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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Teens
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Character Based
- Published: 07/08/2014
Laura had woken to a pale radiance of moonlight three hours ago. Two hours ago she’d sat up from her bed and for the last hour she’d merely sat there. Anthony was drumming again, an incessant knocking like a plea for entry. It was becoming intolerable.
“Can you stop?” She thought to herself,
“No” he drummed back.
Two hours later or maybe four, the rising sun began to glow pink through the plain white curtain and the drumming had slowly subsided, only to be replaced by a harsh loud beeping beside her bed that she quickly shut off. With a subtle feeling of relief Laura slid her legs off the bed and landed softly on the floor, her feet tingling slightly as she stood. With tired difficulty, Laura pulled her waist length blonde hair out of a tight ponytail and stepped into the bathroom. She exchanged good mornings to her roommate, as per habit and flung the shower curtain into place. Laura stripped down and stepped gingerly into the ceramic tub. This was her favourite place to relax every day, since the clean blue shower curtain blocked the view of the mirror that terrified her. Ten minutes later or maybe an hour, Laura swung the curtain aside and stepped out face to face with her mirror and Anthony finally met her eye, his face blurry and obscured by condensation and Laura turned her gaze, quietly pretending not to have seen him. He’d drum on the foggy mirror as she dried and got dressed, and yet she still avoided his eye. “Can you hear me now?” He whispered his lips unmoving.
“No” she'd reply, and he’d only drum louder.
Her day went on as routine requested; to dress for a job she didn't have and to prepare for her roommate’s lecture of which she did not attend. Music would always keep her occupied; a symphonic orchestra was preferred because it never had a beat. Laura turned on her favourite symphony and sat and watched the music bounce off the mirrors that lined the walls, intertwining with the light that shone from the ceiling and Laura watched the pretty light show that was put on just for her.
A knock came at the door down the hall, disturbing the music and interrupting the light it created, and Laura craned her neck to see who it was behind the light oak wood. Ignoring the colour coded pills she’d left the night before, Laura walked to the door without opening it and lay her palm and cheek on the wood. A second rattling knock reverberated through her skin and Anthony whispered to her not to open it. Laura immediately felt scared; she wasn't used to visitors. Anthony wasn't drumming and she turned her head swiftly to catch him in the mirrors but they were empty. There was no more knocking from behind the door and she unlocked it, opening it carefully and peering outside. The door suddenly slammed shut past her face, nearly smacking her hard. The hand that pushed it was hers but it felt too strong and masculine, like someone else’s forearm was sewn to her body. Anthony didn't want the door opened. Laura was trapped in the few small rooms she occupied every day; she’d forgotten she wasn't allowed to leave. Anthony walked Laura back to the living room where she could take her pills. Anthony was drumming; a hard solid beat behind her eyes and Laura tried not to hum along. “Please stop it” Laura begged, to which Anthony returned to his place in one of the many mirrors encasing the room and merely looked at her, expressionless.
The drumming grew louder and more constant, Anthony’s own heartbeat maybe, she thought. Laura wanted her roommate to return and offer her pills to make it stop; Laura’s own private nurse and caregiver, but she had been gone for hours, or maybe days.
Dun dun dun.
Anthony made it difficult to judge time. Dun dun dun. Unnerving and unvarying he would only drum louder, until the day Laura would let him take her, dun dun dun dun, to which she would refuse, her resistance however, always wavering.
With chilling uncertainty, Laura faced the mirror, expecting Anthony to be there, but he was gone and yet the drumming continued; the signature he left of his presence was tormenting and unending. Dun dun dun.
Laura turned to her pills which were sorted by colour for each day; blue for Monday, orange for Wednesday and so on. She tried to remember what day it was but the drumming made it so hard. Anthony offered the white ones, meant for Sunday; Laura wanted the red ones because they were pretty.
Drumming and silent whispering filled Laura’s head as she argued. Two pills were taken per day, according to their colour, their purpose being to silence the drums and disrupt her pretty lights.
Dun dun dun.
After seconds or minutes or hours of arguing, Laura realized Anthony was right; they all contained the same effect. Take them all and one pair will be the correct dose. Laura felt sure this was right; sure this was a smart decision and felt proud of herself. She dumped fourteen pills in the palm of her hand, carefully plucking two at a time and swallowing them, Anthony watching her all the while. Frightening her still, she refused to look at him and kept gulping pills. Eventually her palm was empty and the drumming began to die.
Laura hesitated for a moment, her pale eyes locked on the front oak door past the empty mirrors. Taking small steps forward and feeling excited, she reached the end of the hall and gripped the brass handle, her stomach feeling nauseated with excitement.
Laura stepped outside and smiled brighter than the sun that warmed her face, her bare toes curling into the sharp gravel as she stepped out in the fresh afternoon air, for some reason her stomach was churning, perhaps she thought, from excitement at the prospect of finally returning to the world. Laura continued to walk rather aimlessly, the blue clouded sky circling and swirling above her. She began to stumble, causing passersby to comment cynically on her apparent drunken state and look at her quite disdainfully. The clouds continued to spin in encouragement for Laura to follow them, to ignore the acid like ache in her stomach, before allowing her to rest her gaze on the beautiful colours in front of her. She started to feel scared; she’d taken more than enough pills to make the coloured lights go away, and yet there they were. And where they appeared, Anthony always remained close by. But he was still gone, silent; trapped in the mirrors back home, perhaps. Laura felt relief swim over her before she fell to the ground, hitting the pavement with a rough thump. She felt her stomach rise up to meet her throat and threw up, choking, all over her shirt. She couldn't tell what was swimming anymore, her head or the clouds. She smelt vile and could feel her stomach burning her throat and her head was too heavy to move. She vomited again, this time an artistic vision of colours and blood. Strangers, the ones who’d called her drunk, crowded around her, crouching and holding her sideways, letting her puke some more, even though she could feel that what mess littered the pavement had already burned through the lining of her stomach. Laura began to cry, she wasn't used to this kind of fiery agony and she wished Anthony would drag her back home, slam the door in her face and protect her through the mirrors. An ambulance was called, a stranger muttered. It’d be here in a few minutes. Laura was losing focus and she found it difficult to make out any words among the mutters. Her tears poured over her nose and left temple and she began to choke again, her medicine induced silence filling her head and clouding her thoughts. Bile was rising up to meet her throat again and this time she tried to swallow it, to keep her silence if she could, inside her. Retching this time, Laura felt it burning her airways and the hands around her shook her trying to make her okay. Her lungs and throat continued to burn and she couldn't inhale deep enough. Something burned and blocked her airway, and she shook as hands fought hands above her, each one trying to pat her back, whether to save her life or congratulate her on dying Laura couldn't tell, but as colours started to fade, coherent thoughts did too and only the burning sensation that drowned her could be discernible. Laura didn’t know if her eyes were shut or not, but everything around her had become black, and Laura, no longer feeling the rough gravel beneath her or the warm hands that enveloped her, faded out, hearing only a soft, rhythmic drumming.
Laura(Cynthia KE Howarth)
Laura had woken to a pale radiance of moonlight three hours ago. Two hours ago she’d sat up from her bed and for the last hour she’d merely sat there. Anthony was drumming again, an incessant knocking like a plea for entry. It was becoming intolerable.
“Can you stop?” She thought to herself,
“No” he drummed back.
Two hours later or maybe four, the rising sun began to glow pink through the plain white curtain and the drumming had slowly subsided, only to be replaced by a harsh loud beeping beside her bed that she quickly shut off. With a subtle feeling of relief Laura slid her legs off the bed and landed softly on the floor, her feet tingling slightly as she stood. With tired difficulty, Laura pulled her waist length blonde hair out of a tight ponytail and stepped into the bathroom. She exchanged good mornings to her roommate, as per habit and flung the shower curtain into place. Laura stripped down and stepped gingerly into the ceramic tub. This was her favourite place to relax every day, since the clean blue shower curtain blocked the view of the mirror that terrified her. Ten minutes later or maybe an hour, Laura swung the curtain aside and stepped out face to face with her mirror and Anthony finally met her eye, his face blurry and obscured by condensation and Laura turned her gaze, quietly pretending not to have seen him. He’d drum on the foggy mirror as she dried and got dressed, and yet she still avoided his eye. “Can you hear me now?” He whispered his lips unmoving.
“No” she'd reply, and he’d only drum louder.
Her day went on as routine requested; to dress for a job she didn't have and to prepare for her roommate’s lecture of which she did not attend. Music would always keep her occupied; a symphonic orchestra was preferred because it never had a beat. Laura turned on her favourite symphony and sat and watched the music bounce off the mirrors that lined the walls, intertwining with the light that shone from the ceiling and Laura watched the pretty light show that was put on just for her.
A knock came at the door down the hall, disturbing the music and interrupting the light it created, and Laura craned her neck to see who it was behind the light oak wood. Ignoring the colour coded pills she’d left the night before, Laura walked to the door without opening it and lay her palm and cheek on the wood. A second rattling knock reverberated through her skin and Anthony whispered to her not to open it. Laura immediately felt scared; she wasn't used to visitors. Anthony wasn't drumming and she turned her head swiftly to catch him in the mirrors but they were empty. There was no more knocking from behind the door and she unlocked it, opening it carefully and peering outside. The door suddenly slammed shut past her face, nearly smacking her hard. The hand that pushed it was hers but it felt too strong and masculine, like someone else’s forearm was sewn to her body. Anthony didn't want the door opened. Laura was trapped in the few small rooms she occupied every day; she’d forgotten she wasn't allowed to leave. Anthony walked Laura back to the living room where she could take her pills. Anthony was drumming; a hard solid beat behind her eyes and Laura tried not to hum along. “Please stop it” Laura begged, to which Anthony returned to his place in one of the many mirrors encasing the room and merely looked at her, expressionless.
The drumming grew louder and more constant, Anthony’s own heartbeat maybe, she thought. Laura wanted her roommate to return and offer her pills to make it stop; Laura’s own private nurse and caregiver, but she had been gone for hours, or maybe days.
Dun dun dun.
Anthony made it difficult to judge time. Dun dun dun. Unnerving and unvarying he would only drum louder, until the day Laura would let him take her, dun dun dun dun, to which she would refuse, her resistance however, always wavering.
With chilling uncertainty, Laura faced the mirror, expecting Anthony to be there, but he was gone and yet the drumming continued; the signature he left of his presence was tormenting and unending. Dun dun dun.
Laura turned to her pills which were sorted by colour for each day; blue for Monday, orange for Wednesday and so on. She tried to remember what day it was but the drumming made it so hard. Anthony offered the white ones, meant for Sunday; Laura wanted the red ones because they were pretty.
Drumming and silent whispering filled Laura’s head as she argued. Two pills were taken per day, according to their colour, their purpose being to silence the drums and disrupt her pretty lights.
Dun dun dun.
After seconds or minutes or hours of arguing, Laura realized Anthony was right; they all contained the same effect. Take them all and one pair will be the correct dose. Laura felt sure this was right; sure this was a smart decision and felt proud of herself. She dumped fourteen pills in the palm of her hand, carefully plucking two at a time and swallowing them, Anthony watching her all the while. Frightening her still, she refused to look at him and kept gulping pills. Eventually her palm was empty and the drumming began to die.
Laura hesitated for a moment, her pale eyes locked on the front oak door past the empty mirrors. Taking small steps forward and feeling excited, she reached the end of the hall and gripped the brass handle, her stomach feeling nauseated with excitement.
Laura stepped outside and smiled brighter than the sun that warmed her face, her bare toes curling into the sharp gravel as she stepped out in the fresh afternoon air, for some reason her stomach was churning, perhaps she thought, from excitement at the prospect of finally returning to the world. Laura continued to walk rather aimlessly, the blue clouded sky circling and swirling above her. She began to stumble, causing passersby to comment cynically on her apparent drunken state and look at her quite disdainfully. The clouds continued to spin in encouragement for Laura to follow them, to ignore the acid like ache in her stomach, before allowing her to rest her gaze on the beautiful colours in front of her. She started to feel scared; she’d taken more than enough pills to make the coloured lights go away, and yet there they were. And where they appeared, Anthony always remained close by. But he was still gone, silent; trapped in the mirrors back home, perhaps. Laura felt relief swim over her before she fell to the ground, hitting the pavement with a rough thump. She felt her stomach rise up to meet her throat and threw up, choking, all over her shirt. She couldn't tell what was swimming anymore, her head or the clouds. She smelt vile and could feel her stomach burning her throat and her head was too heavy to move. She vomited again, this time an artistic vision of colours and blood. Strangers, the ones who’d called her drunk, crowded around her, crouching and holding her sideways, letting her puke some more, even though she could feel that what mess littered the pavement had already burned through the lining of her stomach. Laura began to cry, she wasn't used to this kind of fiery agony and she wished Anthony would drag her back home, slam the door in her face and protect her through the mirrors. An ambulance was called, a stranger muttered. It’d be here in a few minutes. Laura was losing focus and she found it difficult to make out any words among the mutters. Her tears poured over her nose and left temple and she began to choke again, her medicine induced silence filling her head and clouding her thoughts. Bile was rising up to meet her throat again and this time she tried to swallow it, to keep her silence if she could, inside her. Retching this time, Laura felt it burning her airways and the hands around her shook her trying to make her okay. Her lungs and throat continued to burn and she couldn't inhale deep enough. Something burned and blocked her airway, and she shook as hands fought hands above her, each one trying to pat her back, whether to save her life or congratulate her on dying Laura couldn't tell, but as colours started to fade, coherent thoughts did too and only the burning sensation that drowned her could be discernible. Laura didn’t know if her eyes were shut or not, but everything around her had become black, and Laura, no longer feeling the rough gravel beneath her or the warm hands that enveloped her, faded out, hearing only a soft, rhythmic drumming.
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