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Chapter 6 - A Smile Without Meaning
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Draco's hands flexed and yanked at the metal that bit into his skin. He wondered how long it had been since the doctor had left. It felt like an eternity. But in reality only minutes have passed. His bare feet felt the cool touch of the floor now.
What happened to his shoes? He did not know, not that he cared at the moment.
His eyes were red- almost hideous and awful to look directly at, they were gaunt and had heavy dark circles underneath from the nights he had been here. His skin had black marks that portrayed his veins more predominately, his pale skin now ashen like the dead. If he tried he could feel how long his hair had grown recently these past few weeks. It had grown inches, surely by now.
Draco wearily glanced up at the one sided mirror, his body was blurred. Perhaps by the drugs that had been installed into his system. He could feel his hands tremble in what could only be described as euphoria. "h'llo", he murmured to no one.
He shook his head trying to flush out the chemical.
The grace Draco had once held all turned into oblivion as he was uncharacteristically different than he had been not too long ago. What would the others say about him if they had seen him in such a funny situation? Would they laugh at him, help him, or perhaps just leave him there if there were given the chance.
"Luna?" Draco called out, his head turned up and staring as the almost seemingly perfect ceiling of the room. "Luna, Luna, Luna." He repeated with great desperation, almost pleading, begging not to be left alone.
Draco tried not to sound as if he had no choice but to call to him, but he need to. He didn't want to be left alone with his own thoughts. Thoughts that could make him go insane and crazy. For a split second Draco thinks he hears Luna, but truthfully that is only the drug.
"Luna!" His pupils shake and hands clutch onto the high cool chains that clang each time he yells. His head suddenly jerks down and his eyes close.
His vision going from the bright pale haunting white room to his own place, his home.
Draco looks down at his hands, his black veins no longer showing but rather now flawless as it had been before. He pushes himself back almost as if he's been stung as the children run around and in between his legs. The children apologize and continue to chase one another giggling in joy at such a childish game of tag.
