The Obdurate Avidity
Chapter 30

 By -TurtleBoy-

 

 

            The night felt hollow and cold, my bed seemed empty and uncomfortable.  Thoughts of the day’s events replayed themselves over and over like a scratched CD begging to be put out of its misery.  I couldn’t make sense of everything happening, there were just too many questions and too much coincidence to be dismissed as just that.  Random events all filled with skepticism and mystery, Kevin and Caleb, their father and the sudden cluster of homes to be built upon their arrival; now the attack of a killer toad against poor Alex’s face.  Images of Alex’s, once beautiful, complexion drenched in blood and tears as his father ran him toward their car to take him to the hospital.  Mr. Peters hadn’t seemed scared or concerned, or at least, not as much as he appeared to be angry and bitter.

 
            His priorities seemed to be pointed towards his obvious suspicions regarding being lied to rather than the welfare of his own bleeding child.  Everything happening seemed to point towards Austin, or at least involve him somehow. Was everyone so completely wrapped up in their own neglectful perceptions to take notice of Austin’s, all too perfect, innocence?  Was I honestly the only person who took any notice of his disgusting, almost insulting, smiles?  Or was I imagining all this… maybe reading too much into everything?  God I don’t know, this is all just too much.

 
            Darkness consumed the room, not even the moon dared to shine its soothing reflection; the gloom of night seemed to add to my restlessness.  Staring up towards where the ceiling should be was only more darkness.  I could barely see my hands when placed only inches from my face.  Being forced to blink endlessly, as my eyes attempted to adjust to the blackness; causing them to become sore due to the strain.  Thoughts hitting me from every angle of my mind, I was forced into a sudden blankness.  Something wasn’t right; this wasn’t right, this very moment and everything disguised in its emptiness and the fact that “I” could not see…

 
            My mind fled of all reason, obscuring my common sense; thoughts misleading me, nervously, cautiously; the room it had no sounds, the air vents, my dad’s snoring - my mom’s snoring.  There was no smell, not of anything.  The only thing I could feel was the beating of my own heart; the rhythm of its thumping quickly becoming an obsession.  My only connection to life was hitting against the insides of my chest in an uproar of uncertainty; I pressed my hands heavily against my chest, hoping somehow to gain control over it.  Every beat became more and more foreign to me; to the point where the feeling in my chest was no longer in sync with the feeling in my hands.  I tried to remove my grip, attempted to end this paranoia, but my hands unable to oblige.  My heart was pounding fiercely yet the feeling against my hands was calm.  Nausea over took me through a panic as I began to choke and heave with dryness against a burning throat.  Being both comforted by a familiar feeling and alarmed by the wetness now soaking against the back of my head; a thick consuming liquid, oozing itself slowly into my hair and neck, its strangely familiar warmth creeping against my skin.

 
            There it was: something above me, a dim light.  My attentions were drawn to it like moths to a flame, my relieved sight relishing in its invasion.  The liquid began to rise at an alarming pace towards my ears, getting deeper by the second; a taste of something metallic absorbed into my tongue.  I knew this taste all too well, it was the taste of blood, but my mouth had not opened.  I found myself staring without regard; the light was twitching, now becoming brighter, maybe even closer.  My arms began to move but my hands would not allow departure away from this deception of life that they had been laid upon.  I could still feel the beating heart below my hands, now sure that with out a doubt it was not mine; that much I knew for sure.  As the liquid began to soak and flood into the canal of my ears, I tried to scream, but no noise escaped me.  Feeling my self becoming slowly consumed by this plague of liquid I struggled to separate from whatever hold this obstruction had on me.

 
            The light above me began to gently pulsate as it grew and obscured into a blur of red and black, soon taking on a more complex form.  My hands began to burn and my flesh felt as if it was melting.  As the light mangled and distorted itself it became clearer to me while moving closer.  Its pulsating form had taken on the shape of a boy, one that was all too familiar to me.  Feeling my face fall pale I struggled to free myself once again; this time with more urgency, but it was of no use all my efforts only worsened the situation.  My hands still burning, they began to throb and sting, crawling slowly up my wrists.  Something happened, I moved, or forgot to move, but my hands in their entirety were pulled deep into the obstruction which they had been fused against; the beating within its cavity, now being held by my unwilling hands.  The burning increased and shot up my arms, as steam began to rise from the warm liquid which was now consuming my chin.  Wetness began to drip from the ceiling due to the build of condensation, increasing the steam and causing the air to grow thick; the entity above, now so close I could smell its breath.  It reached with a wiry arm and slid its fingers against the side of my cheek, almost passionately.

 
            My hands began to shake harshly, like I was strangling someone.  The foreign body, in which my hands were trapped inside, now fully submerged under the liquid stirred and splashed causing my face to fall underneath the steaming broth.  My arms were lifted upward and lashed around violently, increasing the burn’s intensity against my hands.  It moved forward, in a sudden jolt, splashing the steaming liquid in all directions.  The entity screamed in disgust, becoming enraged, it threw back its head and crashed its hands deep into its own face.  Screaming turned to laughter as it plunged towards me, its hands pierced through my skull but I still could not scream.  Bubbles escaped my nostrils as my head dropped deeper into the burning liquid; my arms still thrusting and turning in all directions, I was suddenly pulled away from the grips of the floating entity.

 
            Being dragged at a rapid speed, I became disorientated.  Muffled screams followed close in behind, my shoulder was smashed hard into the doorway of my room as my body continued to flee.  The sound of a doors hallow slam crashed in behind me, and then once more.  Screams travelled through the door, vibrating against my bones.  Weightlessness overtook me and gravity summoned me all at once.  Falling to the floor, my hands were released.

 
            Confusion and adrenaline pumped in unity through my veins as I pushed myself upward and rolled over.  The room was dark but the ground was cold and hard, which was when I realized that my body was soaked in a thick coating that felt of slime and grease.  With the realization that I wasn’t breathing, I heaved my lungs to life; a hot liquid forced its way upward causing me to choke through panic.  Falling back down, toward the floor, feeling my body slap against a hard wetness I laid still, allowing the coolness to absorb into my skin.

 
            As the confidence of my own ability to breathe returned, I climbed to my feet and stepped cautiously towards the door.  Reaching out nervously, I felt my fingertips up and along the wall until finding the switch; I turned on the light.  My eyes closed in shock as the sudden brightness had caught me off guard.  With a squinted view, I turned back into the room; I was in the bathroom, alone.  A puddle of red glistening liquid consumed half of the tiled floor, which alerted me towards the mirror.  Feeling my stomach knot and turn over, I ran towards the toilet and threw up the lid.  Thick red liquid fell and spread across the toilets bottom and the water pushed upward, refusing to blend with intrusion which was evacuating my heaving belly.

 
~“Adrian.”~  A whisper caressed the walls of the room, coming from all directions.

 
“Who’s there!?” I demanded, turning my head and scanning the room.

 
~“You must.”~ The voice filled my head causing tears to well in my eyes.

 
“What do you want!?”  I screamed and fell to my knees, my hands fell into the red puddle; it was blood.

 
            I couldn’t control it, couldn’t make it back to the toilet.  Rocking my head forward, I shot streams of tainted liquid to the floor, gasping for air every chance that I had.  My heart sunk and hid deep into my intestines as I dropped to the floor, but I couldn’t rest, I couldn’t fall asleep.  Anger consumed me, and I flung out my limbs in all directions while sliding along the floor in spasms filled with grief; crashing my fists and heels heavily onto the floor, filling the room with an echoed noise of thumps and splashes.  Tears streamed with such intensity and commitment, they had penetrated through my blood stained cheeks and were dripping freely down my neck.

 
“LEAVE ME ALONE!!!”  I screamed, forcing myself to my knees, “GO AWAY!!!” The veins in my neck felt like they were going to burst…

 
            I almost stopped, I almost allowed myself to calm down; but my hands, supporting me on the floor, blackened and raw, half-covered in the bloody puddle where I knelt.  “YOU SON OF A BITCH! … WHAT DO YOU WANT!”  Screaming with every ounce of air in my lungs, and feeling my throat become sore, I climbed once again to my feet.

 
            Ripping off my clothes from what ever angle I could manage and chucking the torn fragments to the ground, my pores had attempted to sweat, but were clogged with dried and sticky blood.  Kicking the ball of my foot against the floor, I flung a towel off the rail where it had hung and dropped it over the blood covered floor.  Dropping to my knees, I began to scrub.

 
~“Adrian.”~

 
            The voice made me feel sick once more, wouldn’t allow me to concentrate, “STOP IT!  GO AWAY!”  I screamed.

 
“Adrian!” The voice screamed.

 
“NO!.... GO…  a - WAY!” I screamed back, pressing the towel hard into the floor and scrubbing with all that my arms would allow.

 
“ADRIAN!”  The scream was followed by continuous pounding against the door.


            I climbed to my feet and opened the cabinet under the sink, if I was ever going to get this off the floor I was going to need some form of cleaner.

 
“ADRIAN!?”  The pounding became louder but was now more drawn out.

 
“WHAT…  DO.. YOU.. WANT FROM ME!!!” My screaming became staggered and raw; the taste of blood and phlegm crawled against the back of my throat.  Grabbing a bottle of bleach I turned and walked my now shaking body towards the puddle.  Turning the lid, I dropped it to the floor and turned over the container.  The bleach pored in heavy chugs, spreading against the floor and lifting the pool of blood to the chemical’s surface.  I dropped to my knees once again and continued to scrub, making sure to spread some bleach up my arms and over my face so I could get clean as well.

 
“ADRIAN OPEN THE DOOR!”  Screamed the voice, but it was different… Almost like my Dad.  No, I wont fall for that…  I’m dirty… this floors a mess…

 
“FUCK OFF!!!”  I screamed and crammed my knuckles into the burning towel, circling it just right.

 
            A thud crashed throughout the room, causing me to look forward, “NO!!!”  My heart jumped and I slid backwards across the floor towards the shower, “GET…! NO!!” I flung out my arms as the entity came toward me, its repulsive slime dripping onto my clean floor, screaming at me with anger.  I tried to fight it, but it wouldn’t work, its power was too strong.  Its arms wrapped around me, consuming me in warmth as it chanted something in my ear, whispered softly to my soul…

 
“It’s okay Adrian…. Everything’s going to be fine.” The voice said softly, almost in concern.  Tears blurred my vision and my skin burned all over, even my eyes were burning.  I wanted to yell out in pain, but the warmth was so soothing, so calming.

 
“There’s bleach everywhere!” Said another voice, it was deeper, frantic with confusion.

 
“The blood… I got to clean the blood.”  I said with determination, trying to raise to my feet.

 
“No honey, don’t move.  There’s no blood, its okay Adrian… Your Dad will take care of it.

 
            Everything seemed so familiar, I couldn’t tell passed the sting of my eyes, but I felt safe…  What was I doing here, why is this happening?  My body began to rock, back and forth, as the soothing figure that was cradling me in their arms hummed a gentle tune, a tune that I knew…

 
“Mom?”  Every emotion that I had every experienced consumed me all at once.  My body began to shiver, almost convulse.

 
“Yes, it’s Mom.”  Her voice trembled; I turned my head and looked up at her, through my still blurred eyes. I focused as well as I could at the profile of here face, her chin though distorted with my sight, was shaking uncontrollably.  I tried to reach for her, to comfort her and make everything better.

 
            My hand ventured slowly upward, heavy like dense rubber, the world began to spin and my lungs were burning.  Loosing focus, I became ill to the stomach once more, but the blackness was too strong, the spinning too fast.

 
            It was quiet, but not silent; birds were chirping outside and the trucks were roaring continuously.  I could feel the sun on my skin, but everything was dark; I couldn’t open my eyes, there was something in the way.

 
“MOM!!!” I screamed, unsure of why.

 
“Adrian.” I heard a soft voice from beside me, “I’m right here.”

 
“Mom?”

 
“Yes Sweetie, I’m right here.”

 
“I can’t see…”

 
“It’s okay Sweetie, just rest, you got bleach in them.  The doctor wanted to make sure those bandages were kept on for at least forty-eight hours.”  Her voice was soothing, calm and clear.

 
“But… They feel fine.” I assured her.

 
“How about the rest of you?  You feeling okay?”  She asked with concern.

 
“Yea, I feel fine… Honest.”  I assured her some more, “Do I have to stay in bed?”

 
“No, but.. You might want to just rest a while, just to be sure.”  She replied, only this time with a tone of uncertainty.

 
“This is stupid!”  I shouted, a little louder than I had intended.

 
“Adrian, just calm down, you’re fine.  Just relax for now, let me fix you something to eat, you must be hungry as hell.”


            The moment she said those words I felt my stomach ache and growl, very tempting, “Actually… That’s a good idea.”

 
“Of course it is.  I’ll go fix you a sandwich; it’ll be easier to eat.”  I heard the squeal of a chair and gentle footsteps crossing the floor on departure.  I heard a long squeaking noise in the distance, which told me she had reached the second stair down.  Lifting my self so that I was sitting up, I threw my hands to my face.  My hands… They were covered in something too.

 
            I ripped off the fabric from my head, unwinding it as fast as I could.  Dropping the gauze to my lap I removed two cotton patches that were taped to my eyes.  I must have opened them too quickly; the sunlight scorched my pupil and forced me to close my eyes instantly.  With determination and more caution, I slowly parted my eye lids; allowing myself to adjust gradually.  I could see!  I was fine, what the hell…  My hands were covered in gauze, redness soaking through them, but they didn’t hurt.

 
            The blood was soaked through, some pieces crusted to a brownish tint.  My fingers were covered, so I used my teeth; gripping tightly I pulled the taped end loose and tugged it free.  Twirling my hand and unraveling it from its confinement, letting it fall to the bed.  As I became closer to the end, it grew harder to discard; the blood had dried and formed itself almost like a cast which was fused against my skin.  Pulling the remaining gauze free of its grip to me, I examined my hand closely; it was fine, covered in a thickened clump of half dried grossness, but fine none the less.  This encouraged me to start on the other hand….

 
“Adrian! What are you doing?!”  I heard from the doorway; I whipped my head towards the voice, to see my mom holding a plate in one hand and a glass of milk in the other.

 
“Mom.. I’m fine.”  I told her in guilt.

 
“You… I… I thought you promised?”  Her disappointment was obvious, she even appeared to be angry.

 
“I’m sorry… I just figured, you know…”  I tried to look innocent, even fluttered my eyelashes at her, she just tilted her head and placed the plate and glass on the dresser.

 
“Adrian, can’t you for once do as the doctor asks?”  She walked over to me and sat down on the bed.  Reaching for my half wrapped hand, she helped me remove the gauze.

 
            Looking up at her in surprise, she didn’t look back.  She still looked grief stricken and uneasy, but the anger seemed to have been left at the door, “I’m sorry Mom, really.”  I had never felt so guilty, how do mothers do that?

 
“How are your eyes?  Are they bothering you?”  She asked softly.

 
“No, I swear, they feel great… er, fine.”  I assured her.

 
“Well…  It never ceases to amaze me how tolerant you are to pain. You don’t get that from me… or your father for that matter.”  She glanced at my eyes, only for a moment, then looked away quickly, “You’re hands… I could have sworn…” She stopped and looked to the floor.

 
“Mom?  Is something wrong?” I tried to grab her attention, but she avoided my gesture and just turned away from me, “What did I do?  Did I do something wrong?”

 
            She sighed with a jittery whimper, “No,” dropping her head and lifting her hands to her face, “You.. You’d tell me if…” She stopped to breathe in as a staggered gasp of shuttering air smacked up against her lips, “We never should have moved here.”

 
“Mom? Wait, what?” She caught me off guard, was she crying?  I didn’t know what to do, or how to reply.  I figured I’d try to comfort her; lifting my hand and resting it on her shoulder, a rush of cold air escaped her throat and she flinched away, as if she had been touched by the devil himself.  I couldn’t speak; I didn’t know how to react.  It was like she was afraid of free, “Mom? What did I do?  I’m sorry.  I said I’m sorry!”  I felt tears rolling down my cheeks and my face felt warm and flush.

 
“Just.. no.. Go wash your hands.”  She dropped her hands to her sides and supported her balance against the bed with her arms, “You’ve got to eat.”  She got up from the bed, and with out another look, or even glance, she left the room.

 
“What the fuck?”  I felt my chin quiver against my lower lip, by voice pitched high and could only climb out with a labored breathe.  I was shocked and felt revolting to the eye, I felt hated, or even loathed.

 
            Whipping my legs over the side of the bed, I rushed to my feet and ran towards the bathroom.  The door to the balcony was wide open, as were all the windows.  The bathroom reeked of bleach; the smell was so strong it caused my throat to burn and my eyes to water.  Approaching the sink, I turned on both taps and soaked my hands; allowing the water to loosen the filth.  Grabbing the soap I scrubbed it violently into my hands, spreading its lather with determination.

 
“HOLY SHIT!”  I peered at myself in the mirror, jumping back in a fright.  My eyes!  They were red, stained and dark.  What have I done?  What was I thinking?  I diverted my gaze, but couldn’t resist, I needed the disgust, I had to see myself as my mother had.

 
            Standing straight, I stepped back to the mirror and stared myself right in the eyes.  They were harshly red where they were supposed to be white, nearly black around the edges.  The iris was a harsh yellow and almost green as you went inward, but the pupil; that was what scared me most.  It wasn’t quite circular, and not completely black.  Like there was more depth to it, a harsher glare reflecting off of it, in an oval shape pointing slightly on both the top and bottom.  With every blink, they would turn against the iris, making the points horizontal when my eyes began to close.  The front of my hair was a close shade of white and looked dry and crusty. Was it possible I did this to myself?  There’s no way….  Last night, it had to be real; I wouldn’t do this to myself.

 
*THUD* The door slammed shut… It must have been the wind.. *SHOOF*

 
            I glanced towards the tub; the window had slid shut as well.  Everything inside of me told me to leave now, but my eyes, they were too alarming to look away for too long.

 
            The room fell cold and the mirror began to fog with steam from the running taps, as my face distorted in its moisture I felt something brush up against the back of my neck.

 
“Air.” I whispered to myself, trying to convince my own nerves, still noting the closed exits.  I stepped back from the sink and slowly started towards the door, my feet were heavy.  They wouldn’t lift right; they seemed to stick to the floor as I walked.  My attentions were drawn to a squealing noise near the sink; the mirror had opened and was dripping with condensation.  The drops of water seemed to defy gravity against the glass, as the fell, the turned and went upward, than down again.  The squeaking noise continued, as the mirror turned back to its closed position.  I turned myself, my feet feeling light and in control once more; I approached the mirror, where the drops of water had formed something against the mirror.

 
“You must?’  I read softly, as thoughts of the other night raced back to my minds surface, “I must what?”  I spoke louder, but with no reply.

 
            The silence angered me, so in turn I extended my hand to the mirror and wiped it dry, “AHH!” I screamed and fell backwards to the floor after the reflection of a bloodied face stood behind me.  It had scars ripped deeply across its face, the blood still dripping from its wounds, his wounds. HIS wounds!  It was a boy! The boy.. I’ve seen him before, here… Last night?.. No.. “What do you want?” I pleaded below my breath.

 
            There was no answer.  Of course there was no answer, that would be too easy wouldn’t it.  I felt useless, angry and ugly.  I didn’t know what to do, nor was I sure of what I was supposed to.  The vent made a clicking noise and began to throw cool air against my back; I shivered instantly as a strange feeling of relief crossed over me.  I felt a smile spread across my face and even though confused, embraced it.  Climbing to my feet I walked over to the window and opened it back up; stripping from all my clothes, I turned on the shower, stepped inside and welcomed its soothing heat.

 
            Dinner was quiet; Dad was reviewing tomorrow’s plans and Mom was sliding peas across her plate with the clanking use of her fork.  Me, I was working on my third helping of ribs.  They were marinated in some kind of tangy barbecue sauce, just a little spicy, enough to allow for a gentle glow on your tongue.  It wasn’t so much that I loved the food, so much as, couldn’t quite fill my self up.  Everything I ate just felt so good as it settled in my stomach; with every mouth full I could feel my tongue greedily absorb as much of the juices as possible.  I could feel with every bite, every swallow and my body taking in everything it was worth.  Tingling throughout my veins and relieving my muscles.  This feeling and this feeling alone could just as well be the best benefit of this curse or disease or… gift?  I could almost determine where all the vitamins and proteins were being distributed; it was amazing feeling my body so acutely and with an almost understanding to what it was doing.

 
“Adrian?” Dad dropped his pen on the table, looking towards me with concern, “Are you okay?”

 
            I wasn’t sure how to react, I felt great.  What was I supposed to say?  “Yea, I’m good… why?”

 
“I’ll… get you a napkin.”  Mom scooted back in her seat and rushed towards the kitchen.

 
“What?”  I asked, but his look said it all; he was horrified with me… or something close.  Mom appeared at my side, holding a damp cloth.


“Here, Adrian, wipe your face.”  She said in a blank tone, turning after I had taken the cloth from her offering hand, and left towards her bedroom.

 
            Dad watched her leave the room, his face seemed burdened, “Don’t worry Bud, she just doesn’t like seeing you getting yourself hurt so much.  Now wipe your eyes, they’re leaking pretty bad.”

 
            Reaching my fingers to my face, it felt sticky and moist.  Drawing my hands back away so that I could see what it was; a thick liquid, it was slimy looking and colored a mucus yellow with red spots and streaks, almost like veins.  I looked to my Dad in fear, no wonder his expression was so… strange, “Dad?  What’s wrong with me?”


            His face drew a blank; his eyes were hollow, almost dead.  He picked up his pen and calmly started viewing the blueprints which were spread across the table, “Dad?”  He didn’t answer, instead he looked up at me and smiled; the same goofy smile he gave me when he had first gotten his ride-on lawnmower.

 
“Adrian.”  I heard my mom from the hall, calling me softly from around the corner, “Come here dear.”


“Mom?”  I replied, “What’s going on?”  I dropped my hands to the table and pushed myself upwards.

 
“ADRIAN!”  She screamed from the hall.

 
“I’m coming Ma.”  My heart felt uneasy… They knew about me, shit, were they were probably gonna kill me.

 
”ADRIAN!”  Her voice was different, still I made my way to the hall, I tried to turn on the light, but it flickered rapidly and with a click it died, my vision… it still wasn’t working right…  ~”Adrian.”~ She said in a whisper, I turned the corner cautiously and my Dad began to laugh uncontrollably.

 
            The lights flashed again and the blackened silhouette of my mother came towards me, her movements looked as if she was experiencing a seizure.  The lights stopped again leaving nothing but emptiness in front of me, I stepped closer; hearing a scream I jumped back, crashing into my Dad as he grabbed my shoulders with a strength that I couldn’t surpass.  A noise of whispers circled in the darkness before me, my Dad laughing softly as his fingers tore through my skin.  Louder and louder, the whispers called for me, repetitive and drawn out; like a dozen children were singing in the distance.  I heard a heavy thud, the lights flashed once more, as mother threw herself at me with a knife; falling into my chest with ease, she looked at me in confusion and guilt.  But it was false, a smile began to stain her face and her eyes began to bleed from the corners of her eyes; she looked at me with a hard glare that could only be taken as terrifying, she licked her lips slowly and took one step backwards allowing her body to rock gently, ~”You must.”~

 
            I jumped and rolled, something was coming towards me which was followed by a fluttering sound.  My eyes were out of focus and everything was quiet, I felt around the floor where I had fallen.  There was carpet and fabric over top of it, maybe a sheet.  I pushed my eyes shut and gave them a long rub; with a squint I reopened my eyes to survey my situation.  The room was empty but it was mine, my sheets spread out across the floor as I sat half sprawled towards my dresser facing the bed where I must have fallen.  Was everything a dream?

 
            Climbing to my feet I hurried through the hallway towards the bathroom where everything had occurred.  The smell of bleach was there, but it was faint, as it usually would be after my mother had cleaned.  I turned to and saw a pail without water and damp looking sponge sitting at the bottom in a small puddle.  I wasn’t completely convinced, so I stepped into the room cautiously.  Looking around for any evidence that would settle my inquiry, but there was nothing.  God, I hate Oakpoint…

 
            Turning slowly back towards the door, still feeling skepticism controlling my thoughts; I heard a gentle creaking noise, a familiar noise – over towards the sink.  My throat fell dry and an instant sweat spread across my face folding by a cool breeze which caused goose-bumps to spread across me.  I turned my head towards the medicine cabinet’s mirror, which had slowly swung open; smudges were spread across it, but they were hard to make out, I moved closer to get a better look.  The smudges were words, of course they were words, words which read, “You must.”

 
            I felt the familiar confusion take me over once again, questions never going away, everything always abstract and mysterious.  “What must I do?”  I whispered, “I must what?”  I spoke softly, but there was no answer.  It made me think.  Not so much think, but realize or something along that line, what if I was being answered… what if I just wasn’t listening?


Chapter 31