In His Castle. In Her Presence.

The White Room

Bold: flashbacks
In italics: thoughts or a sentence from the chapter(s) before.
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"That will get him out of the White room!"

My favourite thing about this room is that no sound can escape and no sound can enter. It was a mess, but that was its exact beauty. I looked at the fallen desk. "If you would know what-"

After leaving Gwyneth in the hands of Selma, I went back to where I was the other day. I was in the room that makes my heart truly feel, the room that makes me afraid, sad and curious at the same time.
The White Room.
This room was on the second floor, fourth door to the left where the infirmary closet is. Well not really, if you open that door you can only set foot in the "room", for it is just a closet with pills and what not. But if you know where to find the handle you will enter the White Room.
It was a room with as walls, floor and ceiling: white cushions. It used to be a pretty clean room, with a desk and chair, a bed and a toilet trapped between two white cushions for privacy. Everything was white, from the toilet to books with gray letters.
Now traces of scraping nails where found on the cushions, the desk split in half and on some places blood.
I walked to the door and opened the secret door. Before closing both doors, I looked around to see if nothing was there, human or non-human. After pulling the closing the closet behind me I stood in the White Room with my hands in my pockets.

"Mother? What are the noises at the end of the hallway I hear every night? They scare me, mama."

Everything was the same, nothing changed and that will never be my plan.

"Do not be afraid, my child, for the fear will consume you and then you will be making those sounds yourself." She held my head with her right hand and hugged my back with her left hand.

Memories were here, memories which are never to be spoken of. And were never spoken of.

My tears kept on coming. "When is Blair coming back from Aunt Margaret, Mother? I wish to see her."

Pain wasn't the only feeling felt in this room. Betrayal, vengeance, missing someone, the list could go on.

"Hugo, these wishes of yours shall not be granted for quite some time." She said with a stern voice, making the toughest of all crumble and scream for their mother.

My eyes rested on the scratches on the wall, I walked over to trace them with my fingers.

Her voice changed to the warm mother she showed to the world. "I tell you something, Hugo", she said while holding my shoulders and making me look at her. "Tomorrow, we shall picnic in the garden and I will ask your father to grab your fishing stuff and to take you to the lake nearby for a little father and son time. Wouldn't that be nice, my child?" Afraid of saying something back, I nodded and went back under my sheets.

I turned around to face the wall and take an other look at the room, the room in which I have seen all the corners but never felt the pain that was here. "My dear, if only you were here to tell me what happened here..." I said with a sad smile.

Little fingers traced the linings of the door.
"Hugo?"
A voice called me from behind the door. Tears where in my eyes.
That can't be. But I still need to know.
"Who-who are you?"
A little chuckle. "Has my voice changed that drastically, my little brother?"
No! This can't be!
"B-but mother... She said that you were with Aunt Margaret..."
"I am not, I am here, always have been. I would never leave you behind, not alone."
Silence.
"Have you missed me?"
I started crying about my own parents who lying every day and my sister who was screaming every night.
"Yes! Yes I have, always will be! Are you hurt? Are you the voice that screams in the night?"
"Yes, that voice is me. Hugo, you have to listen to me, alright?"
Her voice turned serious.
"Whatever mama and papa tell you, about me, is false. I need you to remember me as the sister you knew. And go far, far, away from here if you get the chance."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!"
I was angry, felt betrayed and sad.
"Remember the games we played in our days in Charlois, the deepest of secrets we shared, the stories we read and adventures we had. I will never forget you, Hugo, never. Just remember me... And be free..."
She sounded tired, no exhausted.
Was this our goodbye?
"Blair!"
The sound of fist hitting a door echoed in the hall. The feeling of two hands pulling me away surrounded my waist.
"Blair! Don't you give up on me, NOT NOW NOR EVER! YOU PROMISED SO MUCH! PLEASE!"
A ten-year-old boys voice shrieked these words.
After a fight with the two arm, I lost energy, I lost fate.
"Please..."
I was dragged away, from my only light, my only sister.
"Go and find the freedom you and I never had, I never got... Hugo..."

The only object with colour was a little wooden stool in the middle of the room, for me to sit on and look at every aspect. I reached for my note book and scribbled some thing down. Most of those scribbles were feelings or things I observed in the room, that looked in a way different than before. With all the notebooks with scribbles I tried to find out what happened in this room, all the horrors, decades ago.
I came at least once in this room, just see if anything, even a little something would look different.
The notebook landed on my knee and with a deep sigh I took another look.
"Nothing..."

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"The White Room you say, Selma?"
With shocked eyes she looked at me. "I shouldn't have said that...". She smiled and said- "Don't think about it to much, miss. That is non of our business."
But I was curious. "Selma, have you ever set foot in that room?".
I saw Selma smile while she grabbed some more blankets. "No miss, only Roderick and our master know of the room. The rest of us do not know where it is, what is in it or what is so special about it. But every time young master Cobalt walks away and we ask where he is going Roderick answers: the White Room, and let's down his head of defeat... Or maybe more of disappointment? When that name is fallen in the room we all get to our business, even if we didn't do anything before than we find something to do, and no questions are asked.".
Selma threw the extra blankets on the bed and tucked me further in. I crossed my arms.
"Oh come on Selma, do not tell me you have never seen the door of the room.".
To my surprise Selma shook her head from left to right. "I am telling you the truth, miss Gwyneth, I swear it on the life I once had. I came here after the room was actively used, sir Hugo took my remans from España and resurrected me here far, decades ago. Those are the facts and honestly everyone is afraid to ask. Master Hugo has his days when the glass is totally empty."

Now I notice the little accent and her rolling R, how adorable!

Selma looked at me, quite disturbed and mad. "Oh, I am causing you nightmares miss! I should stop talking and leave you to rest. So please, close your eyes and dream about... No wait, do not dream, go to sleep. I will see you again, if you need anything, miss Gwyneth." I laughed at her babble.
"I don't think that that will be necessary, but thank you Selma."
She walked out of the room, through the wall and the room became quite.

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The kitchen was clean, but not clean enough, in Selma's eyes. She began scrubbing the floor with all her power on hands and knees. After a while, in her left eye corner, she found me standing with my hands behind my back looking down to her.
"And what is it you are doing, Selma? Are you trying to filler the floor?" I said with a chuckle.
I made Selma laugh. She sat up straight and laughed with me. Although she did not sweat, out of habit the back of Selma's hand rubbed her forehead.
"We can laugh all we want, Roderick. But, awnser me this Roderick, why do I feel like I did something bad and in a way good?"
My eyebrows knitted together, I needed to think about that for a while.
"Dear Selma, what you did was setting miss Gwyneth in a good direction by saying something our master would be mad of."
Selma sighed. "I will never understand the things that are going on in that skull of yours." She told me, while pointing her bony finger at me. We laughed until the silence fell again.
"Come on Selma, let us rest." She nodded and gone we were.
The last thing I heard was the door of our beloved masters bedchamber close. All was well... then.

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#I am only going to write in Gwyneths, Hugo's and Rodericks points of view!

So, funny story, I lost inspiration.
Hopefully I can get a chapter that is FINALLY good.

And by the way, what does Roderick know that we don't?#