Under The Johannes Lake

chapter eight

A few days have flown by, and were mostly similar to the first. There have been times where I've felt broken, puzzled, scared. Yesterday, I only had one of those 'attacks', so hopefully today I'll have none. Dad and Cassie will definitely know that I'm gone now, I wonder how they're both feeling— no. I've got to stop thinking about that, but it is so impossible.

After I woke up from the first night, Sammy acted as if he was oblivious to the cake on my desk, but his smirks let his guard down. That day was great, all of us were together for everything, apart from Doyle. I wonder how his night went. Other than that, we turned up to every training session.

On the second night, Sammy wanted a drawn background by the portrait of himself — would've been better if he told me that before I'd ripped it off the page, but nevertheless, I thoroughly enjoyed his company.

On the fifth morning, I went to pull the sheets above my head, but they were stiff. Sammy's figure sat beside mine, he shuffled me until I was fully conscious.
"We've got a delivery." He whispered, but it was slurred.
"What?" I rubbed my eyes.
"We had a delivery a little while ago."
"A delivery?" I sat up, Sammy's hand still resting against my covered leg, "Of what?"
"I think it's clothes."
"Clothes?"
"Yes. Come on, sleepy! Look." He brought over an opaque, bagged item with my name printed onto it, not written. He had an identical one.
"Huh." I made my observations. It was just a white bag with my name — nothing special.
"Open 'em at the same time?" Sammy queried.
"Alright." I started to slowly rip the top, watching him quickly do the same just after.

Scrambling, we scanned the now transparent bag we simultaneously pulled out. The clothing piece had my favourite colour along the shoulder areas, Sammy's had purple.
"Gonna take a wild guess and say your favourite colour is purple."
"Damn... how did you guess?" He snarked.

I took the clothing out of the bag: it had a lighter grey on the front and back with a darker gray descending the sides, a pair of grey arm sleeves glided out of the bag — the same colour as the side streaks on the body outfit. There was also a jacket that came out as-well — again — with our favourite colour along the shoulders. Very noticeably, a pattern in the shape of antlers had been hand-sewn into the back piece.

"Look, Sam. Antlers." I profusely tapped his arm and brushed my hand over the design.
"Where?" He said.
"Look! Here!" I showed him, but the look on his face remained still.
"It just looks the same as mine." He spoke blankly, placing his bodysuit on the bed and showing me the emptiness on the back of his.
"Wh- You can't see them?" I furrowed my brow.
"No."
"But you saw the antlers on that box on the surface?"
"Yes."
"And you can't see it on mine?"
"No, it's just the same."

I couldn't grasp that he couldn't see them, but now I can't either. Such a vivid pattern had disappeared.
"God, Sam. I think I'm seeing things, because now it's not there."
"Are you feeling okay?" He told.
"I think so, but I might ask Kees where that doctor is — the one that took Doyle."
"I'll come with you."
"Thank you."

What kind of trickery is this place doing. I just wanna be back up there. I miss her. They must be so worried. I'm so sorry Cassie.

"Are we putting it on now?" I began after my indecisive thoughts.
"Not now." He said, unsure, "Oh, it's only eight-thirty. Breakfast don't start until nine, we have plenty of time, so try it on if you want."
I held up the clothing infront of me — it was soothing to the touch.

"I'm actually a bit weirded out on how much they know about us, we don't even know who 'they' is. What if we're being watched right now?" I looked around the room.
"Maybe. Maybe they've been spying on us because they knew we'd come down here sooner or later?" Says Sammy, laying down and peering to the distant ceiling.
"Yeah! And what if they put that box there for a reason? God, I kind of wish I was caught by my father that day and not be down here."
"But it is cool though, right?" He lightly tapped my leg, "Here?"
"Oh, pfff... yeah, of course! But I'm a little suspicious."
"Everyone is. But at least me and you are here together, y'know? Don't think I'd rather have anyone else to share a room with." He fondled with the bag.
"Not even Fritz?" I said.
"With Fritz? God, the bags I'd have under my eyes the next morning," says Sammy, still flipping the piece of clothing between hands, "I enjoy your company, I don't want anyone else's' but yours." I tilted my head at his kind words.