anthony is a sassy malaysian desert (helpline) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2012-11-24 23:47:00 |
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3:20 Minutes ticked by, and still he couldn’t sleep. Anthony’s fingers hovered over the keypads of his phone, instinctively ready to text. He held back, though. He sat up, looking around to see if anyone was somehow still awake. He got up, stretched his limbs, and begun his walk. Anthony could almost taste the saltiness of the water as he took a deep breath. In the almost darkness he could make out the waves crashing into the sea. In comparison to earlier during the day, the beach was a lot quieter. It helped him think. His toes dug into the sand. Even when the night was accompanied by the wind, the ground still felt warm underneath his feet. Anthony picked up a stick that had been washed ashore, dragging it along as he walked, forming an uneven line in the sand. "No, gege -- you’ve never done anything like that." His sister’s voice, surprised and confused, spoke up on the other end of the call. “Are you sure?” he pressed on, wanting to believe her yet hesitant at the same time. His sister let out a familiar laugh, one that he was fond of, though it was laced with bewilderment. “I would remember if it actually happened to me.” Unsurprisingly, she had asked what had happened to him to think that he’d done something to hurt her. Anthony offered no explanation, because he didn’t know how to tell her about what had happened. Didn’t want to make her worried, either. It had taken him a good ten minutes to get her to stop crying when she realized that he was on the phone -- another five minutes to quell her anger for not calling them earlier. He stopped, arm moving to trace connected circles along the sand, much like the conversation he had with those who had been at the asylum with him. Were they awake, were they still sleeping, what was real? Could this normalcy be trusted? They were moving into a spiral with their questions and doubts. He wanted to break through the confusion. His sister reminded him of the real memories they had of visiting the river more than three years ago. It was different than what the nightmare had portrayed. They had been happy that day. Anthony believed it to be true because even now he could remember how he had felt. It was their last vacation they had together, before everything changed. Holding on to that memory -- among many others he had shared with his family -- was one of the ways he had used to cope with being away from home. And with those memories relived, he missed them more than ever, now. ”You’ll be back here in December, right?” A long pause from both sides. “Come home, gege.” Another question he wasn’t sure how to answer. From a distance, he could see the hotel building. He had retraced his steps with Claudia earlier, visiting each location and recollecting significant memories of the Swan trip. He could still remember the first time they reached there; the taste of some freedom after being stuck in IVI for so long. He dropped the stick, slowly making his way near the edge of the beach. Small waves rolled in, hitting the shore. His feet felt warm and sticky with the wet sand. He recollected the people he had healed. Headaches that went away, strength he restored, unbroken bones, mended cuts. But it wasn’t just that. The smiles that came afterwards, the relief, knowing that a family wasn’t about to be broken up, knowing that someone’s friend would still be there, knowing that someone’s future was still intact. That they were given a second chance. The leftover doubt was still be there. But the asylum doctor’s voice was becoming more and more distant with each passing day, drowned by the sound of his friends’ voices and, most importantly, his own. |