Flashback:
The skies were ablaze, red hot, white in anger and blinding. The road was paved with the sweet colour of disappointment, bones of the past on either side, marking the borders, and borders were never to be crossed.
Her eyes saw the raging sea beneath, and her body reacted with longing. To be hiding under the waves, chocked by salt and drowning. She stood still, her brown dress flowing cautiously with the wind, her feet touching the dry bones lining the borderlines.
Before she even knew it, she was running towards the edge, crossing the borderline with no second thought, and flying into the welcoming sea beneath. There was a moment, she was suspended within the skies, it seemed. The rage within them calmed the rage within her.
Cold overtook, and her breath gave away. Darkness overthrew and her spirit gave way.
Sweat, on her forehead, under her arms, everywhere. Her eyes flew open, wide-awake, and alert. The moonlight poured in from the small opening that could hardly be called a window, it painted the white padded room with different shades of gray. The wind outside was fierce, scowling and threatening.
Her dreams were scattered, all bits and pieces of some far memory or some face that meant something. This was no different; she had flung herself over a cliff once or twice…
She sat still, staring at the white ceiling, counting the cracks until she sleep took her again.
Blue couch, white washed walls, colours that are meant to calm. All scientifically proven of course, it’ll take more than just colours to clam the insane. Doctor Cashtener sat in a chair across from her. He smiled, she only gave him a blank expressionless face to greet.
“So, tell me about these dreams Violet?” concern.
“I don’t want to talk about them.” hate.
“Do they scare you?” surprise.
“No.” Uncertainty
“What is it then?” more concern
Violet just smiled back, mockingly.
“I know you’ve been having nightmares since you arrived. The nurses hear you every night, screaming for-“
“MICHEAL.” More screaming.
“Yes, Michael.” He could see the emotions, vigorous, directing the muscles on her face, shame and despair.
“Micheal..” she lowered her eyes. Shame.
“Who is Micheal?” he asked her softly
“Sand.”
The word drifted in the darkness of her silence.
“Sand. Soft white sand, I want to bury myself in it. I want to hide underneath the ocean…” but she could only hide in the corners of her dopamine enhanced mind.
He sighed
“night, night.. here comes night. I hate the night, the nights were always the worse. Always.” She whimpered.
It was day. But there was no use trying to tell her that, she was gone… for now.
“Violet, where are you?”
“Wheres anyone… In the middle of the ocean, on a little sinking ship, in the ocean, in the ocean.”
“Violet-”
“DON’T CALL ME THAT!”
Rage.
“DON’T YOU DARE EVER THINK I WONT FIND OUT, DON’T EVER THINK YOU CAN TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME! I WILL FIND YOU! YOU ARROGANT SON OF A-”
“Take who?”
She made a wild gesture at him, restraints caught her midway through the movement and the laws of physics caught up with her and pushed her backwards. They came in and took her away. Her voice killed the hallow silence and bounced off the green walls of the facility.
“DON’T TAKE ME THERE, NOT THE HOUSE ON THE HILL…”
“Not that house on a haunted hill” hysterical laughter
Jasper shuffled his feet, right and left, anxiety was taking over. Pale white blue like light drowned his office, it spilled over the books, and painted the walls. Everything looked dull and dead under the dying evening sun, even the countryside looked white washed outside of his window.
His eyes traced the even lines on the documents laying demandingly on his table, along with another high stack of patient files.
There was a recognizable knock on his door, his secretary walked in holding a light blue folder, another comforting colour. She smiled, not so comforting.
“Dr. Cashtener, I need you to sign these papers, please?” She said this with her not so comforting smile held in place.
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