The rain paints the ground with a sense of unknowing ease as the dim lights of the street seem to keep their golden paint spilling out of the canisters that produce the very light that they all cling to. The endless sensation of the humid air seemed to dance over the tree creating the echoes that would splash across the face of so many cars that would rush down the path before them. The scent of the rain just spilled into the air as fast as the drops plastered the ground in their own hopes of gripping and bringing forth the life that had been placed before them. Only for them to touch onto the endless asphalt and twisting cement. The red neon glow of the hospital seemed to cut crudely into the rain, causing the distortion of light around its normally casually written words. Designed to help those lost, or needing such services.
The area around it seemed to fall into the same theme, corporations that suited the needed grip of this loud road, though warped with their own designs as they were all part of the same older age, showing the reality that the striking power of the many who tried to stand before this cascading rip in the sky. The people walked, each one with umbrellas that shielded them from the massive onslaught while others chose to be baptized in the waves that fell so consistently from the air. The clouds moved, catching the light before it could come down. The moonlight could barely let a slight glow in the weaker parts of the overhead blanket that wouldn’t release its endless barrage of painted tears.
The silver-white lights from the hospital windows poured out into this torrent, adding to yet another distortion that this hospital added to the landscape. The nearby stores had to almost compete with it, as the sounds of the vehicles pulled into the nearby parking lot that was clearly a sort of gathering pool for those who waited to help out anyone in need or to visit those who they held dearly to their hearts.
The nurses rush out and in, clearly without having much in terms of their wants, their sort of lost sense of self into this wave of endless injuries in their minds. Always understaffed, it was visible on their faces, and most seemed to be grabbing their way into the very stores that hoped to cling to the next moment like using a life support to warp the reality around them.
A grand window on the 3rd floor of the hospital had its own hallway. Showing the reflective clean marble-like floors. The disinfected white that held to its halls and even the very seats and magazines seemed to hold to the various health and safety, though there is the odd black and red magazine near the third bench down the way that seemed to bite into the area, tearing out its own independence from the standard whites, blue and greens that were placed so obviously about to help with the more positive outlook the staff tried to place for those waiting.
A few of the doors have lights, the soft yellow-like hue in some holding a dear warmth that for so many usually meant the last sort of life they would even have a moment to feel in their passing moments. This floor echoed out the twists as the watching ceiling cams did their best to look and protect what they could within these halls. And some even rested in the rooms, hoping to keep track of those who can’t protect themselves, lost in the endless sleep that seems to hold them dear.
One step. A silent echo that is ripping into the serene-like silence that holds to the hall itself. The lights shift as if trying to run astray from the area, the shadows shift and move as the cameras don’t seem to move much more as they pivot their view, detailing these odd shifts without their knowing eyes even having a moment of reprise, or notice. The silence that holds has begun to scream in the room numbered 304.
A male rested in the bed, tall 6’1”, he was covered with the standard white sheets that waved over his body like a protective seal. Hooked up to the very machines that held him to this world, the scars that rested across his body seemed to have healed but the long black hair that was from him being in a coma for the past 15 years seemed to be lightly maintained. The window held a potted plant that was filled with fresh flowers, an opposing feel in this area that felt with so much doubt that he would ever wake. The air shifting itself though, the seeming light that ripped into the air was being affected by what felt like something extraordinary. The shadows still ripped in elongated form, reaching out from the abyss as they tried to hold onto the very body of the person before them, to hold the door close, to wrap around and give him a warmth that the light seemed to promise with falsehood. His pale skin, blessed with the light as his own tattoos and rune-like writing seemed to glow more, pushing against the abyss and the haunting holdings that resided near only him. The two lights outside his room door, near the number 304 flickered as the seat near his bed turned.
There she was.
“Sorry, I’m late.” Her voice tore the area apart as if the shadows themselves moved and pushed back the light. Her icy blue gaze cut the very air in half as she looked down at the body before her. Her own tattoos seemingly meet the pulse of the man before her. His beard it seemed had grown and she looked around while in the chair. Her plump lips pursing in thought. Her long hair cut the very area itself by her own presence. The Black to blue-like ombre hair was long and drifting in the shadows, twisting the very veil of reality as she watched around the area. The lights protested, flickering in what felt like a rage as the light singing noise of the camera in the room told her that the camera didn’t survive her this time. She wasn’t in a hoodie this time, as her body was in a light crop top workout shirt, there were blood stains on it, and bruises that seemed to dart on her body, a sort of falsity. Her own form slowly recovering.
“I promise this time, it was because of a stupid person, and not because I was trying to find something to do outside waiting for when I could come to see you again.” She added in, her voice is sincere but lost, almost as though her own words were being taken from her very lips and warped. “I got a message today." She states with a pause, looking for confirmation, as she watches him. The darkness danced around him as though it too was waiting for a response. Waiting for him to wake from the nightmare or dream he was stuck in for these past 15 years. Her black nails tinted with a red gloss color moved to touch the nearby flowers as she pivoted the chair she was on. Her torn black jeans and boots were on. The door was closed to this room, as the lights outside kept their on-and-off flicker.
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“They want me to go to Miami.” She finally spoke, the silence no longer a deafening wave, but being crashed into by her own words. Glaring through the protruded darkness. “I honestly don’t want to. But I have to listen to them.” She states with a sort of somber reality. She looks outside to the rain. Waiting for a few moments, her makeup seemed to drip down the sides of her face like some sort of woman who had been crying. She hadn’t, her eyes watched, and took in the scene.
“It’s raining outside, the type you liked.” She smirked as she watched it carefully. Holding her gaze, not looking at the man inside the room with her, as the shadows seemed to move the blankets themselves around him as if holding him in an embrace.
Her abs contort a bit as she moves to the flowers once more with her hands. Lightly touching and moving the flower pedals with a sort of grace that comes from perfect movement, though she holds a slight hesitation as she does. She turns to look at him, her face pale with the perfect thin eyebrows as she looks at him. The shared glow of their tattoo’s glowing in perfect unison. “I bet Christine would have loved seeing this too huh?” She says as she smiles at him, her own lips curving into a mix of both predator and solemn care. “She was big into these types of moments. What would she say, Those lost only stay that way till they want to be found, or something like that.” She continued as she looked back out the window. Hiding her own thoughts from the room, as if staring at him for too long could cause him to go away.
She let out a loose smile and look as she brushed her long hair back, the light drip coming off of it for a moment as blood trickled from her hair down to the ground. The sound seemed to be as loud as a train in a room as silent and deaf as this one was at the moment, she looked down and back up for a moment. Hoping that she didn’t disturb his slumber, but at the same time, held to the hope that maybe that may have woke him up.
“Rachel said she was going to start coming to visit you again. I remember when she was a little more perturbed that you were the only one injured, but after I explained that you took point to make sure I didn’t get hurt. She seemed to calm down. Pretty stupid huh?” She adds in with a sad look in her eyes, watching him.
“it’s my fault you are like this I’m sure.” She adds in after a long pause. The rain hitting the window harder now as she spoke as if resonating with her, the shadows moved over the walls and shifted the lights enough to dim them but not break them. “It usually went that way right? We both would go out, you drive and we get to a location. We’d take them down…man Gabriel was proud of our group. But.. I turned left…if I hadn’t.” She puts a hand onto his bed, the shadows and lights moving as the rain falls into a deeper backdrop. “If I had gone right, maybe I could have saved us both..” She moved herself to bring her hand closer to his but moved it back.
“What would you think of me now…” She paused and looked to the mirror seeing only a distorted figure that she looked away from. She looked back to him, her eyes looking at his closed lids, one side of his face baring the direct scars of the confrontation. The stitches that were there flashing into her mind, his blood spilling everywhere around her as she watched him carefully, this was her mind playing tricks again. “What would you think of me now…that I’m a monster?” She whispers the end barely loud enough for anyone to hear, the runes pulsating with a sort of resonance between the two.
The slight shift in the shadows around her, as if they were moving back to her, to try to aid, the tendrils moving in a sort of subconscious action. Her own mind tried to comfort itself in this twisted shadow as she moved back, stepping away and looking back outside as she smirked lightly.
“Yeah I’m being a little bitch.” She stated she was saying back a mimicked tone, forced male sounding as she watched out the window itself, the rain dancing down the very window itself as she looked into the darker form of the entire thing in itself. “That’s what you’d always say if I wouldn’t just own up to something.” She chuckled lightly to herself.
“I really wish you were able to respond though. It’s hard being alone.” She added in with a slight turn on her heel and walked to the end of his bed. Her hands touching the bed frame. “I hope you will wake up, with the sun coming through the rain. Where you can see that view you always liked to see. With the sort of crystal-like touch that the droplets play down the glass. Giving that feeling of the light being bent just for you.” She takes another step as she moves towards the mirror, her distorted form reaching out as she reaches for it and takes the mirror and puts it down on top of the counter, pushing away that part for now.
There was a silence, as she watched from the corner of the room. Then the door slightly opened. A nurse came in. She was in her 30s, and she walked in getting close to him. She touched his pulse, red over the machines that seemed to glitch every now and then. And she turned, her soft white skin, cut into the brown hair she had. Holding up her hair was a pin. Her eyes turned to the woman she had seen here for the past 15 years, every night around the same time.
“Miss Jensen, I know you said you two are dear friends. But you need to remember to sign in when you come. That way we can keep it on track.” She smiled, the same smile she gave her for the past 15 years, the same look, the same tired eyes, the same forced aspect of understanding. Illuvia looked to her, with a light smile in return.
“Honestly I can’t help myself, Matthew is a close friend of mine. So I just come in when I can.” She tells her with the calm tone she had grown used to using. No more emotional bitch mode as he would say. She just had to own the place. “Plus I doubt they’d let me in after a fight. Probably want to check me out.”
She looked her over and with a shock seeing the blood all over her crop top shirt she moved forward, her nurse outfit holding to her well as she moved to touch her shirt but stopped just short.
“Miss Jensen, please. You have to stop. How did you even get in here.”
“I climbed the wall. Don’t worry too much about it, I mean I know you had locks put on but eh it’s not a problem if I go up to the 4th floor and then come down the third right?” Illuvia played, her gaze looking to him before she turned back to the nurse. Watching her face try to ponder what she just was told. She looked around hoping for some evidence.
The nurse looked back up, and all she saw was a shadow. The door, was still open and there rested a flower on the chest of Matthew, a Yellow Rose, that was slightly darkened at the lower stem. It looked like it was placed there. The room and hall began to take a breath, the air seeming to fill in once more. The very light stretched quickly to recover all the space that was lost. The nurse looked around for her as she would always once more. Seeing if she could get her to write into the visitors log. But she would never find her.
The parking lot would grumble alive as the low growling roar of the 426 v8 could be heard as it pulled into the oblivion that was around it. The lights, golden soft glow like a glare into the rain and darkness that the night brought forth. The matted black paint on the 71 Challenger seemed to eat into the very light that was trying to pour out onto the street. The rolling of the wheels as the tinted windows hid her from view. The soft peel into the deep gargle as it pulled into the street and began its next journey. The rain seemed to part around the vehicle as if it was afraid to touch it, to touch her.
