Psycho

CHAPTER 31

  The remaining parts of the week had wrung by slowly; torturously. Each day wreaking nothing short of utter pain, crude lust, sheer remorse and bitter heartbreak; it was the certain kind of mix of simmering emotions that would send most to the opposite end of a noose, leaving them to dangle lifelessly with death cradled in their pale eyes.

Hopeless

  The past few days had consisted of slow days wasting away at work and even slower nights revelling in despair at home; most of the time, he'd even delay his leave from work on purpose. Anything to keep away from the boy.

  It was like home wasn't home anymore. Home had now seemed to have embodied a new meaning to Colton. Home, the place where he was haunted by ghosts of his past, tortured by nightmares of the present and his own subconscious taunting and whispering things in his quivering ears.

It had been a complete disarray of emotions and S had been unfortunate enough to get caught in the cross fire of the man's internal warfare.

  The morning sun had barely rose to gaze through the half open blinds of Colton's dimly lit room. Cold breeze prowled through the windows, gently gliding over the scattered hairs on his chest, sending jolts down to his frail limbs.

He peeled his heavy lids apart, slow and steadily; almost eerily. Beads of sweat laced his brow and trailed down the sides of his face, streaming over burning hot flesh. He sighed in quiet anguish as his mind rummaged through memories that stalked his gloomy dreams; another nightmare.

  Only just a few minutes before his alarm would eventually buzz annoyingly, Colton willed energy enough to rattle his aching body into an upright sitting position over the edge of the bed. His palms pinned into the mattress as he then hoisted himself up to his feet.

  He sighed lowly, reaching up his sweaty palms to his heavy eyes, rubbing for good measure. He then gathered vigor in his half dead feet, willing each one forward. He could feel a weight tugging on his chest in a crude manner but he simply chose to ignore the bitter feeling, dismissing his alarm before treading for his bathroom.

......

  The tension in the air was as thick as a cinder block, crass as death and stiff as a log. The atmosphere itself was grim and the stench emanating from the plain white walls was suffocating. His nose scrunched in distaste.

  Not long after, his curious eyes began to roam around the room thoroughly. His gaze landed on a woman at the far end of the bench next to his. Her eyes looked swollen, her lower lip was cut and dried blood stained her denim jacket. She had her empty yet tender eyes glued to her hands, where she caressed and tweaked the silver band round her left middle finger. He turned to the others; no smiles, just stoic faces and vacant eyes.

The boy cringed internally in discomfort, shifting slightly in his seat. To think that the people sitting around him were waiting to see a loved one. One whom may be dead, dying or just hanging on the last breath of air through machines and monitors.

  He felt his gut tighten at the thought. The aura seemed to be tainted with the odor of bitter suffering. His mind immediately shifted to a white door at the end of the hall situated at a near corner. His knees bounced and his fingers got to work, tangling and untangling in a jittery and anxious manner. Colton had disappeared through the strange door just minutes ago but it had felt like an eternity ever since.

The boy's eyes stayed fixated on the door, trying to find anything interesting about it. He wanted a distraction but what racked his mind as his gaze stiffened was quite odd. He could not put a finger on it but he felt a slight jolt, it was a sharp but brief feeling and it left his vision blurry for quite some time. His hands reached up to both sides of his throbbing temples. His fingertips squeezed, rubbed, pressed; all in hopes of ridding the pain and that's when the creak of the door was heard.

  His head shot up in excitement but with his flawed vision, all he could behold was a smallish silhouette, blonde hair and glasses. Definitely not Colton, he sucked his teeth in disappointment, letting his hands fall to his lap limply.

I need to get the appointment over with

  He watched the figure stand rooted in place, seeming to have his gaze in S's direction. Not too long later, the boy scrambled away and out of the boy's sight. The raven haired boy waited some more.

   For S, home had been tense; and quiet, mostly quiet. He had suffered a few breakdowns, especially at nights. The reoccuring nightmare accompanied by zero word exchange from Colton when he'd get back from work. It had really taken a toll on the younger man.

  Each evening, he'd return with a thousand mile stare in his eyes, a vacant facial expression and body language as cold as the ice that'd struck the Titanic. As soon as he would step foot passed the wide open elevator, he would retire up to his room uttering absolutely nothing and that would be all S would see of him till the very next morning.

  He would never eat dinner, ditch breakfast the following morning only to return with a blank face and stone cold eyes.

  S had been quite relentless throughout, making him dinner every single night and whether or not he'd eat it, he'd still prepare food the next morning and night. He wasn't giving up on the man but little did he know what was in store for him.

"S"

  The boy's head shot up at his name being called. His vision had cleared by this time. Anxiety nipped at his cheeks, giving a reddish tinge as he ascended from the seat. Standing still at the front of the door was Colton and not too far behind was the shorter Englishman. His feet felt like they would give out at any moment; He had a bad feeling.