«A Clockwork Orange»

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" And
so I knew that was like telling me to finish it all off by jumping out. One
moment of pain, perhaps, and then sleep for ever and ever and ever.
The music was still pouring in all brass and drums and the violins
miles up through the wall. The window in the room where I had laid down was
open. I ittied to it and viddied a fair drop to the autos and buses and
waiting chellovecks below. I creeched out to the world: "Good-bye, good-bye,
may Bog forgive you for a ruined life." Then I got on to the sill, the music
blasting away to my left, and I shut my glazzies and felt the cold wind on
my litso, then I jumped.


6



I jumped, O my brothers, and I fell on the sidewalk hard, but I did not
snuff it, oh no. If I had snuffed it I would not be here to write what I
written have. It seems that the jump was not from a big enough heighth to
kill. But I cracked my back and my wrists and nogas and felt very bolshy
pain before I passed out, brothers, with astonished and surprised litsos of
chellovecks in the streets looking at me from above. And just before I
passed out I viddied clear that not one chelloveck in the whole horrid world
was for me and that that music through the wall had all been like arranged
by those who were supposed to be my like new droogs and that it was some
veshch like this that they wanted for their horrible selfish and boastful
politics. All that was in like a million millionth part of one minoota
before I threw over the world and the sky and the litsos of the staring
chellovecks that were above me.
Where I was when I came back to jeezny after a long black black gap of
it might have been a million years was a hospital, all white and with this
von of hospitals you get, all like sour and smug and clean. These antiseptic
veshches you get in hospitals should have a real horrorshow von of like
frying onions or of flowers. I came very slow back to knowing who I was and
I was all bound up in white and I could not feel anything in my plott, pain
nor sensation nor any veshch at all. All round my gulliver was a bandage and
there were bits of stuff like stuck to my litso, and my rookers were all in
bandages and like bits of stick were like fixed to my fingers like on it
might be flowers to make them grow straight, and my poor old nogas were all
straightened out too, and it was all bandages and wire cages and into my
right rooker, near the pletcho, was red red krovvy dripping from a jar
upside down. But I could not feel anything, O my brothers. There was a nurse
sitting by my bed and she was reading some book that was all very dim print
and you could viddy it was a story because of a lot of inverted commas, and
she was like breathing hard uh uh uh over it, so it must have been a story
about the old in-out in-out.