Scene 01
I dared myself to close my eyes for the slightest moment, as if in attempt to feel the breeze which had slipped into the halls when I had walked inside. In the hilarity of it all, it was almost fun to pretend that I couldn't hear the sound of the moth's antennae browsing the creases in Terrence's face. Just outside of the sound of my pounding heart, I could barely make out the smallest moan escape Terrence's lips, winding its way into my ears and bouncing off of my skull from the inside.
"Shh," I said quietly, feeling the soft sh send shivers down my own spine. Terrence's fingers stuck together like glue, bending at the tips in the way that only he was capable of. I could see them quivering. I repeated my note of calm, unable to move my own self. The memories of the horrid moths crawling up my neck, their unmistakeale hissing at one another, but more importantly the feeling of letting go – I knew that all I could do for Terrence was watch and wait my turn.
"Ashley, we have to go." In her ever-Valerie mocking tone, the trickster who had come to be my best friend poked her head around the corner, unphased by the monster dominating Terrence's entire being.
"Val," I started, not sure what to do with my words next, "Val, can't we-"
"No, Ash," Val said insistently, her tone growing harsher, "We have to get out of here." I stared back at Terrence, watching his pink lips quiveer.
"Gabriel's here, Terrence," Valerie whispered, "Gabriel's here, we're going to get him out, alright?" Valerie kept silent for a moment, as if she knew how long an echo of her words would last in the increasngly mothed-up mind. "Goodbye, Terrence."
"Bye," Terrence whispered, using his hand to gesture us out the door, "Ash, you looked beautiful in those jeans. Can't say the same now, Ash. Everything is brown. It's all brown, Ashley. You've got to help me. It's all brown." Valerie clasped my hand and started to pull me away.
"Terrence!" I yelled out one last time before the doors slid to a close.As Valerie folded one arm protectively over my gut, I began my unique style of thrashing, that infamous for escaping even the most buff of the street-crawling pedophiles . Valerie was strong, though – stronger than I had recollected – and held me fast. It took one uncontrolled spasm, though, to tear me out of her grasp. I thought about beating my hands on the doors and screaming, but the grave gaze on Valerie's face kept me from running into the corner. Sighing away a tear, I bolted in the opposite direction.
I wanted to extend a warm thank-you to Oliver, owner of Overville, for the kind words on Sunday's post. Thanks for stopping by!
