Fan Fiction ❯ Depth Perception ❯ The Awakening ( Chapter 4 )

Another chapter! Everyday I sit down at the P.C and have hardly any idea what's going to happen next, so here we go! The opening quote is from Thomas Mann. And by the way things get a whole lot weirder now!

 

 

Chapter 4: The Awakening

 

“The curse of a literary vocation begins by your feeling yourself set apart, in a curious sort of opposition to the nice, regular people; there is a gulf of ironic sensibility, of knowledge, of scepticism, disagreement, between you and the others; it grows deeper and deeper, you realise that you are alone”.

 

The pulsating fluorescent light, beaming down on me pierces through my eyelids, temporarily stunning me like a rabbit in the headlights. As I open them the rapid readjustment of my pupils sends a throbbing impulse into the back of my skull. Feeling a shooting pain rising from my collar-bone, passing up through shoulder-blade I roll over and pull myself up off the chafing, industrial concrete floor. As things begin to refocus a set of gloss tinted, cold black bars come harshly into view. I stumble over to the toilet to be sick.

 

At first the constant loss of memory seemed irrational, even frightening to me , especially the ending up in various foreign places; until the realisation of the hidden moments in between the gaps became un-shrouded, all is far between the lines of conventional reality.

 

As I am hunched down on the floor I gaze into the corner of the room where a spider is meticulously spinning its web. A supporting thread is hooked to a jutting stone, protruding from the chipped, pebble dashed surface of the wall; one is also hooked to the underbelly of the toilet. I watch the creature weave its organic silk as the long hair like legs gradually manipulate it into an intricate design. The insect sews in an octagonal pattern; at first, spiralling in and out of the star-shaped frame it had previously created; draining the thread from its very body. I am completely transfixed by this delicate art and see the process of the spider's web through to the very end. It soon rests upon the small hole in the centre of the newly created home, waiting…

 

I now intently sitting on the prison cell bed, waiting myself; several springs are exposed beneath the covers and the various stains of excrement and filth are immediately apparent on the overly white-washed walls. Shadows cast by the bars spread across the room in the wake of the morning sunlight, streaming in from the minute square window. I wonder how long I've been here for, having lost all trust in my perceptions now. This is soon revealed to me as a lean, feminine figure is guided in through the creaking cell doors, closing with a crash that echoes down the corridor.

 

“Lloyd?!” she screams with a measured intensity, what happened. Perplexed by the situation I scan my eyes up and down her profile, having no recognition of the woman whatsoever. Why is she calling me “Lloyd”? “Lloyd, it's me Iris, what happened to you?”, her tone now being more questioning, with a hint of suspicion. Before I can answer she runs towards me, locking me in a tight embrace. I do not withdraw and decide to play this out as the woman, Iris, has obviously paid my bail or at least got me out of this place, no matter how insane this act may seem I do not procrastinate in playing along.

 

Quickly thinking, I conclude that this woman may have some deranged romantic obsession of me, perhaps a prior buyer of a painting who has taken a fantasy too far? I act upon impulse. “Sorry, I hit my head … that's all, I don't remember so much you'll have to fill me in.” , I tell her, proud of my newly discovered acting skills. The effort to extract information seems to have worked and she seems taken in by the façade, giving this away by a look of immense pity in her eyes. “Oh God, what happened to you? Look let's go back to the apartment and I'll tell you what the officers said there, I can look after you there and anyway the guard said that they want us gone now!”. Apartment? Again her statement perplexes me. My apartment? What could she be talking about? “O.K…, Iris..” I say in a vaguely confused yet accepting tone. I soon come to a decision that this lucky escape, although with a probable maniac, is better than rotting in a prison cell, so I eventually concur with my racing thoughts and proceed to get up. “Well at least you remember your wife, poor thing”, she utters softly. Wife?! WIFE! How could someone possibly concoct such a sick story? A look of disgust is now obvious on my face, I try to cover it over and simultaneously think to myself, the woman should have done her research; the thought of any sort of marriage disgusts me. We soon join hands and leave.

 

“Lloyd the cars outside, hurry, this place is giving me the creeps”, Iris moans as we walk swiftly down the corridor, inmates taunting us as we go. An old man catches my eye, he is slumped against the barred cell door, gazing up towards the sealed window while emanating a monotonous moaning sound. His long grey hair hangs out of the metal cage and moves with the wind generated by Iris's swift passing. I look down on her, again surveying her figure, which is now lovingly pressed up against my waist. I would never go near a woman of her stature, younger than me and scantily clad, bad linguistic skills also indicating a lack of intelligence but then again I consider that I am indebted to this ostentatious lunatic so I decide to keep up the pretence until I at least find out what's going on.

 

We quickly advance into the main lobby of the building and as I glance away from Iris's intent and watchful gaze, catching a cold glare from the officer tending the desk, under my tongue I whisper; “fucking minimum wage bastard, don't even look at me!”, quoting one of my, now long lost, Abigail's drunken bar-time slurs. I begin to hold back as I watch Iris push open the heavy re-enforced glass doors, the exit to the station. They swing shut behind her and I observe her silhouette walking out onto the extravagantly tiled patio, extravagant for a regular police station. A taunting voice booms from behind me; “Off with ya!”. I quickly exit.

 

A red Audi T3 is waiting outside the building, engine running and projecting a powerful revving sound. The paint glistens softly in the evening sun, making me rapidly blink. Well I suppose things are starting to look up, I think to myself, a rich lunatic wants to abduct me at least. Not even knowing where I am I have no choice to go with her. Iris opens the locks with an audible bleep from an annoying piece of equipment. The car opens with four successive deep clicks and we soon enter the vehicle. It boasts a lavish interior, the type untouchable to a so called painter's “wife”. The car gently accelerates and speeds off into the distance.

 

I recline the seat and try to get some much needed rest, sinking into the cushion like upholstery I glance upwards, through the sun-roof and am captivated by a passing cloud. I shape it with my minds eye. This slow process of transformation gradually drifts me off to sleep, the first restful sleep I've had in days. Maybe things so far have just been a coincidental streak of bad luck, which is meant to come in threes, according to my knowledge at least. Momentarily, before I doze off a fleeting thought passes through my mind; maybe things might get better after all.

 

Wow things really are getting odd… I had to end this chapter early because if I go on too a lot would be given away and as you already know, I love my cliff-hangers! Please tell me what you think of things so far! Thanks for reading too, R/R. Nb. When reviewing please note that English and American spelling differ a lot.