Season of the Witch

Part 6

I'm crying
Literally tears are flowing idk why I do this to myself
Word count: 1982
This one was surprisingly short to be honest
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You had to go upstate to Riverwell Psychiatric Hospital, and there was no way you were walking there, so you boarded the next bus out of town. It would be a long ride, and you encouraged Chuck to lay out and put his head in your lap. You stroked his hair and looked at Stella and Ramon daring them to question it, but they quickly looked away and sat next to each other instead.

Chuck fell into an un-tormented sleep at last and you felt relieved that he finally could have some peace. Looking at him in this state made everything feel normal for a fleeting second. You wished just taking the bus somewhere far away would solve all of your problems. As if you could just run away and never return to Sarah's territory and she'd leave you alone. Start a new life somewhere else with the boy you loved, call your mother and invite her to join you, to get out of that cursed town...Ramon and Stella could have a fresh start where no one knew their pasts...but it wasn't that simple. Nothing ever was.

The bus let you out at the gargantuan, looming white building with its immaculately-kept sterile lawns. Just looking at it filled you with dread and foreboding. As much as Chuck thought that his story was next, just being in this building's presence made you feel as though you would be next instead. You were almost sure of it, and didn't want to proceed, but knew you had to.

Chuck took your hand in his. You both were tempting the fates with this journey, and needed to rely on each other for strength. You all approached the receptionist's counter and let Stella do the talking. It seemed like she was going to be a hard sell, that you wouldn't get those records. An orderly in the background seemed more open to assisting though, and told the receptionist, "I think they put the files from the old hospital in the R.E.D. Room."

Chuck audibly gulped and you flinched. In his dream he described an entirely red room, and now this man was so kindly and jovially telling you that the red room existed. You couldn't bear to entertain the thought that this might be Chuck's dream coming to you live in technicolor.

You quickly glanced around for any large pale women, as Chuck asked, "The r-red room?" Stella and Ramon cast him a regretful look. The receptionist handed over a clipboard and told you that processing the request would take six to eight weeks.

"Two months? We don't even have two days!" You hissed as you all turned away from the counter.

"So much for that!" Chuck shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant but you could tell that he was secretly happy that it meant avoiding the red room. Meanwhile, Ramon looked around shiftily and noticed an open door where doctors and other men in suits were exiting. He looked meaningfully at Stella, nodding at the opportune interest and you wondered who he had been in another life, before he met all of you. He had a lighter, a knife, expert lockpicking skills, and was always looking for the advantage. He was definitely a survivor.

"Come on!" Stella grabbed Chuck's arm, but he tried to pinwheel back. You knew he didn't care about the breaking-and-entering aspect. She pulled him along again and he acquiesced, the four of you sliding past the adults exiting the locked door and entering the hallway within. You immediately had to dart down connecting hallways to avoid being caught.

"We are not going to the red room." Chuck growled when Stella announced her plans to find it.

"No, we are going to the red room." Stella urged back

"No, I'm not!" Chuck protested, and Stella snapped her fingers in an orderly fashion and yanked his arm to lead him down the hallway. In any other scenario, it would have been funny. Even at a time like this, she still had that motherly connection towards Chuck. But, since he reasonably feared his own demise, all of the fun was sucked out of your observation. You knew that you needed answers, that that was the best chance you had, but you hated to see him dragged along or to push him when he was so clearly frightened out of his mind. It crushed your heart to hurt him this way, to go along with it. "I told you about my dream! I don't want to go," he whined as you rounded another hallway.