Shorter chapter this time. I think the next chapter will be very much like this one, but the one after that I think will be longer.
Well, anyway. Of to the nut-case we all love, okay?
Enjoy!
Chapter 7.
Light coming from the window at the end. Clean, lime-green walls is a refreshing sight. Floor is devoid of any dirt. A man and a child smiles at the camera on a photo on the right wall.
Walking. Towards the window. Smudgy, lime-green walls around. Feeling claustrophobic. Blood makes the floor slippery.
Photo of a man and a child hanging loosely on the right wall, threatening to fall down on the floor.
A crack on the window, diverting the light; creating twilight.
Reaching the window, it's dark outside.
White hair.
Red scar.
Golden...
Allen woke up in a flash, his breathing ragged. He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing but he couldn't stop that feeling of hopelessness, knowing that something was off but not being able to do anything about it. Flashes of gold emerged in his mind, he tried to keep the images but they were slipping; fading too quickly.
Lulu was in the room, sitting on the bedside, her arm around Allen's shoulders. He calmed down slowly. He got this safe feeling when she was there. He didn't question it, he was just glad that she was there. Allen closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Now, he was calm. Lulu noticed the changed and sat up straighter. She pulled her arm away and then she quietly said:
"A dream?" Allen was quiet for a moment, he opened his eyes; frowning. He shrugged lightly and moved his head side to side.
"No... I... I don't know...Lulu...?"
"Yes."
"Can you take me to Dr. Cross? He's my psychiatrist", Lulu smiled friendly and nodded.
"Sure, no problem."
...
The two were sitting across each other, one in an arm chair and the other in a couch. The first one had a notebook in his hands with a pen; ready to take notes. Allen was silent in his seat, Cross waited patiently for him to start talking. Allen opened his mouth a couple of times but he closed them almost immediately.
He didn't know what to say. Last night he'd had a dream. He'd felt... watched, but at the same time he knew he had been alone. He didn't remember the details. Images were flashing in his mind. Smudgy lime-green walls, clean lime-green walls. It didn't matter what the scenery was. Everything was normal. That was what scared Allen, the normality of the whole thing. The images that he saw in his mind, they were fleeting, he could just about remember that he has them. He wanted to tell Cross about them, to put the images into words. But it was impossible.
"It's been a few days since we last met, I trust everything is okay?" Cross then finally asked. Allen looked at him and a soft smile formed.
"Actually... yes", Allen said, the smile widening, "I feel great. The last few days I've actually had a good night's sleep." Cross raised an eyebrow, had a bit of a dubious expression on his face, but Allen's calm demeanor was contagious.
"Alright. So nothing strange has happened the last few days?" Allen smiled even wider, shaking his head.
"Nope", Cross nodded and wrote something down, "but..." he looked up at his patient. Allen was thinking, hard. Finding the right words to say. "I... I've had... a dream... or dreams", Cross frowned, but he stayed silent. "I don't remember them, but I... I get the feeling that they're important... somehow." Cross nodded, urging him to continue. "When I wake up I feel... scared, panicked... but then I forget the dream and feel normal. The flashes I get, bits and pieces of the dream, they're normal but... wrong."
"Can you define wrong?" Allen opened his mouth but nothing came out. He didn't know what to say. How to say it.
"Gold. I remember gold", he then finally said, Cross looked at him.
"Gold? As in the...?"
"Color, something was golden... but I don't remember what." Cross nodded slowly. They both fell silent for awhile.
...
Allen walked to the already running car. Lulu was waiting for him in the driver's seat, reading a magazine. She looked up when Allen opened the door; she put away the magazine and smiled widely at him. He smiled back.
"Everything went well?" She asked and put her hands on the wheel. Allen put on the seatbelt.
"Yeah, we're going home?" Allen asked.
"No... we have to go to the store, but it'll be just a quicky."
"Can we buy some candy?" He gave her his biggest and most sweet smile he could manage. He knew that that smile was invincible, that anyone who was subjected to it would melt like butter and give in. Lulu was no exception.
"...Alright."
The day went on smoothly; they went to the store and bought the necessities, and Allen got his candy. He felt it was time to reward himself, he'd been through a tough time but... now it might actually be alright. Like Mana had said: there's always a light at the end. The dark times were over. He was out.
Everything was fine.
He had nothing to worry about. They weren't taking him anymore. The arm was still... abnormal... gross, but functional. He didn't know why it was like that. But right now, he felt calm, happy even.
Though, he did not like that every evening Lulu had to examine the arm. The first night she did a blood test, said that she'll send it to Dr. Lee for an examination. Allen didn't think too much of it. He could move the arm and feel with it just fine, like with a normal arm.
He went to sleep like the last few days, content and feeling absolutely safe.
Everything was completely fine.
...
The hall was lit. Completely empty. The white tapestry with the black, intricate pattern was clean. Walking towards the front door. Passing a mirror. Picking up a jacket from the coat-hanger, putting on shoes.
Drip.
Frowning, wondering what that noise was. Standing up. Frowning.
Drip.
Looking around. Trying to find the source.
Drip.
Echo. The dripping sound came from everywhere. Can't find the source.
Feeling wet on the cheek, leading to the chin. Wiping it off.
Red. Blood.
The gray tapestry had a black, cross-shaped pattern. The floor was dirty. Blood everywhere. Tracing the wetness on the chin to the cheek, by the eye up to the forehead. Feeling irregularities. Seven of them. Backtracks. Stands in front of the cracked mirror.
Bloody forehead. Seven of them.
Allen woke up screaming. Immense pain in his forehead. Door opens; a hand on his forehead. Feverishly warm.
Everything was not fine.
I really like this story, and I'm trying different ways of writing and I think I like this type the most. Using even punctuation as a way of delivering emotions and short sentences. The only down-side is that it has to be night for me to get the feeling right -.-
Seya next chapter ^^
