Again, it's from Henry's point of view. I really need to start finding new things to type about .
This takes place after the Water Prison, and Andrew's death. So read it, love it, hate it, hate me, review, do as you please.
_
I opened my eyes and was casually greeted by my ceiling fan.
It wasn't the first nor was it going to be the last time I was going to see it.
Far from the last.
I groggily pulled myself into a sitting position. I lifted my hands and pressed them into my eyes with a drowsy groan. After my vision cleared, I examined my room.
No voices, no head ache, no shadow in the closet.
So far, so good.
I pulled myself to my feet, using the desk supporting my lamp and telephone to steady myself. Hearing my joints pop a few times, I staggered over to my bedroom door and grabbed the handle.
Even hearing the minor squeaks from the door's bolts made made me want to jump out of my skin. My weary mind tried to convince me it was one of those sick, mutated dogs. I shoved those thoughts to the back of my brain and ignored them. Using the wall as an aid, I managed to reach my living room and head over to the kitchen. I walked over to the sink and turned the faucet to hot. I let it run for a few moments, using that time to pick at the grime beneath my fingernails.
I leaned over the sink and cupped my hands, letting the warm water fill them and spill over. I splashed the water on my face, and repeated this process twice before turning the sink off.
I thought twice about wiping my face on my hands and decided that my shirt sleeve was cleaner. I blinked the rest of the water out of my eyes and propped myself against the counter behind me.
The events prior to my awakening rushed back into my head.
That poor man. Floating in the water, numbers crudely dug into his large gut. I could've helped him. Sure, maybe I could've persuaded him to stay with me instead. Perhaps I could've protected him.
It was too late now. I could've helped Andrew, and I failed.
Like I failed to help Jasper.
And...Cynthia.
I clenched my fists and bit my lip.
Stop.
I need to clear my mind.
I pulled myself off the counter and looked towards my bookshelf. I hadn't read a decent book in a while, for obvious reasons. A lot of the books were on photography, others on history. I didn't feel like reading any of them.
My T.V. was broken and I couldn't get anything interesting on my radio.
My coffee table had a few car magazines on it. I've looked through them a hundred times though and could probably name every car mentioned.
I looked down disdainfully. I was covered in filth and I smelled like rotting carcass. I really needed to shower.
I blinked. Yes. A shower seemed absolutely amazing at the moment.
My feet dragged me over to the restroom, and I paused.
That damn hole.
Screw it, I want to shower. I'll just ignore the hole and any of the weird, disturbing sounds that comes from it.
I turned the knob and pushed the door open. I kicked it closed behind me and grabbed a towel off of my shelf. I leaned over and set it on the sink, trying to block the hole out of my field of vision. I leaned down and opened the cabinet below my towel shelf and was satisfied to find a bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap.
I retrieved the two items and placed them on the ridge of the tub.
I started to remove my clothing and set them at the foot of my toilet. I eyed the hole suspiciously before completely disrobing. Who knew what could come crawling out of ther-
Stop.
I'm here to clear my head.
I stepped into the tub and closed the shower curtain. I reached down and turned the handle to 'hot', and waited.
There was nothing for a few seconds, just the rumbling of the pipes.
I stared up at the showerhead, hearing the rumbling get louder, and louder.
The showerhead torked as a furocious spray of red exploded from the nozzle and hit me straight on. I stumbled backwards and smacked into the marble directly behind me. Dazed, I slid to the floor of the tub and watched as it began to fill with warm, sick smelling red liquid. I blindly reached forward and pulled the drain upward, but the red fluid barely started to sink. It was very thick.
The smell got worse by the second. I got to my knees and pulled on the handle again, but the liquid still erupted from the showerhead.
So I sat there, miserably getting pounded by the red liquid before it stopped abruptly.
I rubbed my eyes to clear the liquid, and slowly opened them.
My entire shower and tub were coated in the red substance, not to mention myself. I slowly stood up and wrinkled my nose at the stench. It smelled very much like the Water Prison.
Wait a second..
I grabbed my mouth and forced the shower curtain away, tripping and hitting my tile floor to get away from my shower.
Oh God.
Oh my God.
It was blood.
And it was all over me.
I crawled over to my toilet and heaved. Barely anything came up, but my stomach was burning so bad that I didn't care.
I knelt like that for about five minutes, holding the porcelain for dear life.
Eventually my grip loosened and I sagged my shoulders. I turned around and grabbed the towel off of the sink and absently wrapped myself in it. I grabbed my dirty clothes and opened my door. I walked into my living room and sat on my couch, ignoring the cold as the air from the fan cooled my soaking body. I pressed myself against the arm of the couch and the cushion, feeling sick to my stomach once again.
Resisting the urge to hurl once more, I buried my face between my knees and wrapped the towel even tighter. I was racked with sobs for an uncountable amount of time. My plentiful amount of cuts and bruises stung terribly, which also induced my weeping.
Oh my God.
How the hell am I going to get out of here?