Girl In His Mind

Part One: Chapter One

The wind and rain outside was practically tearing down trees. Even within the walls of the abandoned museum, it was extremely loud.
     The windows revealed the dilapidated town that had been ripped  to pieces.
     Two figures tripped into the building, and slammed the door shut.
     "I can't do this." His voice was so frail. So broken. So sad and worn and torn down. His posture was slumped and bent, and his expression read grief. From what death you may ask, and to that I say his own. . He was about to give up.
     "You aren't done. You don't have to be done. I can help. Please, for me?" Her voice on the other hand was smooth and persuasive. Reassuring.
     "Amelia, do you really think that you can? I'm just about dead. I'm broken! Everything I do is horrible!" The look upon Amelia's face revealed everything. Worry lines and crow's feet. At the time the worry lines shown through quite a bit.
     "I'm sorry. But you're not broken. And even if you are, so am I. "
     "You don't understand," he wasn't speaking, he was sobbing, "Every noise drives me insane. Every imperfection about myself drives me insane!" Simon collapses to his knees. All the words he said were at least partly true. Storms like the one outside we're the things of his nightmares. When he heard them he felt as if he was trapped inside his own mind.
     Simon Skye Graves's mind was a horrid thing. When he slept he was practically trapped. When he wasn't sleeping all the noises around him were amplified by one hundred and played all at once. Simon gave himself day terrors when he wasn't focusing on one thing in particular.
     As for how he looked, no one thought much of him. Blond hair like straw, sometimes almost white. And a thin frame and blue eyes. But his presence was hauntingly thick. Now believe it or not, it is possible for a presence to be thick. Whenever he entered a room the air got thicker. It was as if he was a burden to everyone. Even Amelia.
     "You can't keep acting like I'm not an extra weight on your shoulders!" At the end of his sentence his voice quivered.
     "You aren't some boulder I wanna drop! You're a human being who deserves a chance whether or not you believe it." The way she said it made her stop thinking it was true. She wanted to convince herself she could help him, but she couldn't.
     Amelia Alexander Elliot wasn't a picnic herself. Sure she was good looking. Shiny auburn hair with those grey green sort of eyes that left you wondering what color they really were. A spray of cinnamon freckles flew across her face. But looks can be deceiving.
     She suffered from PTSD. When Amelia was about thirteen years old, she was in a car crash. The first one wasn't so bad. No one had any broken bones. The second one was worse. Broken arm and ribs. Third one was the worst. both legs broke and a couple ribs. All in one year. Now cars weren't the safest thing for her mind. Now at age twenty three she could ride a bike, skateboard, and roller skates. But never again a car.
     "I can't do it! I can't do it! I can't do it!"
     His words were racing out his mouth. Tears running down his cheeks. The noise outside was being amplified as well as his heartbeat. "No! I can't do this..." The stairs had to lead somewhere. A large staircase led up to a second floor, and then a third. Simon shot up to his feet and sprinted to the stairwell. There were about fifty stairs... He ran faster. Amelia was following, but trudging along due to an ankle sprain from earlier that day.
     After exploring the museum whilst running away, he found a quiet room.
     "Finally," Simons voice was exasperated. "Some quiet."
     The room around him was something of some interest. At least compared to the rest of the building.
     The room that surrounded him was quite possibly the nicest in the rundown museum. The floor had ash grey tiles and cracks everywhere. Dark green walls were covered in a layer of dust, then a couple strange paintings.
     They consisted of a blue looking alien and a couple other assorted aliens. But at the moment that was none of Simons concern.
     You see the reason they were there that day was because of the noises, at least partly. Everyone in the now abandoned town had evacuated due to the storm. Simon and Amelia had been underground for this evacuation. They were in the wine cellar of their employer, Geoffry Johnson, who wanted them to organize his wine. The couple were basically his servants. But they needed the money. The amount of money Simon and Amelia had could be counted on one hand. But no one was going to be using money anytime soon.
     The evacuation center was approximately two thousand miles from where they were in the museum.The reasoning for it being this far was the fact that they were close enough away that they could communicate. And far enough that if it were an attack they would be safe from any bombing. At least the bombs they knew about. Which was very few.
     Anyway, Simon sat down in the corner and began contemplating how to get to the center. Walking in the storm would be suicide. Unless they could find some sort of earplugs they wouldn't get far. If they could find a working car they could drive, but Amelia... A bike. Bikes were all over the city. Now finding one would be quite a predicament. It would be so much easier if Amelia was just a figment of his imagination. After all he did have a habit of imaginary friends when he was a kid.
     Before he could finish his plan, he fell into a much needed sleep. After seven hours of rest, he awoke to Amelia in the other corner staring at him.
     "I found you." She smiled a soft, warm smile that your mother gave you when she felt proud.
     "And now you'll have to find me again." Simon got up to leave, but Amelia said something that stopped him cold.
     "You know you don't have to run away from people. We could help. Or at least try."
     "No, you couldn't. And that isn't our main priority right now. Right now we need to get to the evacuation center without getting killed by the storm."
     "Okay, but we will deal with this later."
     "Okay, but you're not my fucking mother. Okay?"
     She squeaked "Okay."
     "So let's figure it out," he sat back down and began discussing their possibilities.
     "We could find a car." Simon found that suggestion odd. Especially because of her PTSD.
     "But what about your car accidents?"
     "What car accidents?"
     "All the accidents you've been in. Three in one year?"
     "I've never been in a car accident..."
     "Yes, you have. You broke an arm, both legs, and a couple ribs."
     "Okay. But I've never done any of those things. Maybe you just imagined it."
     "Yeah, maybe..." He didn't quite believe her, but he decided it wasn't worth arguing about. "So I guess we need a car. And gas."
     "Then we'll have to start right now."
     The two of them proceeded to exit the museum and head into the storm. The storm was still raging and tore down trees. The wind were insanely fast, reaching almost ninety miles per hour. Ice was coming down in sheets. All the protection Amelia and Simon had were thick wool-cotton coats, hoods that had full face covers, and the thickest gloves ever. Even that was almost useless. It was almost impossible to keep their hoods on. Simons tears froze to his cheeks.
     "Do you see any cars?!" Amelia had to yell over the wind for Simon to hear her.
     "I think there's one over there next to the old Smith's!" A vague image of a car was outlined in the deserted parking lot. And a light was emanating from it. It was a snappy yellow green Lumma. A medium sized, boxy car.
     Once they got close enough to examine the car, they saw a person passed out in the front seat, engine still on.
     "Turn off the engine!" Amelia hollered while climbing into the car. Simon rushed to turn the engine off without waking the person sitting there. They then carried on to push the person to the back seat, and close the doors.
     "We made it." Simon sat in the driver's seat while Amelia went on a tangent anpt how they made it to the car. While she was ranting Simon checked how much gas was left and who the person in the backseat was. "That was amazing, but I'm so-"
     "Who do you think this is?" Simon examined the now obviously female figure in the backseat. She was wearing a red parka and a ski mask. Simon took off the mask carefully and long, black, silky hair cascaded down from it. Her breath smelled of alcohol and vanilla.
     "I'm not sure but she has to wake up eventually."
     "Hhhhhha," the woman inhaled sharply and shot up, banging her head on Simons.
     "Oh shit," Simon exclaimed as he held his face in his hands.
     "It hurts me too." The black haired girl grimaced while also holding her head.
     "Well I know it hurts, I can feel it."
     "That's a hell of a way to meet someone. Bang heads with 'em." The woman seemed less disoriented now, and began to introduce herself. "Anyhow, I'm the owner of this car you have promptly broken into, and my name is Anastasia. And you are?"
     "I'm Simon Graves and that is Amelia Elliot."
     "Who is Ame- you know what? Doesn't matter. What does matter is that you are in my car. Why?"
     "Umm, well, you know, the storm that's outside." Simon attempted to explain it, but failed.
     "That storm is the reason we need your car-" Amelia also tried but Anastasia ignored her and only acknowledged Simon. Everything going on with Amelia got stranger and stranger.
     "Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon.  I understand that part. But why my car? Why not Smith's?"
     Simon was beginning to feel annoyed by her, as she wouldn't stop staring at him. Her piercing blue eyes terrified him.
     "We didn't go into the Smith's because we needed to get to the evacuation center. Which brings my question up. Why aren't you at the evacuation center?"
     "Because I caused the storm." She smirked at Simons confused expression. "I'm shitting you. Probably. But go where you please. My car is your car. So go. Now," she said and pulled her hood over head and fell back asleep.
     "She is... interesting. She kept disregarding me."
     "Yeah... She's strange..." He turned his mind off and turned the car on, beginning the drive to Evacuation Center 6232019.
     "Anastasia, can you drive for awhile? I can't focus." Simon asked the now awake Anastasia, and the already awake Amelia.
     "Why? And yeah, I love driving." Anastasia had the type of personality that always seemed drunk. Although being incredibly smart, she was always a strange person. And for all I know, she could have been always drunk.
     "Oh he is very sens-" Amelia was the motherly type. Meaning she acted like Simon's mother at times.
     "You're not my mother," Simon whispered at her. "Anyway I am very sensitive to noise. And as you hear, there is a horrid storm outside. And by my frozen tears, you can tell it's the most stressful thing in the entire world."
     Before replying Ana looked at the passenger seat like it was empty and shook her head. "That's rough. I can't imagine living like that for... How old are you?"
     "I'm twenty three." Anastasia was becoming more and more intrigued by Simon Graves. His blue brown eyes, and his nightmarish mind.
      "Oh, I'm twenty three too. Do you know exactly how to get to this place?"
      "No clue. Just in that vague direction," he gestured toward the way they were headed and switched seats with Ana.
     "That's great. But the real question is how are we gonna eat and drink? And also we are running out of gas."
     "Well we can survive off of water for a while, maybe from the gallons falling from the sky right now?"
     "Mmmm, nope. Our sky pollutes it to much. I have a couple water jugs in the trunk, but I don't feel like getting them. Could you?" As bubbly as Ana was, she was incredibly lazy.
     "Yeah, whatever," he put down one of the seats to climb out to the trunk and grabbed two of the nine water jugs. "Umm, why do you have so much water?"
     "Like I said, I started this, so I came prepared," then she started the car up again and drove. Simon shook his head and pulled his hood over his head and thought Maybe she's insane too, and fell asleep.
     For this entire conversation Amelia was staring out the window in frustration. She loved Simon like brother, but she was being to despise him. Ana wasn't her favorite either. It was as if she wasn't there. Everything she said was ignored by either Simon or Anastasia. Anastasia, what is wrong with that girl? Going on a six hour trip with two people I'm beginning to hate is gonna be fun. Only five more hours, she thought, and then fell asleep.
     The wind shields had to be turned on in order for Anastasia to see where she was driving. What she could were the mountains to her left, covered icy snow. The snow was everywhere. Granted, it was more ice than snow. But still, it was white, blindingly white. Ana drove for an hour or so without stopping, until they ran out of gas.
     "Fuck!" Ana woke everyone up with her exclamation.
     "What?!" Simon screamed with irritation, obviously annoyed by her waking him and Amelia up.
     "The goddamn gas is out!"
     "Calm down, we'll figure it out," Simon said pulling his legs around to sit, instead of lay down.
     "Okay, but how the hell are we supposed to get from here, in the middle of nowhere, to the evac center, by walking?"
     "It's okay, How long did you drive?"
     "She drove for an hour, so we still have four more left." Amelia answered.
     Simon replied with "Is your name Anastasia? No." He looked at her and glared. Ana looked between the two in confusion, but decided to brush it off.
     "Umm, I drove for one hour. Meaning we still have four hours left."
     "Do you have like a tent or something? I mean even with one it might be impossible. But the wind died down." Simon pondered whether or not he would go insane before they got to the center.
     "Yeah, but would we walk? You would go crazy, while we would freeze to death."
     "Well do you have wax or something? Maybe earplugs? Headphones?"
     "No. Can you really do this? Even with some noise blocked with the car your crying." Anastasia and Amelia were very similar in the way that they both care for Simon with all their hearts. Just in different ways.
     "I'll try. If we don't try to get there we die. But if we die trying to get there, I don't know. It just feels like we tried. Ha. That's ironic. Just twelve hours ago I was screaming how I couldn't do it anymore."
     "Well then, let's hope this isn't the calm before the storm. For now, let's zip up and trudge ahead." Ana and Simon went to grab the backpacks and tents from the trunk, while Amelia searched for some sort ear plugs for Simon. They figured that they could each carry two water jugs, since they already drank two. One had been pushed off and out of the trunk, into the canyon.
     "Let's do this," Amelia muttered to herself.
     After abandoning the car, they walked for about half an hour before Simon broke. He collapsed to the ground as the three were hiking a the small foothills of the Elefante Mountain.
     "Simon!" Amelia grabbed for him, but she missed by a large amount. Simon was passed out, so he was no use in saving his own life. Next Ana rolled down the ice and snatched his wrist while simultaneously grabbing a rock to hold them both. At the worst and best moment possible Simon gained consciousness. The pair weren't vertical to the ground, but they were damn close.
     "What's happening?" He asked drowsily.
     "We might fucking die, so grab a rock and hold on!" The wind was jostling them around so keeping them up was very difficult for Anastasia. Especially since Simon was near unconscious. "I said, grab a rock and hold on!"
     "Okay." He was coming to his senses and began to realize what was happening and hastily reached for a handhold. He was panting, starting to have a panic attack.
     "If you panic then we die! I don't plan on letting you die the day I met you!" Anastasia was content on living as most people would be in this situation. And eventually they climbed back up. But it took awhile. The ice was slippery and foot and handholds were made out of ice covered rocks. Just imagine yourself in Simons position, wind howling like wolves, stressed out by it, while almost falling to your death. Ana wasn't doing much better. She was almost entirely responsible for his life at this point. If he began to fall, she caught him.
     After half an hour they got to the top. Almost immediately after, Simon collapsed yet again.
     Amelia and Ana set up camp around him. Trying to lift him into the tent, then getting into the tent themselves. They set up in the very center of the hill and hammered stability pegs into the ground. If they arranged themselves in a strange fashion, they could all be comfortable. After that struggle, they fell into a restless sleep.