untangling the messy structures - Part 1

Your past is always your past.

Even if you forget it, it remembers you.

― Sarah Dessen

Slowly, I somehow tear my eyes away from Alister and turn around to see Charlie watching the entire exchange with an unreadable stare. As if he was on constant alert, ready to intervene at any moment, if necessary. With some unsteadiness, I inhale deeper, needing his presence but knowing that some battles, were only meant for me. There was no room for guardian angles or small blessings this time around, only for this mangled-up, tattered soul of mine.

Do you mind giving us a moment?

I ask, too cold on the inside to make the words sound gentle. He gazes at the man in the dark coat with his rather bored expression that seems to lack in any form of interest or emotion, and then slowly back at me, his fingers rolling into tight fists. I nod at him.

It's okay. I'll be fine.

It doesn't seem like he's going to move anytime soon, so I point to his watch, focusing on logic and all the mundane things that I could still conjure up into life, despite the surreal situation we were in. Sometimes she thought it was a miracle and quite an achievement that she wasn't a drooling, straightjacket mess yet. Then again, it was probably just a matter of time. If the supernatural wasn't going to end her, then some mental state institution should do the trick.

Your break ended some time ago. You know you need to go.

The last words come out as a whisper, as my own fists tighten as well, mirroring his. I mouths please at him, and he looks down at my clenched hands for a moment and then nods shortly.

Alright, but I'll be around if you need me.

She knows the words aren't only meant for her, but also for the man that observes their little exchange, his irritation finally visible, the tension almost touchable around the three of them. I nod once more in reply, and hesitantly, he leaves. It makes me exhale both in relief and sadness. Oh, how she wished he could stay.

Such pathetic, little interactions. So dramatic and time-consuming. There are better things to do with your life, you know? Especially, when the time for some is particularly limited.

I look up at him, eyes narrowing slightly, things in me slowly hardening and becoming almost concrete-like structures.

Well. Then let's agree that I like the pathetic side of things. Some human cockroaches are like that. You shouldn't be surprised.

Mmm.

He tilts his head a bit and then walks closer to me, standing just a few feet away. I try not to think about how his near presence makes me feel. Nausea and the tramble of my muscles becoming louder, all of the symptoms suddenly increasing. He caused it. He was the illness itself. The whispers in my head, whimpering and at the same time reacting eagerly to his closeness. Like dogs with vengeful owners that treated them like shit but that still longed for their company. I can feel nausea spread and put a hand over my mouth, and he gives me a pitiful stare.

Don't worry; it usually subsides after a while. Animals of your kind tend to be rather

sensitive.

A low growl escapes my mouth as I straighten my back, the unexpected anger in me somehow calming down the symptoms. And damn, it felt good. So good to replace the illness with blazing things. So many blazing things.

You must remember, Eleonore. Your time is running out.

He smiles at me as his breath tickles my skin. He smells like cigar smoke, sandalwood, and ash. The smell is dangerously appealing, even if it also brings fear with it. The feeling of the independent doom filling the air and scraping at the throat as my lungs expand with power.

Each grain of the black sand tumbling down inside the hourglass that I hold in my hands. No use in fighting it.

I swallow and close my eyes, Alister's presence seeming to blur out everything around, reminding me of a snake that enthralls you slowly before going for the kill. Its venom slowly paralyzing every nerve in your body. Until you are just a useless toy, a future meal to the predator. Despite my head spinning, I take a few inches back and gaze up at him. His frame is tall but not as tall as Charlie's - a small fact that gives me a slight hint of satisfaction, and strangely enough, some courage as well. My pale grey eyes open wider as I try not to sink into that captivating but ruthless stare, the eyes so dark brown as if they were made of coal.

If you have it, then why should it really matter? It will eventually run out on its own, won't it?

His eyes narrow at me as he takes a step back, his energy heavy and thick. Destructive. Almost like the invisible smoke from the nightmares that still danced around my lungs. Becoming reality every time my body would beg for rest, the horror imprinted in shades of blue, lavender, and soft pinks under the tired eyelids. Forever tattooed into my hazy brain. Memories too vivid, too alive, the visions of the shadows slowly suffocating the life out of me, just before snapping a weak neck, the crunching sounds still echoing in my ears. Too real. I feel the hair on my arms stand up, and I stagger a bit back, noticing him nod with traces of satisfaction of his own. Yes, this behavior he was used to. The only behavior he approved.

Yes, it will. Like all mortal things, they usually fade out into oblivion.

Once more, he takes a few steps forward and lays a hand lightly on my waist, leaning in as if for a kiss. The nausea returns, the voices humming under the skull, touching and licking my veins with willingness, the fluorescent lamps above my head buzzing and threatening the brain to explode as I shield my eyes with one hand. Sickeningly aware of the grip on the waist becoming tighter as he whispers.

I'm not a patient man, beloved. I have never been, and the many endless decades spent in this rottening place that you call home had not made me any better. Count your life in days and no longer years. It's a piece of fair advice. Use it.

He whispers into my ear as his embrace around me leaves traces that speak of tenderness to everyone that passes us by but does not match the cruel smile that sticks to his lips. I sense the corners of his mouth lifted even as my eyes remain closed. My body wants to tremble, yet it is unable to move even by an inch as his presence looms over me. Sticky molasses, gasoline, and traces of brimstone, waiting for a match. Finally, he lets go of me and moves away gradually.

For a while, I still struggle to function right. Then suddenly, my lungs call for air, causing me to inhale deeper and cough. Hell lacks oxygen and good manners. I open my eyes and spin around, just at the right moment to see his silhouette disappear at the end of the hallway. On slightly shaky legs, I head in the opposite direction. Hands grabbing onto the counter as I move forward. A safe place. That was all she could think of. Just find a safe place to rest. For now, you don't have to think of anything else.

_______

I knock on the frame of the open door lightly. Watching calmly as she scribbles something in a notebook, head moving slowly to an unknown rhythm, earbuds visible in the exposed ears, her hair pulled up high in a messy bun of light brown hair.

Hey, do you mind me crashing here for a little while?

I cross my arms tightly, feeling chilled to the bone constantly since Alister left the hospital, his shadow still somehow attached to the structure of my skin. My stare follows her as she looks up, distracted, pulling out an earbud and gazing at me questioningly. I shake my head slowly and start to back away, suddenly feeling too tired for any tiresome interactions.

No, stay. Come on.

I turn around and look down at her as she pets the bed a few times. I exhale slowly and try to smile as I walk over and sit next to her. She points to my shoes.

Take those off; you look like you need a bit of a breather.

I look at her for a while but don't protest and do as told. She nods satisfied, and I lay on my side at the edge of the mattress, trying to take as little space as possible as she scoots over, making some extra room for me.

Mmm, do you think the hospital rules allow such horrendous activities?

I ask tiredly but with traces of a smile, and she shrugs her shoulders a bit.

I will just tell anyone that asks that you're family. Not a problem.

Morgan gazes at me with a calm stare and then returns to her notebook just before my mind takes in what she said exactly. A mix of complicated emotions, coloring my face. Surprise, shock, tenderness, sensations too overwhelming to even process. That you're family. A few little words. And yet, they manage to cause some of the chunks of ice in me to crumble. I almost see them falling to the ground, and melting into tiny puddles under her bed.

Thank you.

Mmm.

She makes a distracted sound and hands me one of the earbuds. I lift an eyebrow but put it in, soft piano music filling my ears.

Beethoven - Piano Sonata No. 8. Calming, soft, magical. Very soothing for the mind, I would say.

My eyes close slowly, and I sink into the music. For the first time in a long while sensing a shred of peace in my veins. My eyelids only speaking of blue, lavender, and the subtle pinks and with nothing else. I drift off to sleep before I can even notice, my body becoming deliciously heavy and finally giving in to rest. Maybe a little heaven on earth did exist after all.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1FP7NosLxkw

(Beethoven - Piano Sonata No. 8.)

______

After about 2 hours of blessed sleep, I wake up groggy and confused on the hospital bed. Watching Morgan's back slouched forward as she sits on the very end of the mattress with her legs crossed and writes down something in her notebook. My eyebrows furrow as just a few moments later, she starts to cough, first just sporadically and then with more force. Shoulder blades visible under the material of her long-sleeved, purple cotton shirt. My concern grows as she is unable to catch the air properly into her lungs. I sit up, still a bit stiff from sleep, and automatically reach for her back and rub the upper part of it.

Hey, hey, hey. You okay there? Alright, easy now, just try to slow down the breathing.

I pet her back a couple of times, then soothe it by moving my hand in wide, slow circles. And then I repeat. Eventually, she manages to catch some oxygen but still chokes a bit, her cheeks wet as she turns around to look at me.

I'm okay, it's fine. Just not all drugs go too awesome with a fucked up immune system and lungs with a slightly turbulent history and a possible expiration date. You know?

I furrow my eyebrows with worry but nod a few times, knowing that if she's anything like me, she will not want to get into the details.

Oh, all too well. It's not as much fun as everyone states to be run down daily by a bulldozer and a wracking ball in one. I blame bad commercial ads.

I shift slightly and slip my legs down, sitting there for a moment before I put my shoes back on, checking if all systems work in a more or less decent way. I didn't want to stand up and fall to the ground like a useless raggedy doll. I was exhausted by all my weaknesses being on display for everyone to see. Gradually, I get up, and despite my introverted self, ask anyway.

Are you going to be alright now, or should I call someone just to make sure?

She sighs and wraps her arms around her torso as if fighting some invisible wind.

No, I will be fine. If anything is truly out of order, one of the nurses will check up on me. I believe Joan has her shift on me today. Plus, mom is around, once again checking off a long list of all my health quirks with the doctor. I swear, sometimes I wonder if she actually enjoys doing that. I think it calms her down to have everything on paper.

I nod a few times, taking it all in for a while, and then slip a hand into my pocket and look around for any holy grail that I might find. I smile and slip something into her hand. She looks at it with raised eyebrows. I just shrug.

Five bucks?

I heard the nurses are nicer with delicate encouragement.

Nor, I don't need...

No, no, just in case. Once you get famous and irreplaceable in the artistic world, I will make sure to come for my share of the deal.

You're impossible.

Her tone is meant to be disapproving, but I hear her smile as I walk up to the door.

Nor?

Yeah?

I turn around and gaze at her.

Your male nurse was looking for you.

And?

And we both enjoyed the full display of drull and groans while you were sleeping.

Morgan.

I say, slightly agitated.

Relax. He was just looking for you and made sure to tell you that he would be waiting next to the entry to the hospital at around 3 o'clock. If you will be awake, of course. He said he's up for lunch outside the old walls.

I lift my eyebrows a bit.

Okay, noted. And thanks for letting me crash with you.

No problem.

She nods, making it quite visible that she wants to be alone now, and I give her the space, my mind already downstairs with Charlie. I think he might have something to share with me too. I guess we all had a past beneath the smooth surface layers that we displayed to others.

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https://theprose.com/post/230936/with-all-my-senses ( the beginning )

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Previous chapters :

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44. https://theprose.com/post/444836/eventually-everything-resurfaces

45. https://theprose.com/post/451637/things-that-find-their-way-to-the-shore

46. https://theprose.com/post/460038/the-shadows-that-still-lurk-under-our-feet

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