**Trevor Gaines POV** Date Unknown. Time Unknown.
"Quich... Quich, quich... Quich."
Are the accursed reverberations that unapologetically jolt me awake. Meaning my wife, Miranda, left the T.V to survey my dreams. To top it off, she did the movie with the most ghoulish sounds and harrowing playlist.
"- Sometimes I play possum like I'm asleep, it's awesome. I'm like a sleeping giant and when I awake, I'm like Dre. I just jump from outta nowhere and bite prey. And sink my teeth in 'em and fill 'em full of poison. And make a noise like a snake before I kill 'em. And let 'em know that I just don't feel 'em. And smack 'em with the backward E, the Eminem emblem. -"
"- I was taught, if you're gonna murder somebody, you should face 'em. Tell 'em why, look 'em dead in the eye, then waste 'em. And the dark shall emerge from the fiery depths of hell. Then swallow the shell of the hollow who dwell. In the shadows of all who are willing to sell their souls. For this rap game and it g-g-goes -"
"Quich... Quich, quich... Quich." The rigid sounds of squelching continue and so does the harrowing music. Right up until the moment I attempt to open my uncomplying eyelids. And with their fade, the actual blood curdling sound begins.
"Goddddd, do something! Help me, please!" Without even seeing the actress or watching a second of the film, I'm drawn to the character as the helpless squeals infiltrate my heart rather than my ears. No wonder Miranda left without turning this movie off, the smothering sound of chaos wouldn't permit her to watch the program any further.
"Quich... Quich, quich... Quich."
"Ahhhhhhh! Hmmmmm! Ahhhhh! God, please?" The intensified groans from the actress beckons before two small pieces of metal gently clank together near my ear. I don't know when Miranda installed surround sound, but this year's playoff parties might be held in the bedroom!
"Rannnnda?" I probe as I seek to open my eyes and reach for the remote. Yet, again, my body denies my request and for the first time I can remember for something other than my brother, I'm panicked. I don't know what has a clench on my arms or my eyes but I do comprehend that with what I've woken up to, Miranda must've become possessed.
"Welcome back, Mr. Gaines. Take a second to gather your composure." The raspy voice is actually a gentle hum. Exactly how a Doctor should be. Did we crash? Is my first thought but I don't remember getting in a car with Miranda. In fact, my latest memory is drawing blanks. "Mrs. Gaines and I were just discussing how best I should liquidate you... I can't seem to make up my mind."
"Waahhh? Whhhhaaa?" Unintentionally, my words slur as I do my best to respond and fathom the sentence the doctor just uttered. Even more importantly, the word. Liquidate? I'm not an asset. Why would anyone be using the term liquidate?
"Trevor! I hate you, Trevor! I hate you so fucking much! What did you get me into?" The crow of the actresses calls, confusing me even more. When did I become an actor? And why can't I remember anything?
"Mr. Gaines, right now your mind can't encompass what your body is attempting to process. Part of that is the norepinephrine, epinephrine, and anesthesia combination mixed with a few more prescribed drugs." The doctor explains before the sounds of stirring macaroni continue.
"Quich... Quich, quich... Quich."
"Godddddd, save me!" The woman cries again, denting my thoughts with more confusion. Is the doctor giving a surgery right now? Why is this scene of the movie so long? Why can't I move, talk, or think correctly?
"Where's my wife?" Is what my words are supposed to form into. However they only amount to; "glaheeere muuuuu hhhth?"
"Mr. Gaines, you've got a wire running through your mouth. Please refrain from splitting your tongue before we're at that stage." The doctor demands lightly, getting enough of my puzzled thoughts to form the image of imminent danger is inside this room.
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Bullets In A Cold Winter Breeze
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