[ WP ] A mysterious event occurs where mentally deficient individuals suddenly become cognitive and sufficient but their caretakers become mentally impaired .

You did n't know why and you did n't question it. It would n't be... practical. Oh, you like that word. You do n't know how you knew about it, but it comes to you, like a flood of everything else, washing over your mind to make it clearer. 
 
 For once, you do not have to ask for help to the dining hall. You notice this first, in the morning. Your head no longer aches, your body feels lighter, and all at once everything is brighter and truer. 
 
 From your room, you step out into the hallway, glance around and listen, really listen. You're not sure if everything is quieter, clearer because of what has happened to you or because of what has happened to everyone else. 
 
 The halls are askew, things that should n't stiil be there in the morning, remain, untouched by the staff: food trays, rolling medicine cabinets, the night watchman's chair, the padlocks on some of the doors. Some of the windows have been smashed, glass freckles the floor in the morning light. 
 
 The others leave their rooms. Some familiar faces, but others with faces of totally unrecognizable lucidity. You walk among them, in your gown, in their gowns, weights now lifted from their mind, free for a spell. 
 
 A few aim for the doors, as briskly as possible, either concern or relief in their newly enlightened faces. They leave the hospital and you're sure you will never see them again. A few others stumble, getting used to the power they have over their mind and body. Still others maintain the routine, head on for what they know and approach the dining room. 
 
 Through the doors of the dining hall, the pastel green of the walls is infinitely brighter at first, but then it dulls in your eyes. The acid brown floor, tile and cold beneath your bare feet, drags you down a bit. Not everything is as beautiful now. 
 
 And by the kitchen doors, a couple in gowns are feasting, hurriedly stuffing their faces in room temperature food. You think about joining them, about what food might taste like now with a clear head, about the newfound bodily senses groaning to be experienced. 
 
 On the other side of the wall, a figure, crumpled over in the corner, catches your eye. A familiar bald, brown figure, in his morning-shift white orderly scrubs. As you approach, you try to remember his name, the man you know, the man who cared for you and for them, along with so many others. 
 
 You kneel down by him as he whimpers and shakes. Barely acknowledging you, you try to meet his eyes anyway. Fear flashes across his eyes, confusion. You see a very familiar sense of loss behind them. 
 
 He tries to make his words come out, but they squeak before withdrawing back into him. He shuts his mouth and tries to hide his face. 
 
 Shhh, you whisper to him, taking your arms to rest against his head retreating. It's alright. 
 
 Your first words spoken in over a decade. 
 
 It's alright, Jeff. 
 
 And you wonder how you remember his name. 
 
 He mumbles, syllables without language. He looks into you for a moment, his lip quivering. 
 
 The thought of shirking responsibility flashes across your mind, the thought of freedom, of a gift at long last. 
 
 You feel the shaking of Jeff's cold and tired and confused body beneath your arms. You pull him closer and the thought flees your mind. 
 
 Shh, do n't worry now. We're going to take care of you. 
 
 You smile and hug him gently as you both wonder how this happened, how it came to be like this. 
 
 Shh. There now. It's alright. 
 
 
 -- - 
 
 edit: I'd like to add that I mean absolutely no disrespect whatsoever to the mentally disabled or mentally handicapped community. I make no attempt to say that I know the first thing about how a person like that might actually feel at all. ( I'd prefer it to be a more subtextual thing than anything literal. Thanks! )
