although grown ups don't always follow the same rules kids do. As she fell to the ground I stood up. I decided it was probably best to leave. I didn't want to get blamed again. Even if I was the one who mad her do it. I climbed up on the sofa and tried to open the window. It was stuck. I took a plant pot and carefully removed the plant. I put it in another plant pot so that it would be alright. Then I through the plant pot through the window. It broke the glass and made a hold big enough for me to climb through. I got scratched on the way out though, that hurt. "Ow." I said. As I climbed out onto the window ledge the door opened. Two men in white coats came in. I jumped off the ledge and ran. After that I did a lot of running. I didn't want to get caught. I f I did I knew the grown ups would be mad. That was the first time I ran. I always have to run now though because if grown ups catch me I know that They'll be really mad.