Insane // Rafe Cameron

FOUR

The sunlight struggles to penetrate the heavy curtains, casting feeble rays into the dim room. Despite its efforts, I awaken to a disorienting haze.

Confusion washes over me as I realize I'm lying on the cold, uncomfortable bathroom floor. How did I end up here? What happened last night?

Many thought run through my head at once, not helping my unpleasant headache.

I try to piece together the fragments of my memory, but everything feels like a jumbled blur, and a relentless pounding ache throbs through my skull.

"Ouch..." I murmur, my voice barely rising above the noise in my head.

My hand instinctively reaches for the back of my head, where I find a tender bump—definitely a sign of something that went horribly wrong.

Did I blackout? The thought sends a shiver down my spine. This can't be good.

With a lot of effort, I push myself up from the chilly tiles, but as I do, a loud, incessant beeping distorts my vision, making everything feel surreal.

Frantically, I reach for the door, desperate to steady myself against the chaos swirling around me.

"Shit," I curse under my breath, frustration mingling with fear.

The beeping grows louder, overwhelming my senses, and in a frantic bid to escape the cacophony, I unleash a scream.

I hoped my own voice will drown out the noise and bring me a moment of solace amidst the chaos.

But it's not long before I'm interrupted. The door to the bathroom swings open with a forceful creak, and I find myself staring at a looming figure.

I didn't get anytime to react before their's big hand moves swiftly, reaching out to stifle my cries, and in that moment,

-I realize that my desperate attempt for peace has led me to a new kind of turmoil.

"Hey, shh shh," Rafe's voice cuts through the chaos, his tone a mix of urgency and reassurance but I didn't believe it one bit.

I still attempted to lock eyes with him, but my body rebels against my will, like 100 stone pressing down on my neck.

Sensing my distress, he gently removes his hand, effortlessly lifting me onto the table with a swift, practiced motion.

Left bewildered in the dimly lit bathroom, my mind struggles to grasp the abrupt shift in his demeanor. What just happened in this whirlwind of events?

Before I can unravel the mystery, he reenters the room, a beer bottle clutched in his grasp, his expression unreadable in the flickering light.

I shoot him a puzzled look.

"It's just water, go ahead and drink it," he reassures me, seeing my confusion.

I pause, my hand hovering over the bottle, a silent moment of hesitation as I try to avoid his fingers.

Studying the beer bottle in my grasp, I take a small, hesitant sip, the surprising cold water instantly bringing relief. His words were true.

After feeling a bit calmer, I carefully place the bottle back down.

Looking up at him this time.

I suddenly realize he's positioned closely between my legs, prompting me to instinctively push myself farther back against the counter.

"Wait, hold on," I interject softly, attempting to make sense of the unfolding situation.

"Why are you even doing this? Like, why help?" Suspicion tinges my voice as I search for answers.