Dents

[+] Busted and Blue

((This chapter contains mature and potentially triggering material. Reader discretion is advised.))

I couldn't move. My body tremored. I screamed, my throat hoarse. Only a hollow whimper escaped me.

When did I get so cold?

I sat up in the unfamiliar bed, spurred from another nightmare. It's haunting how the past follows you. No matter how much effort you put into pushing it away or stuffing it down, it always returns to remind you that it happened. I ran a hand through my hair. It was matted with sweat.

There was no endgame for me. There was no solution. I had to leave then.

I had to leave now.

I quickly gathered my head and my belongings, what little of them there was, in a small knapsack I had taken with me. I figured there wasn't much food in 2D's room. I would have to take some from the shared space I had originally woken up in. It wasn't going to be easy. To make matters more complicated, I had no idea about the situation with the elevator. It would not surprise me if Murdoc had taken liberty to lock it somehow.

I made a break for the elevator doors. I glanced back to the room one more time, scanning for anything useful.

2D was curled tightly on the mattress. The blanket pulled away from him when I woke. He was shivering. It didn't help that he was already terribly thin, and we were underwater to boot.

I looked to the ground. I had to leave unnoticed.

I pressed delicately on the elevator call button, careful not to make a sound aside from the bell. The chime hadn't disrupted 2D any. Still, he shuddered in the cold.

The elevator creaked down the chamber. I didn't have a lot of time to spare. I scampered lightly back to the bed, swiftly grasping the blanket that sprawled across the floor on my way.

Even in a state of unconsciousness, he looked miserable. I covered him the best I could in the few seconds I had. As I pulled the blanket over his shoulder, I hesitated.

His arm was littered in deep shades of purple and red. He had a shallow cut on his bottom lip. His left eye was darker than it should have been. The purple hue of a bruise developed in the socket.

He looked like me.

I didn't have time to stay. This was my only chance.

I scrambled to the elevator. I typically had a light gait, though not when I needed it. I tripped over the cord to the television and nearly fell, pulling the plug out in the process. 2D was unbothered by the disturbance.

He almost looked like he was smiling. I felt better about leaving for a while.

I entered the elevator. I was in there for what felt like an eternity. The maroon carpet was filthy and stained. I was convinced some less than reputable people had done some questionable things inside of it, probably more than once. The air was heavy with the stench of bodily fluids and cheap vodka.

As soon as I made it to the ground floor, I bolted for the small kitchen I had seen at the end of the hall. I filled two crushed gallons with tap water while stuffing my bag with several cans of nonperishables. I made it out the door in record time.

Neither the distended landscape nor the foul malodor of garbage could slow me down. I ran along the route I thought led to the boat. I saw a tire melted into a hairy pink teddy bear. I was sure of my direction, then. I learned to be constantly aware of surroundings and landmarks, attributable to my time spent in Essex in that God forsaken house. 

I was used to going places I didn't understand. I had grown accustomed to this way of life, living on the edge, then over the edge, falling eternally. I broke through bottoms deeper than the Mariana Trench. I waded through chasms of pain unlike the horror of what any had witnessed before me.

This was nothing.

The boat wasn't on the shoreline anymore. That green bastard had probably taken it for scrap and schemed to cast me out to sea anyway.

The hopelessness set in before I made it back to the building. I ditched my collection of stolen goods in a heap of trash, not wanting to be caught out in my failure. The towering white structure was the only thing here. It was the only salvation I had left.

I turned 23 a few days ago, I thought. It was hard to remember such things when no one else cared to. I went to England as a student. I didn't get to come back.

Now I was sure that I never would.

I reached for my harmonica. It was the last piece of home I had to show that it had ever existed at all. I played a song my mother taught me when I still lived in Ireland.

My memory was fractured.

I recalled our home to be very beautiful. It was a small cottage style house surrounded in rolling green pastures. It smelled of wheat and honey. It had the appearance of a place that could only exist in a painting, never to be tarnished by reality.

Reality comes swiftly and relentlessly. It leaves only shards of innocence in its wake.

I played for a long time. My lips grew sore with tension.

The last lingering notes drifted through the remaining sunlight like a melody traveling through time. When I turned to make my retreat back to where I was supposed to be, I found that 2D was standing in the entrance.

"Yew've got quite a knack fo' 'at, don't yew?"

I was embarrassed and a smidge upset that my privacy had been disturbed. 2D appeared to be genuine about the comment, which eased my discomfort a bit.

"I suppose I do."

"Didn't hear yew when yew snuck out."

"Isn't that the whole point?"

The mood lightened with the rising sun.

I studied his arm. It was the same one I had covered a couple of hours ago. The bruising was substantial. He had been beaten into poor shape.

Just as I had opened my mouth to ask if he was alright, 2D spoke.

"Wha' do yew say yew help us out wifth the album? We could use mo' raw talent. Whole fing's startin' to sound a lil artificial, if yew ask me."

The tightly drawn scowl of my lips cracked apart into a genuine smile. Maybe offering to help would get me off of this dumpy island. Even if it wouldn't, I may be better suited playing friendly for a while. Having regular access to food and a shower sounded nice, too.

"Alright, 2D. I'm in."