Sacred Silence of Sleep
Information Henry Townshend found himself locked within his apartment with his new friend, Valeria. Will they make it out together, separately or will they both be dammed to hell?
Chapter One
Gentle Wounds
Valeria's breath had caught up in her throat as she lifted her feet from the ground to the steps above her; slowly making her way up the last staircase. Her usually pale face was redder then it had been; damp with her salty tears that hadn't stopped falling from her bloodshot eyes for more then half an hour. Never did she allow herself to cry in public yet this shock, this new reason to cry, had pounded into her heart like a fist; breaking her into pieces. Her dark brown gems had taken a life of their own, draining every last bit of water from her like they were trying to make her dehydrated. The mascara she wore had luckily stayed on her black eyelashes, only transferring to her sleeve when she put it to her eyes in a vain attempt to stop the tears. Near the top of the stairs, her mind finally gave into her body that felt as if it had turned to stone and collapsed onto the fourth step from the top. Her large black back dotted with white spots banged into the railing loudly; the bag filled with clothes, makeup and a hair dryer; all the things she had used while away for the weekend. The woman, wearing just a pair of black shorts along with a white and blue stripped, long sleeved shirt, put her feet clad in tan, knee high boots, on the step just below the one she sat upon. She put her elbows onto her knees and stared down at her pale flesh, yet stared at nothing at all. Finally, she was breathing properly yet loudly; her heart feeling as if it were tucked into her stomach, making her want to vomit it up. Her body began to tremble as she avoided a reminiscence of what had just occurred before leaving where she stayed for the weekend. Her left hand, which had nails tipped in different colours, ran through her shoulder length black hair, pulling at the soft curls. She tucked them behind her ear, moving her hand to hold onto the fabric of her shoulder. Just a few steps away from her room of 303; just a few yet she couldn't make it. She needed to sit and to try to pull herself together. Her body had felt like jelly as she walked back to the apartment building and her mind was an utter blur. She couldn't even remember the walk that entirely well. Valeria shivered hard as a chill overcame her. More tears streamed down her face as she sat there in silence, wishing she could scream at the man that had reduced her to such a thing. Breathing in shakily, she held her breath to try and stop herself from crying anymore. Her head pounded hard and she knew she hadn't any painkillers left in the apartment and the store wouldn't be open at half eight at night. She had to stop before it got any worse.
'You know if you keep crying Val that he won…' she thought before slapping herself mentally in punishment to her useless tears. 'Take that bottle of coke out of your bag…' she instructed herself. As she pulled her bag from her shoulder to rest it beside her, she let out a sob, but fewer tears drifted down her rosy cheeks. Her tiny hand dipped in the bag, scooting past clothes before feeling the still cold bottle, wet with condensation. She pulled the coke bottle from where it rested and placed it on her knees. 'Open it…' she did as such, smiling slightly when she heard the hiss of the gas escaping the small gap she had given it. When she opened it, she wasted no time to take a long swig, feeling the bubbles run down her throat; the beverage her favourite one in the entire world. When she had done, she put the lid back on the bottle before placing a hand on her forehead. Another little sob escaped the back of her throat as she put the bottle on the stairs.
Shutting her eyes, she became oblivious to the figure watching her at the bottom of the staircase, obviously wanting to go up but unsure of whether to disturb the woman that looked nothing but a vulnerable, extremely thin, sixteen year old rather then the twenty-something he knew she was. Even when the figure placed his feet upon the stairs she had no idea anyone was there until she heard a voice ringing through her ears. "Are you okay…?" the voice was softer then silk but still she jumped hard, knocking the bottle of coke from its resting place. It bounced down a couple of stairs before being scooped up by a large, tanned hand. Embarrassment followed the little jolt of fear as she looked up at Henry; her next door neighbour that she had rarely spoken to in her life. The tall man placed the bottle of coke back by her side, obviously unsure of how to act in a situation, but she nodded quickly. It was lucky for her that her cheeks were already red to cover up the fact she was blushing harder then ever in her life. This was horribly embarrassing; to have a neighbour find her like this.
'You shouldn't have been so stupid to cry in public!' she scolded herself hard. Remembering that he had asked her a question, she nodded her head again, trying not to look like a deer caught in the headlights. "I'm okay," she quickly said with a voice breaking slightly. "S-Sorry," she stuttered, scooting over on the staircase so that there was room for him to walk past. She grabbed her bag and placed it on the lap, giving him even more room. "I-I didn't mean to be in the way…"
"No, its okay," he assured her softly. His voice was so quiet; so gentle she wished she had noticed it more. At that moment in time she wished her friends had voices like that; tender ones that showed care no matter what the words were. Her eyes grazed up his clothes; a simple pair of dark blue trousers along with a teal coloured dress shirt that had been done up, save for the two buttons at the top, which revealed a grey shirt he wore underneath. His face was unshaven, as usual for Henry and his hair was exactly the same as usual. Each time she had seen him he took a different take on the colours of shirts he wore but that was it; he was predictable but predictability was never a bad thing. He carried the look he had better then most men she knew and at least he looked smart rather then a great big mess. Dangling from his shoulder was a thick black strap with a camera dangling from it, and he clutched an A3 sized black portfolio on his right hand. With his soft green eyes he looked into hers. "You're …" he gave a pause as he searched his mind for her name, which didn't take too long. "Valeria-Rose, right?"
"Y-Yeah," she stuttered, wiping the remaining tears away from her face with the back of her hand. "V-Valeria-Rose Blanc," she told him.
"Henry Townshend," he gave a soft smile before taking the space she had made by her. He sat down with his shoulder against the wall, trying to give her as much space as he could. His long legs made it so his feet rested on the step below where her little ones were. He reached down to rest the portfolio against his feet and put his hands on his knees, looking to the side at her. He listened to her silence as he watched her body movements; her trembling hands along with the fact she struggled to look him in the eye. A few tears drizzled down her cheek now and then, which caused him to frown slightly. She was the newest resident to the apartment building, having moved in just a month and a half ago and he knew little about her. Sometimes he spotted her walking to her apartment late at night, looking as if she were about to burst into tears. He had heard her yelling on the phone before in her bedroom, while he was in the kitchen or living room but what she was saying he couldn't make out; the wall having muffled her words into nothingness. She was kind, often saying hello or asking how he was when they past but never did they have a proper conversation, but that was the same with everyone else in the apartment building; he hardly knew anyone. Hell this was the closest he had been to a woman in quite awhile.
"I don't normally do this," she finally tore through the silence with an uplifting tone through her voice though he could still see what could only be described as pain in her eyes. Giving out a little laugh, she turned her head to look Henry in the eye; her lips curled into a smile as she brushed away the final tear. "Cry in public places," she explained when she caught a bit of confusion in his gems. She began to play with her fingers, nodding down at the camera he owned. "Are you a photographer?"
"Yeah," he nodded with a slight smile. Her face glowed from his words and she gave him a genuine smile. She seemed to be searching his eyes, perhaps looking for something that could be a danger to her, yet she found nothing in the kind mans gaze so she parted her lips to continue to speak.
"What do you take photos of?" she asked, unsure of whether this was a stupid question or not. Either everything or nothing she assumed. Damn, it was a stupid question. She sniffed, tucking some curls behind her ear as she did as such. From the storm that had been raging outside her hair was slightly, just slightly, damp to the touch. Umbrellas were saviours and hers got the honour of spending the night in the lobby to dry off. Lucky thing.
"Scenery mostly," he replied still as kind as his first sentence to her. Not once he had looked away from her face; he always watched her with serenely warm gems. Like a nervous child, she lowered her eyes and began to tug at her soft, sweet smelling sleeves with her fingers, unsure of where to take the conversation. She couldn't get up and leave nor did she want to; he wasn't a horrible man and she didn't really want to be alone. Not after what had just happened. He didn't seem like a weirdo at least; scenery was a normal thing to take photos of. Least it wasn't naked women or something…
"That's cool," she smiled gently, looking down at the stairs. "Can …I see some of your photos?" she asked softly as she looked up to him to return the eye contact. He nodded his head, reaching down for the portfolio's handle, which he wrapped his large fingers around. A little, only tiny blush began to appear on his cheeks; never had a woman been interested in his photography before. Slowly, making sure the camera was dangling from his shoulder, he stood to his feet; feeling his back being a little stiff from sitting on the hard stairs. Valeria watched with a little frown, wondering what he was doing. Like a gentleman, he held a hand out for her to take, but she frowned even more.
"Where are we going?" she asked curiously, thinking he carried the photos in the portfolio. Still, she grabbed both her bag along with the coke bottle with just her left hand and took his warm hand with her left one. His flesh was so warm against her cold hand that she felt the blood tingle from the heat it was gaining. It was actually a lovely feeling. He, on the other hand, was a little shock from her cold but helped her to her feet none-the-less.
"My apartment," he replied to her as she stood. As if he could read her mind, he added: "I carry sketches in here rather then photos," and when she stood she was the one to break their physical contact; quickly filling her hand with the coke bottle. She gave a nod in acknowledgement, allowing him to take a few steps ahead of her. Quickly, she followed him behind, feeling her cheeks darken in colour from embarrassment. "You don't mind, do you?" Henry asked as they passed her own door.
She let out an airy laugh. "I'm the one intruding on you so late at night," she informed him playfully as they stopped as his door. He fished around his jean pocket before pulling out the keys. "I should be asking you that question."
When he slid the key into the hole, he turned to her to shoot her a small smile. "I don't mind," he said softly, twisting the key in the lock.
When he heard the familiar click, he pushed the door open and led her inside, making sure to hold the door open for her while she entered the tiny hallway. The layout of his apartment was exactly the same as hers, yet a little duller and of course, neater. She slipped her boots off after closing the door behind herself and dropped her bag on the floor near her shoes. In the background she saw Henry switch on the lights to take away the darkness. He shut the blinds to block out anyone that could nosey through from the darkness of South Ashfield. In their silence the sound of the storm drifted through the walls; the howling of the wind and the crashing of the rain against the windows. Nervously, she placed her coke on the counter in his kitchen, watching as he trailed around; picking things up here and there to make the apartment neater. Her eyes glanced around the neat living room, looking at the photos he held on the walls. While she was looking, he informed her they were all pictures he had taken, save for the one above the chair that Frank Sunderland had given him when he moved in. She smiled in awe; amazed by the beauty he had captured from just a lens. Quickly, silently, almost with her notice, Henry moved into the small hallway, to his bedroom. For a few moments Valeria stood their awkwardly, wondering what she was doing with herself. Making a new friend? She sort of hoped so though as she stood there something didn't feel right. It wasn't Henry; he seemed lovely and there wasn't anything bad behind his actions. Hell he seemed far more nervous then she was; had he ever had someone apart from the super in his apartment? Probably not, she assumed. She had to admit he was a loner and perhaps was enjoying her company but still there was something wrong. With the apartment. She felt as if she belonged yet she felt as if she had to run far, far away. Her heart began to feel heavy as she stood there, twisting the ends of her shirt with her fingers. A heat touched her shoulder as she gazed into a picture, breaking her trail of thought immediately. A bolt of what felt like electricity burst through her body as she jumped out of fear, swirling around to see Henry's almost shocked face looking back into hers.
"I didn't mean to frighten you," he apologised quickly, pulling his hand slowly back from her. She took a second to regain her breath as the fear transformed itself into embarrassment. Shaking her head, she told him it was alright before gazing to his right hand that held a large black folder. After a little pause he lifted the folder up to her. "These are my photos," he offered the book to her, which she took with both of her ice cold hands. They both smiled at one another, Henry noticing how the bloodshot look of her eyes was slowly disappearing. She was a pretty little thing; he couldn't help but think; kind as well. He was nervous, of course and he wasn't sure of how to act around the stranger but still he was going to make the best of it. Being social every now and then was always a good thing, even if it was a hard thing for him to do. Plus, he didn't want to leave her alone, not after how he saw her on the stairs by herself. "Make yourself at home," he added, before moving into the kitchen.
Looking from left to right, she made her decision to sit at the counter, not feeling comfortable enough to sit in his living room. She crossed her legs and opened the folder; each photo covered by a plastic wallet. On the left hand side of the plastic was a white label, with the date and location of the image. In the corner of her eye she watched Henry making himself a drink; a cup of coffee. While he waited for the kettle to boil he watched her softly, obviously wondering what had upset her so much. When she reached the fourth picture, she winced, feeling her head become far worse. "Henry…?" she asked softly, looking up at him. The picture below her was one of the woods near Silent Hill; the label unwritten on but she didn't notice. "Do you have any painkillers? My head's killing me," she explained, which he answered to silently by moving to a draw near the fridge. Sliding it open, he pulled out a red box, which he handed to her. Smiling gratefully, she took two pills out and swallowed them with a chug of her coke. Henry returned the painkillers back where they were and looked at her.
"Would you like this in a glass?" he asked, nodding to her bottle of coke. Turning the page, she bit her lip before nodding her head. He took the bottle and while she was immersed in another one of his pictures, he put the coke into a glass filled with ice and handed it to her. She thanked him gratefully and allowed him to make himself a cup of coffee; black coffee. He sat down beside her, sipping at the hot beverage happily. She looked at him in the corner of her eye before shaking her head.
"Henry these are amazing," she smiled widely, allowing her teeth to be on show. "It's just scenery but your pictures are so beautiful; I've never seen anything like this before."
He blushed in response to her words. "Thank you, Valeria-Rose," he smiled nervously as she closed the folder, obviously looking as if she was ready to go back now. A shoulder length curl draped down the side of her face that she quickly wiped behind her ear.
"Valeria," she corrected with a small smile as she took a sip of the drink. "Or Rose. Or Val," she let out a little laugh. "You don't have to use my whole name."
He nodded and after a pause spoke gently. "Are you going now?" he asked softly, sounding almost disappointed to Valeria's ears. She put a hand on her lap before tapping her feet against the chair; her chocolate eyes glancing down at the ground momentarily.
"I …" she bit her lip gently with her stunningly white teeth. "I don't want to impose on you anymore then I have," she glanced down at her blue watch, ticking away almost till nine at night.
"You're not," he assured her. He reached foreword to place a hand on her arm gently. After a few seconds of the contact, he pulled back from her. "Why were you crying?"
This question caused her to hunch her shoulders almost dejectedly as she sat there. She clasped her hands around one another before shaking her head, almost trying to stop tears from falling down her face. "Stupid argument…" she whispered quietly, shaking her head once more. She never thought she would find herself in the comfort of a stranger, let alone Henry Townshend who was the most hermit man she had met; never did she think she would be in his apartment, talking to him and wanting to stay there yet wanting to run away because something about the walls frightened her. In the corner of her eye she saw his hand slowly reach to her shoulder. When he touched her flesh, he became as stiff as a board, obviously wanting to help her yet unsure of how to. Still, just the warmth of his hand was enough to make her smile slightly. Sitting there, she could feel the headache drifting from her head from the pills he had given her.
"You can," he paused slightly, looking at her for a moment as if contemplating something but continued. "Stay here, if you want to. I can order a take out, if you want."
Valeria smirked before nodding. "Alright, if you don't mind, Henry."