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Rought Draft- Chapter Three |
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Whomever phrased coming out from being knocked out as a series of floral colors and waking up from a deep sleep...
Well, August never had read the words, but if he had, he would be feeling very resentful at them for the moment for misleading him. Waking up from being knocked out was simply, to put it straight, painful. If he'd known the word throbbing instead of the gesture, that's what he would have used for his head right now. A large mass of pain centered in his upper skull, particulairly around his right eye. If he'd been a stranger to such blows, then that hit would have been deadly to someone as malnourished as him.
But he wasn't a stranger to such blows. Maybe not ones of that strength, but the fact remained. And so when the shocking pain assaulted his consciousness, he did a trick he learned; 'staring up', so to speak, at the roof in his head, and letting his mind assess the situation.
He smelt disinfectents in the air, the sort that they'd used to clean the inside of the suitcase he'd traveled in. That meant the disinfectants weren't cheap; while in his hiding spot, he'd noted that while the family did not splurge, their actions marked them as the sort to give alot of that valuable paper away. And if that scent was here, that meant it wasn't the station where the uniforms rested and kept the barred cages, because the uniforms did not have enough paper. If they had, they wouldn't keep going around adding more and more people who were easier and easier for August to flee from.
He heard past the rustling of the sheets beside him wailing; and the sounds of people murmering to eachother back and forth, the walls echoeing the statements back to his own ears. Too quiet, dispite the sounds of depression and sorrow and pain. Too silent to be the ever chattering uniforms, ever so important and demanding.
Those two senses were all he had to use. Touch was a dangerous one, since it would put him back in his head, and all he could taste was the metallic proof that his right eye was bleeding. Sight was the one he relied on, but that might not be a good idea. Bright lights always blinded unwary eyes, he'd found.
He was saved from further deliberation as a sharp p***k assaulted his arm, and his mind wandered away from him again, abandoning him to the treacherous darkness that was unconsciousness.
" Young man, we apologize for what we did back there, but you do understand assaulting a police officer is illegal?"
Silence. Why were these people yattering, interupting the nice blankness with their infuriating realness? Oh yes, he remembered. Because he was real. Unlike usual, his mind was not quick to return to him, and so he did not bother to communicate. He never reacted without steady deliberation; at least, not after Shun.
Shun
A trigger word.
" Nurse, is he ...?"
" No, he's awake. See? His eyelids are moving. "
His mind reluctently dragged itself into gear, and suddenly he was up to speed, for the second time that day, though now the recall of memories and senses were faster then ever. His head didn't hurt as much, which was wonderful, and now past the dull ache he could come to a conclusion.
Those healing buildings. That had to be it. He'd never been inside one that he could remember, mind you, but he'd seen them from outside, and noticed patients wandering from them at random time. Those places where people came out, sometimes happy, sometimes crying and yelling words he could not understand. He used to watch them sometimes, wondering what they were like from the inside. Now he had his chance.
Curiousity forcing his eye open, a rather embaressing yelp was emmited once the lights hit his one working eye. He'd forgotten the rule at the most untimely of moments.
" ... and there are no signs of drugs in your system, either, so you must be a runaway. Who are your parents?"
Opening his eyes again, he forced them to stay so until the lights dimmed, and all that was around him was visable. Ignoring the officer, though he knew he would have to apologize after finishing with gathering his bearings, August blinked a few times against the now faintly dimmed light.
"Holy ********, Takamoshi, his eyes are red!"
" They could be pink and purple for all I care, if he'd just pay attention!"
A few nervous chortles, the room was silent, and finally he had space to draw the last of himself together. Logic was hard to work with when battered from each sense. Licking his lips and revelling at the strange minty taste; what had they done while he was asleep; he shifted and tilted his head to the side in his usual fashion, staring blankly at the police.
" ... ********, he retarded?"
"Stop swearing, Toshi, you idiot."
His fingers rubbed against the rough fabric of the blanket. He had to give them something to work with, or they'd never go away. What did he have that he understood. He knew they wanted his name. But at the moment, it was hard to recall... oh, yes.
" August."
He rolled it off of his tongue, a sort of murmer. His voice, his only one had once said, sounded like he could sing each word. That was how he'd memorized his only one's name. He'd always been after him to say it. They'd be at the bus, and he would ask him for good luck. August would make the gesture, but he would shake his head, and grin, motioning for him to please say it. He never forgot to say please. Shun.
Most people would find that odd. He was sure of it. He'd never seen another creature repeat a name over and over under their breath, trying to stick it in thought.
He'd had to do the same with his own name. That he hadn't enjoyed as much. That was how he knew his name was this, however.
" What?"
"It's foreign, I guess. I think it's a month."
" No, no, can't be. His name?"
"Weird name."
" Maybe some tourists kid?"
The babble was getting fainter now, and exhausted, August felt his eye sight begin to fade. The two uniforms were shoed out, and he allowed his grasp on his mind to lapse for the third consecutive time, and this time, not with the intention of returning awake any time soon. Both he and his mind had to be rested to decide what to do after this.
I apologize for the length and the rather pointlessness of this chapter, but August wanted his every trial put in it. Later chapters won't be this confusing. It was also getting harder to understand him today, seeing as he's mourning. I've noted he doesn't notice the difference in genders; he's wearing a dress.
A Candied Apple · Tue Nov 04, 2008 @ 10:11pm · 0 Comments |
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