WTH IS THIS? ===============================================================================)
Chapter 28, To Be Free
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FALL 26TH – WEDNESDAY
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Denny's POV
"KUU!" I yelled in alarm as my head snapped up.
I was breathing hard, as if I just finished running a marathon. My hand touched my forehead, feeling moisture there, sweat- and a lot of it.
"'Bout time you woke up," a familiar voice said, obviously grumpy too.
I then brought my head to the side of my head, trying to calm the throbbing headache, before I looked towards the door. The room felt like it was spinning to me, and it looked blurry as well. It made it hard for me to focus on my visitor.
Once the room stopped spinning and my vision was clearer, I noticed the black cowboy hat first. It didn't take me long to put two and two together.
"Yo Vaughn!" I greeted to him with a smile.
I lifted my arm to see if he would give me a high-five, but the pain I felt all around my chest and stomach area prevented me from doing so. Instead, I immediately lowered the arm and brought my hands to my sides.
I couldn't help but groan in pain.
"Oh man… I feel like I've been hit by a truck."
"Obviously you shouldn't be moving…much," Vaughn said from his position by the door.
He changed his position to sit in the chair by the table, "And it's more like you've been hit by a tree."
The throbbing in my head became more painful as flashes of my memory of the storm went through my mind… and it was mangled with my nightmare of the past.
"Well… at least I'm alive."
"Along with your stupidity. Really, what were you doing outside during a storm?"
The pain in my head must have been more serious than I thought, because his words sounded distorted to me.
"Dude… your voice sounds all weird to me."
I didn't explain to him what I meant, though I was saved from doing so. The door creaked open, and I all I saw was white… a white coat.
"Ah! I see that you are completely awake now! How are you feeling?"
I blinked my eyes a few times before I looked at my new guest, Dr. Trent.
"Besides my headache and the pain at my sides? It's all good," I told him.
"Sorry to hear you are not pain free, but there is good news," Dr. Trent said as he approached the bed with a clipboard in his hand. "You haven't sustained any major injuries. Not a broken bone in your body, just minor bruises that should heal in a few days. You are, indeed, very lucky."
He reached a hand up to my forehead, the back of his hand touching it, "And it seems your fever is gone as well… despite the sweat."
He wiped his hand against his coat before jotting down something on his clipboard, "And you have been in and out of consciousness for the past few days. Though, no need to worry. You are, mostly, in good health. You can leave in a few hours… just in case."
Luckily the distortion of words I heard went away. I only caught most of what he said, but it was good news at least. At the same time, I noticed how dry my throat felt, and how cracked my mouth felt was further evidence on how parched I was.
"That's great and all, but I'm feeling really thirsty right about now."
Dr. Trent nodded his head, making one last scribble on his board, before he turned and left. I hope he comes back with a very large glass, I feel like I could drink the whole ocean in one gulp.
"Not a broken bone eh?" Vaughn said with a shake of his head, "You either have someone watching over you, or you have the damn devil's luck."
I couldn't help but chuckle at his comment.
"Well, everybody loves me… not sure about you though."
"…wish the storm took your personality instead of just leaving bruises."
"Ouch! I think someone needs to turn up the heat, its suddenly getting really cold in here."
Vaughn rolled his eyes, but I saw a hint of a smirk as well, "Now, you still didn't answer me. What were you doing outside while there was a storm raging?"
"I kind of stayed at the diner too long I guess. I… remember going outside, the rain and hail was already falling down pretty hard, and the wind wasn't any better. Since it was blowing so hard, I had to try to calm down… Kuu!" I then realized that I didn't feel the familiar light weight on my shoulder.
Without hesitating, I looked around the small room I was in, looking for the familiar black round shape of my buddy… but he wasn't anywhere in sight. Despite the pain that I knew I would feel from moving too much, I pushed the covers off of me and turned my body around to try to stand up.
"I don't think it's a good idea for you to stand," Vaughn commented, still in his seat with his arms crossed.
I stood up anyway, and I fell back onto the bed not even a second later. Apparently my body was still weak.
"Looks like Dr. Trent was right about the safety precautions."
One of my eyes winced from the brief pain before I said, "Kuu… where is he?"
I figured that if they found me, someone had to find Kuu nearby… right?
Vaughn gave a very low sigh, as if he knew the question I asked was going to pop up sooner or later, "I'm afraid that nobody has seen him. Dr. Trent said that Jungle Boy found you and, I uh… asked him to look around the jungle, but he couldn't find Kuu anywhere. I didn't have a lot of luck either."
Vaughn's words made me felt more worried for Kuu's wellbeing.
"Where could he be?"
Then I thought of his favorites spots on the island, places he would fly to whenever he wanted to be alone.
"Maybe he is hiding? Very much safe?"
"Or his injuries are too great for him to come to you," my conscience stated.
I felt my eye wince again, hoping that he wasn't injured too much that he couldn't fly. Without his wings….
"Maybe he flew off for warmer weather," Vaughn suggested, bringing my thoughts away from the worst case scenario for Kuu.
As much as I liked the sound of that idea… it wasn't true. I shook my head at his suggestion, "Kuu has never done that before, never needed to."
I brought a hand up to my shoulder, where Kuu would usually be perched at. With my hand feeling nothing but my shoulder, it just made the situation more real. It made me feel agitated and… incomplete.
It took me a moment for me to realize that I was shaking my head, almost violently, in denial. I couldn't, I just couldn't believe that Kuu was… gone. I refused to believe in it.
"No, just no. I… I can't believe he's just…gone! Kuu wouldn't just up and leave me! He-he's the only one that I have that's-" I immediately closed my mouth, as I almost revealed aloud that Kuu was the only friend I had left from my past, from my hometown… the last thing my father gave me, and the last thing my mother saw before….
Not one soul knew how connected Kuu was to me, not even Lanna. Lanna doesn't even know about my parents. Every time she asked me, I always avoided the question and her not-so-subtle hints to reveal that part of my life. She soon gave up asking about it, and I'm glad she did. If she kept probing and poking about it, I wouldn't be able to explain it anyway. If I told her about them… it would just bring back those horrific moments, and I try to avoid them as much as I can.
I squeezed my shoulder, my left hand still gripped to my right shoulder.
And the dream… I haven't had that dream in years about my parents—accident. The last time I did was when….
I sighed and closed my eyes, not wanting to finish the thought.
"Your bird, Kuu… isn't just some stray bird that you took in, is he?"
"What makes you say that?" I asked him, trying my best to understand the meaning behind his question.
"I mean your level of care for that bird is different."
I didn't like what he said, and I actually felt a little irritated at him. I'm not sure if it's because Kuu is missing and I don't have him to remind me what I should be, or if it's because a little of Vaughn's personality has rubbed onto me over the time I knew him.
"And what does that mean?" I asked, carefully keeping my tone mostly neutral.
"I'm not saying that you shouldn't care. I'm just saying that compared to what I have seen throughout my experience concerning strays, when it runs away… the owner does get upset to a degree. But you… the expressions that you are giving are different. You're acting like you lost your life or something."
I remained silent instead, deciding to not answer the words he didn't ask.
"Also, Lanna mentioned something about you screaming a few times over the past few days… not to mention, you even yelled Kuu's name when you woke up. I was here, remember?"
This time I let out a sigh. Deciding if I should mention my dream to him or not.
"Not like he talks to anybody else much or that he would mention it if I told him…"
I decided against the idea of mentioning it to him and instead said, "Let me just say that Kuu means a lot to me. I just feel… weird without him resting on my shoulder—or my head the few times he has rested there."
He gave me a blank stare in reaction, but to my relief, he didn't push me to explain or asked me to elaborate on my comment. Instead, he gave me a nod in understanding.
I closed my eyes to silently pray to the fishing god(1) that Kuu would be alright, and that he would find his way back safely if nobody on the island could find him.
"Be safe buddy… I just—don't want to be alone. I don't want to be the only reminder of my hometown; you have all of the memories stored, both the good and the bad… I don't want to forget the good…."
Opening my eyes again, I turned my head to look at Vaughn. Before I could ask Vaughn about him possibly looking for Kuu again, the door to the room opened. The first thing I saw was the white lab coat, immediately telling me that it was Dr. Trent at the door. I hoped that he brought me a drink of water, as I still felt thirsty.
From my position on the bed, I gave him a weak smile before he completely stepped into the room.
At first, everything was fine… until my eyes drifted to the object in his hand.
I felt my mind go into panic mode; the room felt like it was spinning, my whole body began to break out in a cold sweat or at least it felt like it, my lungs constricted as if a snake was choking me, I felt my pupils shrink in size, and I began to shake uncontrollably.
I then heard a loud noise ring throughout my ears, making me feel like I would go deaf at any second. The loud noise turned out to be someone screaming, a frightening scream. There were also shouts of profanity here and there, between the screams, the words directed at Dr. Trent.
It took me a moment to realize that the screaming and the cursing… was me. My own doing.
No matter how much my mind, another part of it, told me to stop, to calm down, to ease up- I couldn't. I just couldn't stop, even though I really wanted to and I knew what I was doing was wrong, my body wouldn't listen, and the larger part of my brain wouldn't let me control myself either. It was as if something else took control of me, both my mind and actions.
I didn't realize that I was thrashing as well, kicking and flailing my arms as if I was defending myself against an evil demon… I didn't even feel the strong hands apply pressure to my arms, pushing me back from causing any harm to anyone around me or to myself.
I could then feel my eyes move around the spinning room frantically, before I settled them onto a face that wasn't moving with the room.
Vaughn was yelling at me, but I couldn't make out the words he was saying.
As if someone unmuted the world to me, I began to hear what he was yelling to me.
"Damn it Denny! Calm the hell down!" he yelled.
The room slowly stopped spinning, my lungs were loosened, my body stopped sweating, my pupils went back to their normal size, and the shaking of my whole body ceased. The thrashing of my arms and legs stopped shortly after too.
I was breathing loudly once again, like I did when I first woke up.
That was when I began to feel the pressure around my arms, the grip very tight, tight enough to not make me move too much… and feel the pain of the grip.
"Are you calm now? Or does Dr. Trent have to make a restraint for you?" Vaughn asked me, his face expression showing his usual frown and irritation, though there was a slight look of surprise there too.
I blinked my eyes a few times, not sure what happened or what he was really talking about.
"What are you ta-"
"Answer the question," he said instead, his expression dead serious.
I decided to nod my head in answer, not able to talk yet. I felt like I wasn't getting enough air in my lungs.
He gave me a wary look, but he did quickly let go of my arms and sat back down in his seat. His eyes never left me once, as if he was making sure I wouldn't make any sudden movements.
I began to rub the side of my arms, he gripped them hard enough that they felt painful, and he probably left a bruise or two too.
"What was that for?" I asked him, slightly upset that he did that.
His frown deepened a bit. "If this is some joke on your part Denny, I'm not laughing," he said. He moved his hand towards the bottom of his chin and rubbed at it, as if something hit him.
"Joke?" I repeated, confused with his choice of words. I then shook my head and continued, "I'm not joking Vaughn. I have no idea why you had to grip my arms."
He just stared back at me, his eyes unmoving. I think he was trying to see if I was telling the truth, or if I was deceiving him.
He finally blinked once and said, with that irritated tone of his, "You went damn psycho once Dr. Trent came in is what happened. You started screaming and cursing like somebody was trying to kill you. And then you started to kick and swing your arms around as if you were trying to fight off whatever in the hell freaked you out."
He rubbed at his chin harder, making me ask him, "Why are you doing that?"
"Because one of your damn kicks got me on the chin," he muttered as he kept rubbing along it, while silently cursing under his breath.
I blinked at him in disbelief before I chuckled lightly, though it felt almost forced. "That's funny Vaughn… well, not really funny, but come on. You're basically telling me that I panicked once Dr. Trent came inside the room... and hit you by accident."
"If I didn't hold you back like that, you would have probably attacked Dr. Trent too."
I slightly shook my head at Vaughn's claims, but once I looked around the room, I realized that Dr. Trent wasn't anywhere. It made me feel doubtful about my own words.
Before I could question Vaughn further concerning my... panic attack, I heard the door softly creak open. Vaughn turned away from me to look towards the door and basically yelled, "I don't think it's a good idea for you to come back in Dr. Trent. 'Cause if he tries to attack you again, I'm not going to hold him back."
"I think I know what caused his sudden outburst," Dr. Trent said from the doorway.
"I hope you're sure about that," Vaughn commented, his tone still serious and irritated.
The door opened wider, and he stepped into the room, slowly; making sure that I wouldn't... have another 'panic' attack like before.
Once he was inside the room fully, he stayed by the door, standing there. I guess to make a run for it if he needed to. Although, me looking at him didn't bring back any of those feelings I had before again.
He sighed in relief before he approached me. His face expression conveyed sympathy... and I didn't like it. I had the feeling that he was going to deliver some really bad news to me.
He looked at his clipboard briefly before he looked back at me, and he let out a low sigh. "Denny... I'm afraid the only explanation for your sudden outburst was caused after seeing that other object I held in my hand."
I did remember that there was something in his hand... but I don't remember exactly what it was.
I gave a light chuckle and jokily said, "Wasn't a needle right? I haven't been afraid of those since I was kid, but I guess it's possible for an old fear to rise up again."
He didn't laugh, not even a ghost of a smile appeared. His expression didn't change at all. "I truly wish it was something as minor as that."
"Minor?" I repeated. Whatever he thought was the problem, he didn't see it as minor. It just made me feel nervous and my positive demeanor towards the situation was faltering.
"Denny... you have somehow developed a strong fear of... well, you're now an aquaphobic."
I blinked at him once, being unsure if I heard him right. Aqua means water, and phobic, which sounds like phobia- means fear, right? If I put those meanings together...
I laughed at his twisted sense of humor, so much that I felt like my eyes would become blurry.
Sucking up the last bit of laughter in me, I then said to him, "That's quite funny Doctor. A fisherman, like me, is afraid of water? Yeah, okay."
I let out another chuckle again... but I was the only one laughing. Dr. Trent still held that look of sympathy on his face. His expression unchanging. Vaughn, on the other hand, looked surprised with the news, but he remained silent. Though, I don't expect him to laugh; he's just not like that.
The little humorous mood I had left in me died down, very abruptly. I kept looking at his face, looking for any signs of change. Any type of change that would tell me that he was wrong, even a little wrong with his observations, or if he doubted his own words.
Nothing changed, not even a little.
I shook my head in denial, slightly frowning, as I wasn't finding this vicious 'joke' funny anymore.
"I'm not finding this joke to be funny anymore... What makes you so sure that I'm afraid of water? What if it's... I don't know! Like... the thing the water was in! Like the cup itself or the color of it or something! I'm not afraid of water!"
Dr. Trent shook his head and said, "I thought of those possibilities, but if you think about the recent event that happened to you, it makes a lot of sense of how your fear came to be."
"No it doesn't make sense! Not at all!" I yelled, almost screaming at him, my face actually became a little heated.
I breath out a slow sigh, calming down, and said, "Besides, I think what I saw in your hand was red anyway. I still think that freaked me out, not the water that was inside. How could I see the inside of it if the cup was red?"
The expression on his face finally changed, to one of confusion. "Red?"
He then looked at me, his eyes not moving, observing me quietly.
Before I could ask him why he was looking at me like that, he finally said, as low as a whisper that I was almost unsure if I heard him at all, "Denny... the cup wasn't red. It was a clear glass cup."
My eyes enlarged, also dashing my side of the argument of him being wrong. I didn't even get the color of the object right.
"What if he's right?" my conscience asked me.
"He-he can't be right! He just can't be!" I argued back.
"No, no, just no... I-I won't believe it! You have to prove it to me!" I exclaimed at him, forcing him to keep arguing about his observations. Doctor or not, I won't believe it. I can't believe in it! If I do, I am...
Instead of him leaving the room, like I expected him to do, he simply said in that professional tone of his, "Do you really want me to do that again? Do you really want that anxiety feeling to come back? And even if I did do it, which I won't, you might cause harm to yourself or even take longer to recover from the panic attack then your previous one."
That time, I couldn't argue with him. The words I wanted to say wouldn't leave my throat. It was as if they were stuck tightly where my Adam's apple rested. I did open my mouth, but nothing left my mouth.
My whole world, one I have known since childhood, just flipped upside down... in a single day. After years of being part of a familiar and enjoyable lifestyle, one I was completely content with, it all just... goes to hell in one day!
I couldn't take it, the pain I felt. My hand went to where my heart rested and I squeezed in that area, trying to stop the ache I felt there. My head felt light, and not in a good way. Even my breathing slowed down. I wanted to scream, yell, and break down all at the same time.
Before I could decide on any of those feelings, I suddenly turned to Dr. Trent with an idea.
"Well, you're a doctor. Can't you prescribe something to me that would help me? I'm sure there is something I can take that can-"
He immediately shook his head in answer.(2)
His answer drove me over the edge.
I took him by surprise when I quickly stood up, gripping the sides of his coat, and I ignored every painful nerve in my body; I simply didn't care.
"What do you mean no! There's got to be something for my... condition! I can't live like this!"
He didn't even try to shrug me off. "Denny, what you have is psychological, not physical or even a minor illness. I am a doctor of the physical plane, not the mental kind. I can't help you with your specific problem. The only thing I can do is recommend you to go speak with a psychiatrist."
"I do not need to go see some psychiatrist! I am not crazy! Are you telling me that I am, huh? Are you telling me that I belong in some damn psych ward! Because I am telling you that I don't!"
"You need to calm down Denny," someone said.
It took me a second to realize that Vaughn said that. I actually forgot he was in the room. What he said to me didn't ease my mind; it just made me even more upset.
I took him by surprise when I turned to face him, letting Dr. Trent go in the process. I still had that panic feeling going on inside of me, and it didn't help that Dr. Trent's original words were still ringing inside of my head, making me feel stircrazy.
"Calm down? Calm down? Calm down! How could you ask me to calm down!I-I-I can't calm down you damn moron! Can't you see that-that..."
My whole body began to shake again, but it wasn't like before. This time, I was shaking because my overworked body couldn't take it anymore, couldn't even stand straight anymore. It was stilled bruised from the storm and the pain didn't subside while I was arguing with them; I just ignored the pain.
But I couldn't prolong it anymore; I had to let my body rest.
I didn't protest against my body anymore. Instead, I sat back onto the bed, almost fell back onto it. My whole body still ached, but at least my kneecaps weren't clattering against one another anymore, threatening to make me crash down to the floor. The task was harder than I thought, as I was breathing hard again, sucking in air as quick as I could.
Even though I was physically out of it, along with my throat being even drier than before, my mind wasn't finished.
I kept shaking my head, muttering the same word over and over again. Or maybe, I wasn't muttering the word at all, maybe I was telling it to myself in my mind. It just that the words seemed louder in sound.
"No, no, no..."
It didn't take long for the same feelings from before to wash over me.
Dr. Trent said something to me in that sympathetic tone of his. I don't know what he said, but neither did I care. I had too much on my mind then to be worried about what he said. What else could he say that wasn't worse then what he already told me? What good news could he tell me that would overshadow my situation, my life?
Now that I thought about it... what will I do now?
The silence of the room dragged on, and I didn't have an answer for my own question. In fact, I'm not sure what it is I should do now. I have never felt so... lost before...
The silence was broken, "That was a first." Vaughn commented, making it seem like his comment was more of a thought aloud then a comment directed at me.
I actually forgot he was here in the room, again, but I didn't look at him.
"You actually called me a moron, and even said 'damn'... although compared to your panic attack, that was milder," he continued, and I could hear the slight surprise in his comment, not really offensive.
I felt my eye wince a bit, as that was something I didn't really mean to say. It just that at that moment, I couldn't really hold back my panic. I have never felt so out of control before.
"What is wrong with me?"
Never have I felt so... disoriented, not even when my parents had that horrible accident... at least not as much as I feel right now.
My lack of response to him must have made him feel uncomfortable or something, because he then decided to say something else. I know Vaughn isn't the talking type, and that he can be quite meanspirited at times; but he didn't have to go so far with the next words out of his mouth.
"I don't really see what the big deal is, Denny. It's just water."
I felt my eye twitch again, and I wasn't exactly sure of the reason. Am I upset about my situation or with his crude statement? And there are other times I wonder, such as these, if someone is purposely trying to push my own patience by making him say such things to me.
Or maybe he's just that dense about my situation, of why I reacted in that particular way to Dr. Trent.
I sighed and finally said to him, "I don't think you understand at all, Vaughn. I am a fisherman, have been all of my life, since I was a kid. I was raised to be one and destined to be one when I was born. Maybe you see it as a hobby of mine, or even see it as it being simply my job, but it's more than that."
I lightly brought my fingers together, overlapping them, before I gently rested my chin on it. "You don't understand how I feel when I am out there. The ocean isn't just water. I can understand that the water is dead about time it reaches the shoreline, losing its strength and its excitement. But when I am in the middle of the ocean, in-between where it meets the sky... it makes me want to look into its depths. To discover what's inside of it; and it offers a very large variety of its mysteries, and there is always more to be discovered."
My eyes closed, as I tried to bring up those feelings I get when I am out in the ocean... but it didn't happen. My mind couldn't even conjure up those emotions, not even a little. It just made my heart ache a little. I swear I felt it tighten. "When I am out there, I feel like I can do anything. That I can catch anything I want without second thought, that I can relax, and my mind and soul are one and not separate like I feel when I am on land. Fishing to me is like breathing. It's not a hobby, not a job, it's my bloodline. It's my lifeline in order to survive. I feel alive when I am out there. And being out there tells me that the ocean is alive too."
My fingers tighten a little without my say-so. "Those are the feelings I get when I am out there... and yet..." I opened my eyes, and I finally glanced at him. His stony expression stared back at me, before I said quietly, "Yet I have to ask... how one can be afraid of something that they love?"
And then I realized that was what scared me.
The question I asked was what sent me into a mixture of feelings, confusion being one of them. I know how I feel when I am out fishing; the open air, the smell of the ocean, the calm waves under my boat, the gentle swaying... the freedom. Even if it was for just those few hours, for those few precious moments, I felt at peace. Without a care in the world, not an ounce of worry would cloud my mind. Even when I left that special place, to return to land, those feelings still engulfed me throughout the day, making me feel cheerful about anything, even when something negative was thrown my way.
It really put me on edge, to now be afraid of water. Making me fear a place that made me feel free. This new fear of mine made me fear freedom. How could one fear that?
Now I felt like a trapped animal on land, never again to explore those mysterious depths again. To never be able to feel that way again. It made me feel like I was similar, or exactly like everybody else.
I turned away from Vaughn to stare at the white wall, and I briefly thought how hard I would have to bang my head against it before I died.
Wait... I'm already dead, or at least I might as well be. What good is there to my life if I am going to be like this for—I don't even want to think about how long I could be like this!
I looked away from the wall and hung my head instead of taking that violent course of action.
I heard a sigh come from Vaughn, a very quiet one. I didn't even look back at him. Truthfully, I was actually hoping that he would go away so that I could be left with my contemplations.
He didn't move from his seat, instead he quietly said, replying back to my question I realized, "You're asking the wrong person that question. How would I know what that is?"
It made me glance at him, and his stony expression wasn't as strong as before. It had faltered, a least a little.
I let out my own sigh, feeling exhausted, "Maybe you're right... maybe you are the wrong person to be asking."
Once again, the silence took over in the room, extending far longer than it should have.
After what felt like an eternity went by, Vaughn finally said, using the same low tone as before, "I'm not use to this."
I slightly frowned, not understanding what he meant. He then continued, after seeing the slight confusion on my face most likely. "I'm not use to seeing you look so—vulnerable," he finished, though I felt like he wanted to use another word.
"What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
He blinked at me once, slightly staring, before he added, "I mean you always have that stupid look on your face. Nothing ever seemed to faze your carefree attitude, not even things that should have. I just don't understand how this can be any different."
Sometimes I think Vaughn can be a little too truthful at times. I usually don't mind his straight forward, although rude, comments. But, I think he went too far this time around.
I replied to him, being the last thing I wanted to say, to end the whole conversation, "There's a difference between being carefree and being like stone, Vaughn."
I looked away from him for the final time, leaving that one sentence in the air for him to interpret. To my relief, he took it as a sign for him to leave, as I saw him stood up from his seat from the corner of my eye. I heard the opening and closing of the hotel room not too long after.
I let my body fall back, my head hitting the soft cool pillow, before I closed my eyes. Sleeping wasn't an option, something impossible to do at the moment when multiply thoughts were buzzing around in my mind. Many of them I couldn't answer with an easy response... or even give one at all; anything to silence the constant and torturous agitation in my head.
I bought one hand to rest over my closed eyelids. It didn't lesson any of the pain within.
Vaughn's POV
I was standing in the lobby, not really going anywhere. It was a little difficult for me to focus when my mind was still occupied with what Denny said to me. That one sentence he said left me a little irritated, but mostly confused.
What he said to me had more meaning behind it then it should have, it had to. It wasn't that hard to understand what he meant, he was obviously referring to me when he said it.
I felt the line around my mouth tighten, something I didn't have control of that time.
"What would he know anyway?" I asked myself.
Shaking my head to get rid of the pestering thoughts and that odd feeling that felt like guilt, I took a step forward, planning to leave the Hotel. The sight of Dr. Trent talking to that annoying pop-star made me halt in my tracks, being only a few feet away from the front door.
She was sitting down in a chair by the door, while the doctor himself was standing. Dr. Trent face looked serious as he spoke to her in a quiet tone, while her face, a first for me, held worry, anxious even.
She just kept nodding her head at whatever Dr. Trent was telling her. Though her face looked like it would have a spasm at any given time; the anxiety on her face kept increasing with every nod she gave him.
Their conversation was finally over, as he gave her a small pat on her shoulder of sympathy before he turned away from her to return to his own room. I expected her to go back to Denny's room, but instead, she hung her head low, most of her hair covering her face.
I made my own obvious conclusion that whatever he said to her wasn't good, and that it would be best for me to leave.
As I was walking towards the door again, just about ready to leave, she spoke to me, stopping my actions. I let out a sigh, but I didn't say anything as I turned to face her.
Her expression didn't change; it still held that troubled look.
"You just left the room right?" she asked me as she pulled slightly at her dress.
I just nodded my head at her question.
"Well um... how was he when you left?"
I held back on the sigh I wanted to escape. I was hoping she wouldn't ask me.
"Not good. Probably more of a wreck then you are." She didn't even react to my words, not in the way I expected her; a little angry at me for commenting on her looks in the negative. Not even a glint of fury was seen in her eyes. That was when I thought about Dr. Trent and their conversation I didn't hear. "Why? What did he say?"
That bought a reaction out of her, making her pull at the hem of her dress harder, threatening to rip the fabric itself.
I was about to repeat the question, thinking that she wasn't going to reply to me, but she spoke up first.
"He told me about his... condition," she said in hesitation. I found it odd that she used the same word as Denny did to describe his fear. "He also said that I should keep an eye out for him."
That made me confused. "Why would he say that? What exactly does that mean?"
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. It looked like she was having a difficult time uttering the same words that Dr. Trent told her, whatever they were.
After she kept doing that for the next few seconds or more, attempting to talk and failing, she quietly said, barely above a thought, "He said that... he seemed almost suicidal... and that I should consider putting him under suicide watch."
My ears couldn't believe what they were hearing. Denny, under suicide watch?
It seems that it wasn't just Denny that was hit by something in the storm.
I shook my head at her in disbelief. "Denny is stupid, but not that stupid."
She didn't react negatively with that statement either. She glanced down, no longer looking at me. "Maybe..." she softly said.
Her eyes stayed that way for a while. I was about to try to leave again, but she spoke up again, asking, "Have you seen Chelsea?"
I felt my eye involuntarily twitch at the name. I managed to not hear her name throughout the day, and had the luck of not seeing her either. But even when I try to avoid hearing the name, let alone seeing her, she somehow pops up anyway; unwanted and uninvited.
"No," I said, my voice straining a little.
I hoped she wouldn't ask what I was thinking she would ask next, but the world wasn't that fair to me.
"I just... find it odd that she hasn't visit Denny, not once."
Even though something like that would be odd, I didn't budge from her borderline whining statement. "And? What does that have to do with me? Maybe she's just busy."
She shook her head, "Even so, she would just not do something like that. She would visit at least once. She hasn't at all for the past few days since Denny has been... sick."
"In the past few days?" I thought, almost repeating it aloud to her.
I decided to change the focus of the topic, a little. "What about that stupid rancher, Mark?"
She quietly sighed, "He told me he only sees her at the ranch in the morning. After that, she wanders off. He doesn't really talk to her much, I don't know the reasons."
I put that new information into the back of my mind, deciding to ponder about that later.
"I would go ask him to go search for her, but since he's not here at the moment and only you are..."
I glared at her, trying to see if she was doing this purposely, but I didn't see any deceit in her facial expressions. It held the same worried look as before.
I held my stare on her for a few more moments, waiting to see if she would falter even a little—nothing changed.
I finally gave up, letting out a defeated sigh. "Fine. I'll take a quick look around to see where she has gone to. But I'm only doing it because I just happen to be around, no other reason."
She didn't even let out a smile, just a small nod of understanding. "Thank y-"
"Please, don't."
She just gave me another nod, "Ok. I'm going to go see Denny and...we'll just see you later."
At that, she stood up from her seat and walked over to the door where Denny rested. I left the Hotel before she even went into the room.
Once outside, the air was colder then when I arrived. I could feel the effects of winter approaching. My breath could be seen a little in the air, the familiar cold fog forming. Lucky for me, winter doesn't bother me as much, like the summer didn't.
I shook my head as I thought about the 'task' I would have to do now.
"She's probably somewhere blaming herself for this nonsense... though it might be her fault."
I shook my head again. "Jeez, I'm actually beginning to believe in that stupid omen."
Pushing that thought aside, I decided not to waste any more time, taking long strides on the familiar path.
As I walked on the path, I thought about where I should look first. The ranch wasn't going to be one of them, since that rancher himself told Lanna that she 'wandered off'.
Without debating with myself too much, wasting even more precious time, I tried the Café.
She wasn't there at the end of my search, neither was she at the Diner (since they are right next door to one another).
While on the path, I looked towards her home, but I didn't see any lights illuminate from it, back or the front. It told me enough that she wasn't home.
I then turned my attention to the Jungle, looking across the bridge there. An annoyed sigh escaped me.
"The things I have to do..."
Before I could change my mind, I turned my feet to follow the path that would lead me to the Jungle. I don't remember seeing her when I asked jungle boy to look for Kuu, and he didn't mention seeing her himself, but maybe she showed up later and is there now.
I crossed the bridge and stuck to the very hard-to-see path. As I continued along, remembering things here and there so that I could backtrack when needed, I saw something white in the distance. I stood still, staring at it. It took me only a moment longer to realize that it was a white jacket. I let out a scoff, already guessing who it was.
"Might as well ask Mr. Rich Boy," I thought bitterly. Just thinking of asking for his help, or at least implying it, made me felt more annoyed then I already was.
With my long strides, it didn't take me long to reach him. He saw me as I stopped a few feet away from him. At the same time, I noticed he held a notebook in his hand while the other held a pencil.
The notebook looked oddly familiar to me, as if I seen it before.
Realization struck me as the answer came to me. It was the same notebook I saw in his room that day when he first arrived, when he gave us that tour... the one he closed before I could read any of it.
He must have realized it too, because he stopped writing in it, closed it, and held it behind his back, hiding it from my view.
He then gave me a small polite smile, though it looked forced to me, "Ah, Vaughn! How is your day?"
"I'm not in the mood for your useless side chatter. I'm just here to ask a question and then I'm gone."
He nodded once, "You may ask."
At least he got straight to the point and didn't try to be theatrical about it.
"Have you seen Chelsea?" I asked, swallowing a little of my pride down.
He gave me a slow nod in the affirmative. "She was here about an hour or so ago."
I think I just saw his eye wince, but the movement was gone before I could double-check if the action did happen.
"She looked troubled about something. I asked her if she wanted to have a peaceful lunch with me to try to ease her mind, maybe even talk about it. She told me to—leave her alone for the rest of the day."
I had to try really hard to not grin at his words. Seems to me that she didn't even try to buzz him off as kindly as she could.
I frowned a little as I thought it about it, as that would be another odd behavior of hers. She would usually try to be as nice as possible... maybe I should be a little concerned at this point.
Before I decided to leave, I looked at Will's hand, the one that was behind his back holding the notebook. "What's inside of that?" I asked him.
He smiled again, "I believe you said that you had a question. As far as I know, you have asked it."
I didn't have time to play words with him, so I turned away from him, but not before I muttered to him, "Smart-ass."
I didn't see his reaction, but I did hear a quick huff from behind me.
I left the Jungle with ease, now crossing the bridge. My eyes slowly drifted to the sky. Unlike the last time I was here, the sky was clear of any clouds, not one dark cloud lurked anywhere. It also had that orange-yellowish glow to it, indicating that it'll be dark in a few more hours. The air was still chilly, and it'll get colder later. I must have been at the Hotel longer then I thought.
"Better find her before it gets dark."
I continued on the path, trying to decide where to go next.
With only a few places left to go to, I decided to try the Forest next.
It didn't take me long to reach West Town again. As I crossed the entrance of beach, I thought I saw something red from the corner of my eye. I took a few steps back, being at the entrance of the beach again. I let out a sigh of relief, a breath I didn't even realize I was holding.
I didn't ponder about my actions, the meaning behind it; instead I took steps inside of the beach. As soon as I stepped one foot onto the sand, I looked toward Denny's shack without thinking. Despite it being in bad condition, prior to the storm, it was still standing. Looking at the shack reminded me of Denny's newfound fear of water.
"How is he going to live in that if it's near water?"
I stared at it for a little longer before I looked away, without arriving to an answer to my own question. Knowing Denny though, I'm sure he'll figure something out.
"Are you sure he'll even be the same?" my conscience asked me.
I didn't answer it.
To keep me occupied, I bought my eyes back to where Chelsea was standing. She was standing at the shoreline, but far enough that the water didn't touch her feet. Her focus was aimed at the ocean, just enough for her to see despite Will's yacht being there.
I shook my head, slightly wondering how long she has been standing there.
"Better get this over quick." I told myself.
I took another step, and then I suddenly stopped as something in her hand caught my attention. It made my whole body go stiff, frozen, as if winter had come and turned me into ice. My blood felt just as cold, and I felt the color drain from my face as well.
"What...is she going to do with that?"
In her hand was a very large knife. One of those knives that professional chef's use and it looked sharp as well as new.
Without her moving, the reflection of it glinted at me, as if it was smiling at me, daring me to take another step.
I had to force my eyes away from it to look back at Chelsea—her back was still to me.
"This can't be good."
A few ideas formed inside of my mind, actions I could take. I glanced at the hand that held it again, and her grip on it was tight. She definitively wasn't going to be using it for something good.
First Denny goes psycho, and now apparently, she is.
This just isn't my day.
"Maybe you can sneak behind her and grab it before she notices you?" my conscience suggested.
My eyes were still focused on the knife in her hand, not looking away or even blinking. I didn't want to miss any movements she could make.
I didn't really like the idea. Holding back someone that was kicking and flailing their arms wilding is different than trying to disarm someone with a weapon. And if I screw up...
I tried to think of something else to do, another course of action to take. But no matter how hard I tried too, none of them were any better, or would work at all.
I forced my body to unfreeze itself, and I began to take slow steps towards her, taking a few long strides to reach her a little quicker.
Each step I took towards her made me feel a little bolder then the last step I took. And to my relief, I wasn't too far from her- only a few more steps.
Then my damn foot hit a large seashell, one I didn't see in the sand.
It didn't hurt, but the noise was loud enough to grab her attention, as I saw her head turn to look at me.
I muttered a few curses under my breath.
She turned around completely to face me. I stood there, estimating how many more steps it would take me to reach her.
Too many still. A few too many.
I was, however, close enough that she could hear me.
"Chelsea... what the hell are you going to do with that?" I asked her as calmly as I could.
Her hand raised a little, and I saw her eyes shift to it. It looked like she just noticed it was in her hand, as if she was looking at it for the first time. I was about to take a small step forward, one that she might not notice, but she looked back up at me before I could... and she gave me a small smile. Her eyes though, betrayed her. I saw the overwhelming sadness in them. It made the panic I felt before come back.
Pushing that panic down, I took a small step towards her anyway.
"Put the damn knife down Chelsea, I'm warning you," I said, my voice hardening.
"I don't think threatening her is a good idea, and you should sound a little nicer." my conscience warned me.
Chelsea didn't listen to me, so I tried it again, but I didn't dare take another step this time.
"Put the knife down, please," I said, saying the last word with a strain.
That didn't work any better, as her grip just tighten even more around it.
I decided to try one last tactic.
"Denny's injury wasn't your fault. He was just being stupid for being out there."
I winced at my choice of words, but it was too late to take them back. It's a little hard for me to think straight at the moment.
The smile on her face seems to have widened, but just barely. However, she didn't let go of the knife, or even looked like she was about to put it down.
I was about to add on more to that last sentence, hoping that would make her put it down before she took any rash actions.
Her hand with the knife lifted up, quicker than I anticipated... and she was going to take action.
"Damn it!"
I took quick strides, trying to take just those last few steps (why do they seem so far still?).
I saw her swipe the knife across her—
I then stopped, her being only two steps away from me. The panic I felt subsided a little, though surprise took its place. I blinked my eyes at her, unsure how I should react.
"She...cut her hair?"(3)
The knife was swiped across her hair, not her neck like I thought where she was aiming; though they are very close together.
Her hair was now short, the ends of it surrounding her face a little more. The length just reaching the bottom of her chin.
I could then see the strands that she cut off be taken by the breeze, drifting off. I looked at them for a moment, seeing them being carried out to the sea, before I looked back at her.
What I saw made me felt like my heart had stopped beating, just for that moment. At the same time, I felt myself take in a large amount of air, and I didn't let it out.
She was crying.
Not the type of tears that held self-pity, not even pain... it felt different. To add on to my surprise, she still had that smile on her face.
I was taken even more aback when she spoke, although it was more shouting then talking.
"I can't help it anymore! I-I can't stand the pain anymore! Everyone is losing something valuable to them! All of my friends are losing things they love to do! Whether it's related to work, a talent, or even a hobby! And yet..."
I saw more tears fall down her face, but she continued anyway, and she was still smiling. "They can continue on with life, with smiles! Julia, she's so brave for not being ashamed, for not caring! Pierre smiles despite not being able to see Natalie! I-I've decided that I need to lose something important too! If they can continue with life, despite their losses, then so can I! I-I want to be free too!"
This gave me pause, it made me wonder if I knew her at all, if I really learned anything about her the whole time I have known her. I swear that every imaginative step I took back, away from her, she somehow takes two steps forward, just surprising me with something she does or says—and I still don't believe I know enough.
...maybe, just this once, I won't take a step back.
Chelsea's POV
I had already dropped the knife into the sand, shortly after I cut my hair. I lifted my hands and started to rub them, the tears, away, something I didn't mean to do in the first place.
Just as I finished wiping the last one away, I looked up to where Vaughn stood, him being only a few steps away from me. He still had that look of surprise on his face.
He suddenly blinked his eyes once, the look of surprise now gone. He then looked me over, a different expression taking over his face. One that I could not really understand, but I didn't feel nervous either.
His eyes finally met my own again, and he took the last two steps towards me, at a slow pace, until he was towering over me. I had to lift my head slightly to look up at him, to see his face.
I nearly gasped at the look in his eyes. They held... more of a sharpness to them, almost calculating, and it looked like there was calmness behind them too.
He slightly titled his head, as if he was studying me. I couldn't stop the change of color across my face, and I was sure it wasn't the cold that caused it.
Then I saw him lift one of his hands, and I watched it move to the side of my face. His hand then turned upward and the tip of his fingers, I realized, grazed at the ends of my now short hair. He focused his eyes on his actions, repeating it... I couldn't ask him what he was doing, although truthfully, I didn't mind it at all. I felt like I shouldn't ask. So instead, I let out a quiet sigh.
The feeling of guilt washed over me briefly, biting my bottom lip confirmed it.
"I'm sorry I worried you. I didn't mean to... I wasn't expecting anyone to bother me. You probably think that what I did was a little stupid."
He didn't stop what he was doing, neither did he look at me, but he did say, "It was stupid, Chelsea."
Before I had the chance to respond or look away, he continued, "I said it was stupid Chelsea, not that it was wrong."
I couldn't help but let out the small smile.
I heard him let out a sigh, and his fingers were still touching my hair. His gaze still intent on his actions.
"Maybe I will tell you," he said.
I slightly frowned, unsure what he was talking about.
"Tell me? About what?"
"What you have been bugging me about for the past season, Chelsea. Though, I probably won't need to, you're smart enough. You can figure it out."
I still didn't have the slightest clue to what he was talking about, and then I realized what it was; the festival, with what I saw.
He wasn't directly telling me that it was real, but it was a start, telling me that it wasn't an illusion.
It was good enough for me.
"I have your permission?" I asked him, to make sure he wouldn't change his mind.
He barely gave me a nod, and again, it was enough for me.
Even though his hand was so close to my face, it didn't touch my skin at all. I could feel a little warmth from his hand coming off of it, and a ghost-like touch, but there was no real contact.
I silently wished he would.
Before I could take my own actions, he spoke up again, "They're not the same."
"What's not the same?" Feeling baffled once again with his half thoughts being stated out loud.
The silence dragged on a little longer than before, making me feel a little nervous. He was still messing with my hair.
"Your...smiles. They're not the same anymore. They seem to be more forced, not genuine."
"Well... I know I said that I would smile more, trying to be cheerful. But it's kind of hard to when I think about those things. I really don't have a reason to smile about anything, not something that is happy anyway."
I saw his eyes blink once, his hand movements going slower, and the next words out of his mouth made my heart stop, "Then just do it for yourself."
What he said actually caused me to smile, wider then my other ones. I couldn't stop the extra moisture that developed in my eyes either. I tried to hold them back, I really did, but they came out anyway.
I let out a little laugh instead, though it came out like a soft sniffle.
His hand movements suddenly stopped and then he bought his gaze to me, looking at my whole face now. I thought he would be annoyed, maybe even frown a little for crying so much in one day. To my surprise, they still held that same calculating look, though he seemed to be deeper in thought, more so then before. I felt my face become a little hotter.
Before I could further ponder about his odd, although somewhat nice, behavior, I felt a different type of warmth on the left side of my face. It took me a moment to realize that he put his hand, an open palm, against my cheek. It took up half of my face, and I could feel the rough surface of his fingertips against my soft skin. I surprised myself when I realized that I was disappointed that I couldn't feel his whole hand, thanks to the gloves he wears.
I thought my heart was pumping hard enough already, oddly even doing backflips, till I felt his thumb move. The next breath didn't even leave my mouth, I held it in. His thumb had moved right under my eye, wiping away the tears I didn't get to wipe away myself.
He spoke again, his tone still as low as a whisper, "You should stop doing that. It's...annoying."
I didn't even respond, not with a nod or words. I just kept staring at him, my focus never leaving him, not even to blink. Not only that, I was trying to control my heart from beating so hard in my chest. The way he was acting was making me feel so much anxiety that I felt like I would faint.
I was so focused on controlling it that I didn't notice Vaughn's face was very close to my own face. He was so close that I could feel the hot breath from his nose hit me. I could feel a shiver was about to pass through me, and it was definitely not from the cold; it was difficult for me to hold it back. To add on to that, I felt like my stomach had something fluttering in it. No matter how hard I tried, it wouldn't stop and...
Without me noticing or even consenting to the action, my eyelids halfway closed, and my head began to feel light-headed. All I did was wait, wait for him to take that one tiny dive forward... and I wasn't going to protest, didn't even want to protest.
And then he stopped, making my eyes widen. His own eyes mirrored my own, though he looked confused and surprised, as if he didn't know what he was doing... was about to do, it was as if realization came to him. His eyebrows arched downward a little, frowning, though I wasn't sure if it was directed at me or at himself.
I then felt his thumb slightly press down hard, still being under my eye. It made me wince in pain, as it did hurt a little.
He must have noticed my discomfort, because he quickly pulled his hand away from the side of my face, as if I burned him. I saw his hand go to his face, but he turned away from me before I could see what he was doing.
I missed the warmth that was there, that he provided. I had to try really hard, with every part of me, to contain the disappointment I felt; I wanted to sigh so badly.
Although, I thought I saw the tip of his ears turn a little pink... but it could have been the cold. Also, I could hear a little muttering coming from him, but he was talking too low for me to hear his words.
The feeling I had was gone now, the fluttering in my stomach becoming nothing but a memory, while the heartbeats went back to normal, no longer erratic.
Sometimes Vaughn is so...confusing. All he ever does is confuse me. I had to hold back another sigh, one of borderline frustration.
"We should probably go inside, it's getting cold out...you felt a little cold," he finally said, I guess to break the silence. It was hard for me to determine if his tone was shaky or not, since I couldn't even see his face.
I didn't answer, just stared at his back, mostly focused on his hat. Before the familiar and uncomfortable silence could take place again, I said, surprising myself that I could manage to talk calmly and evenly, "Can I ask you something Vaughn, a favor?"
He didn't turn to face me, not that I expected him to. "Go ahead and ask," he said, his tone just as even I realized this time.
"Can you remember what I was like when I first arrived here?"
He slightly turned his head, not enough for me to see the side of his face, but enough to let me know he was listening. "I don't get what you're saying."
"I mean...tell me what you thought of me when I first arrived. Honestly."
"Honestly? I don't think you want me to be honest..."
"No, I do want you to be, right now. Tell me."
I heard him let out a sigh, and he still didn't turn to face me. "Well...I thought you were possibly an airhead, bubbly, too talkative, annoying, another lazy person from the city possibly, person that easily—"
"Okay now, I get it," I said, feeling like my eye would twitch.
Well, he's back to normal.
"Why are you asking?"
"Well...I just want you to remember that is all. That—part of me."
Even though I wasn't facing him, I could easily imagine his eyebrows arching in a certain angle, conveying confusion.
Although I made a promise to myself to smile more often, it has made me realized that I will have to be a different person too. I can't continue being the same as I am now, not if I want to stay here and figure things out. If I continue being the way I am now, almost naive, I will never be able to figure out what's going on—why it's happening to me. I won't be able to help my friends.
I will have to let go of my past self, and create a new one...even if it means losing a part of myself, the part that makes me me. I can no longer be weak. I will no longer be weak.
"Maybe, it's for the best." I told myself, reassuring myself that I am making the right choice, squashing any doubts.
"I hope you know what you're doing," Vaughn said, waking me up from my internal conflict.
I slightly frowned at his words. The way he said it, it felt like he understood what I was doing, what I am about to do.
It took me another moment to realize that he did understand, at least to me he did. It also made me realize that he wasn't arguing with me about my decision either. The idea made me smile, just a little.
"Thank you Vaughn."
He just shook his head. "Let's just go inside...I only came out to find you 'cause Lanna was worried about your whereabouts, especially since you haven't seen Denny at all."
I nodded my head in agreement, "I will go see him now."
Without wasting any more time, I walked ahead, going past Vaughn. And for some reason, I wanted to look back, at him, to see his face. But I internally shook the feeling away, still walking leisurely. As I walked, I could hear another pair of feet shuffling the sand, following me. Inside, I was smiling.
As I continued to walk, I took my red bandanna off of my head and loosely tied it around my neck, no longer needing it to hold back my hair.
The walk was silent, as expected...at least till a strange thought came to me; ideas that appeared as I thought about Vaughn's words of understanding more and more.
"I wonder...is that what I saw within Vaughn?"
Maybe Vaughn understands...because he has done it himself.
The more I thought about what I saw at the festival that time, the more I connected it to what I was about to do.
"Maybe the reason I saw another Vaughn was because it is another side of him that he pushed back, locked away." I mused to myself.
I wanted to turn around to ask Vaughn, but I resisted upon acting. If I did ask him, he would most likely not answer me, or maybe even deny it. Instead, I decided to agree with my thoughts.
"So, if I do the same thing as him...will I end up like Vaughn?" I asked myself.
I tried to come up with an answer for the question. But no answer came, not even when we reached the front of the Hotel.
"I don't know, maybe I won't...or maybe I will," the only answer I could tell myself, one that still held a little doubt behind it.
I opened the door and walked inside, with Vaughn still following behind me, staying behind me the whole time I noticed.
"He's in that room," he said, as I saw his hand raise and point to a door.
As I headed to the door, another thought came to me, one that made me want to pursue the answer—even if it would take a long time to get it.
"If that is true about Vaughn, I would like to know that side of him too...very much."
Sabrina's POV
I turned from my seat at the table as I heard the door open. The one that walked in, I barely recognized her, I had to do a double take to make sure I was right.
"Chelsea?"
But...she looked different. Her hair for one was shorter, much shorter. Since her hair was shorter, the red bandanna that she always wore was now wrapped around her neck instead of holding her hair back.
Although, that wasn't all that seemed to change about her. There was—something else about her that seemed to have changed, her demeanor, possibly.
As I looked at her, I noticed that something—did change. Her eyes, for one, the expression behind them seemed to have changed a little. Usually when I see her, I see a variety of emotions, very similar to Mark's when he's happy; full of any type of emotion, happiness mostly, almost expecting a bright smile to follow behind it. But this time...something was lacking, there was something missing, not just appearance wise.
She had walked past me, only acknowledging me enough by sending a small smile my way before she approached the bed where Denny sat up; Lanna was also sitting at the edge of the bed. I didn't have the chance to see more, to see if I was imagining it or not.
Although, the second person that came in sent those confusing thoughts to the back of my mind, making me forget for the time being. Just looking at him made me nervous, making me unconsciously grip the letter in my hand tightly.
He closed the door behind him and stayed standing by the door...though his attention was focused intently on someone. I also noticed that his face seemed more—relaxed. His signature frown was there, but it didn't give the same feeling as it usually did—to not bother him. No...it felt different, too.
Denny's voice made me bring my attention towards the bed, "Hey Chelsea. You seem—different."
I saw her smile at him, just the corner of her mouth lifting, "Yeah, I cut my hair, if that is what you mean."
I saw him frown a little, a first for me to see on his face. His facial features are usually loose, showing his laid-back personality. Although it held a little confusion too.
He stared at her for a few more seconds, and it looked like he wanted to say something, make a comment, but changed his mind in the end. His frown loosened too. "Yeah. I guess it was just that. It looks nice."
"Thank you," she said with a slow nod. "And how are you feeling?"
"Besides the bruises and the thought that I will never be able to be near water again because of some phobia...just great."
His sentence was missing the sarcastic tone to it; more misery was aligned in it than anything else.
I brought my attention away from them to Vaughn, while they continued to talk quietly in the background.
"I better ask him now, before I faint from my own nervousness."
I quietly stood up from my seat and took hesitant steps towards him, sometimes his height intimidated me; I was very short compared to him.
I managed to stand by him, his attention still focused on them.
"Or just on one," my conscience uttered.
I didn't want to prove it right or wrong, so I ignored it instead.
I loosened my grip on the envelope I held in my hand, but they still felt a little sweaty.
"Um...Vaughn?" I stuttered a little, to get his attention.
He continued to stare at them for a few more moments before he turned his head slightly to look at me. "Yeah?" he said just above a whisper.
I had to hold back on the frown I wanted to make, finding his tone odd. I never heard him speak that low before. I decided to think about it later.
"Well uh...I just wanted to give you this. Uh, you know, the usual. Tomorrow?"
I saw him eye the white envelope in my hand, the invitation, before he lifted his hand and gently tucked it out of my hand—since I was stuck to the spot somehow, unmoving.
He didn't even open it or reply to me. His eyes went right back to where they were, staring, not blinking at all.
My conscience's statement from before resurfaced, even though I wanted to block it out.
Curiosity got the best of me, or rather I was being forced to look to ease my conscience statement—possibly even myself.
I followed his line of vision, and his focus was in the area where Denny, Lanna, and Chelsea were. I kept looking between him and them, still tracking where his attention was held.
I wanted to believe that he was looking at them all—but I would just be fooling myself. I could tell, almost feel it subconsciously, that he was just looking at one person. There was no need for any evidence to prove who.
My own face loosened, making me wonder about many things.
"Now is not the time," I told myself.
It took a lot of my energy to bring my facial features back to normal, and to look back at Vaughn. He was still staring.
"Will you be able to come?" I asked him again.
He didn't even look at me when he said, in that same low voice, "I'll think about it. So, maybe."
I nodded my head at him once, not commenting on his answer, out loud anyway.
I turned to where the trio was and quietly said my goodbyes before I left.
I stared back at the mirror, something I have been doing for at least the past hour, trying to come to my own decision.
I lifted one of my hands and tenderly stroked my hair, my long hair. My other hand held a pair of scissors, and I felt it shake nervously.
For the past hour, I was thinking about why Vaughn was like that, staring at her.
The only conclusion I could come up with, was that it had something to do with her hair. Was it the length? The way she now looked with it cut short? Was there some meaning behind it?
I didn't know.
With so many ideas and questions going through my head, it was hard for me to think. But, in the end, I just concluded that he possibly has a liking for short hair.
And that is how I found myself to be in this situation.
A light tap on the closed bathroom door, coming from the other side, took me out of my silent problem.
"Sabrina? Is everything alright in there? You have been inside for quite some time now," my father said from the other side, though it was missing the concern behind it.
Even when he should be worried, he still manages to try to keep up with appearances.
"I am fine father, I assure you. I am just—taking my time."
"If you say so. Don't tire yourself out though."
He then left, his sharp footsteps echoing outside the door.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror again, and I carefully lifted my shaking hand towards my hair; the scissors open and in position.
"Just a quick snip and it'll be over. I will not even feel a thing—in fact it is painless."
I thought telling myself that would lessen the nervous shaking in my hand, but it didn't. Instead, my hand began to feel very warm, beginning to sweat.
My other hand was gripped to my hair, a large piece of it, to keep it in place. I gripped it harder, hoping it would eliminate the uneasy feeling in my other hand—it didn't.
I forced my fingers to slightly close the scissors. If I closed it just a little more, it would cut off a large chunk of my hair.
I swear my hand felt like it became a vibrator. It just would not steady itself.
With a sigh, my hand still shaking a little, I dropped the scissors, and it fell into the sink; the metal part making a clinking sound. Using that same shaky hand, I silently stroked my hair, though I felt disappointment pass through me.
"I couldn't even do it...how am I supposed to..."
Why...can't I be looked at in the same way?
Vaughn's POV
Tonight, it was different.
It started the same, with the brittle and dry grass along with the familiar Harvest Goddess Lake, and the unnatural darkness. This time, when I approached the lake, she was already sinking within it. However, unlike the many other times I had this dream, she wasn't struggling.
Her eyes were closed, her arms by her side, it was as if she was at peace with herself, and she would continue to sink further into the eternal darkness; although it looked like she was falling at a slower pace. She wasn't fighting the inevitable.
She didn't struggle.
She didn't fight for air.
She didn't try opening her mouth, to call for help.
She gave in to the cold watery tomb, sinking deeper.
And that...was troubling me.
TO BE CONTINUED…
AUTHOR'S COMMENTS/NOTES
(1) Fishing god: Based on an event concerning Denny, he does mention the Fishing god quite a few times in the game. I don't know if he believes in the Harvest God(dess), but he does believe in the Fishing god. To me, it was natural for him to be praying to the FG.
(2) Prescription: Truthfully, I'm not sure if there is a drug for phobia's of any kind. However, since some phobias are eerily similar to having, or basically are, anxiety/panic attacks, there should be special type of prescriptions for such a thing- just not for a particular phobia. So, since I didn't feel like doing research on this topic, I'm only taking an intelligent guess here.
(3) ...cut her hair: For those of you that don't understand the meaning behind it, this is what I have read on the topic online, "Because it's a Japanese tradition, when a girl decides to change, she cuts her hair as a symbol of her choice." Funny, I found it while watching a YouTube video for a game. I didn't get to go to the library to read on it, but here are some references that you might recognize- from a few media(s).
- Final Fantasy IX: If you are a gamer, in this game, one of the characters cuts her hair as a promise to herself that she would still be the 'same' no matter what happens to herself (she would change for the better, for her kingdom). The character was Garnet, Princess Garnet (AKA Dagger later in the game).
- Naruto: If you have ever heard of the manga/anime series, I'm sure you remember the scene concerning Sakura, when she cut her hair. Her promise, if I remember correctly, was to no longer be weak/a burden towards her team. I understand that Ino cut her hair as well, but she cut her hair under different circumstances and more because of...scorn, not for herself. If you look at the Naruto Shippuden series, notice that Sakura has kept her hair short, telling those around her, and herself, that she plans to keep that promise. While Ino, on the other hand, grew her hair back.
Even if you don't focus on Japanese culture, and focus on the concept itself and/or other cultures- many women don't cut their hair for various reasons. Something a friend of mine said to me once was (not in exact words), "A woman's hair is like her crown. She wears it proudly and takes care of it with pride. If she doesn't take care of it or even cuts it, she has lost her crown. Just like a queen, if she loses it, it had to be for a good reason." Well...maybe she was on to something...or we seriously think too much due to boredom.
[POLL IS STILL UP!] *Sighs* I could have put this up a few days ago, but you know, life keeps me busy most of the time. Actually, you could have had this on December 1st, but thanks to an incident concerning my new-ish laptop that is only a few months old, it made me lose 45k (45,000) words. Yes, you read that right. It lost 45,000 words—forty-five thousand words—gone. Not 1,000, not 5,000, heck, not even 10,000 words—45,000 words. I ranted about it in my LiveJournal, and I don't want that feeling of rage to come back to me right now...believe me, I still have the urge to break it myself and then go bother someone else in a very-not-nice way—purposely. And yeah, it happened in November- during NaNoWriMo- something I have done for years now...not fun. Hmph. Anyway, despite me rewriting this chapter, this was one of the chapters I was looking forward to writing—doesn't mean I enjoyed writing it over, but whatever.
Moving on, yes, Vaughn did not take action, he did not take that 'final' step. And ugh, this chapter makes me feel all fluffy, it's too much for me to take! Seriously, I think I made him a little too sappy, maybe, I don't know. Ugh, he's hard to deal with sometimes, he-no-listen to me anymore! It's like, he does whatever he wants now! He does not follow the script I gave him (*rageface*)! He was supposed to do something else, but it didn't work out- or rather he didn't want to do it. Anyway, for those of you that expected it, just hang on a little longer, especially for the Winter chapters. As this was the last chapter for Fall.
As for Chelsea's new look, if you are having a hard time imagining what she looks like with short hair—think of Sara (Sarah) from Harvest Moon 3. Seriously, Chelsea is like a replica of her. I mean, whoa, she looks exactly like her. Bandana and all- it's kind of creepy...
As for Denny, yeah, I didn't give him major bruises purposely. I didn't want him damaged physically, no, I wanted him damaged mentally. If you are surprised with him cursing a little, minor ones like 'damn' and 'hell', well, he's not exactly beside himself. His mind is out of it, therefore, his personality would be out of whack too. With him being in the state that he is in, Vaughn will no longer be getting advice from him or have those moments where he is being supportive. No more free rides for him. Denny himself will most likely not be the same, for quite some time. He's going to not be the happy optimistic guy that you know and love. He'll be...depressing, mostly. Not a Vaughn depressing either, just depressing. Although, since I have to rewrite stuff again... Anyway, for those of you curious about Kuu...well, you'll just have to wait and see concerning him. Oh yes, and the last chapter was supposed to be a dream for Denny. So that explains his sudden awakening. And yes, it did have something to do with triggering his fear of water now, at least one of things that did it. As for the red he saw in Dr. Trent's hand—what do you think it was? If the cup was clear, and there was nothing but water inside of it—what could it have been that he saw through his eye, or rather, in his mind?
Beginning next chapter, Winter begins. And a lot of stuff happens in winter. Examples? Well, there is (not in any particular order); Shea's Birthday, Sabrina's Birthday, Mark's Birthday, Winter Thanksgiving (really is Valentine's Day; girls give to boys xP), Starry Night Festival/dinner, something concerning Will and Vaughn (quite a few chapters that one will be most likely be), Vaughn and Chelsea blah blah some other bad junk happens and...oh yeah, one more filler, being the last one of the bunch. Might have forgotten to mention one or two things, but I think I should keep them to myself. Although, if it wasn't for my laptop being retarded, you would have read quite a few of these already.
What else? Right, once again, I am set back. This time, it was because of a stupid thing that happened with my laptop, setting me back to this chapter instead of being way ahead. I could have been really close to finishing this story, but again, I am set back. Jeez, this bad luck with laptops needs to stop- seriously... And...this story is officially three years old, back in September anyway. Most likely I won't have this done by the end of December or even January like I hoped (could have been though)...maybe before summer comes along though—hopefully. I have to rewrite those...now ~34,000 words again, try to gain them back. *Sigh* stupid laptop...!
As for that comment in the beginning of the chapter, seriously, what is that? I don't want that thing there, it's an eyesore. Seriously, it's a distraction to my eyes, whether I am reading and/or reviewing my own stuff. If I wanted to share whatever I was reading, I would email it to that person, not tweet it. I think some people have gone overboard with it. Well, at least I can AdBlock it. That is all for now, until next time!
THANK YOU ALL FOR REVIEWING (And to those that read anonymously)!
*I need to seriously put a little time on the side to read and reply to all reviews that I have received. I will get them…eventually.
