The Movement

Chapter Four - Part 1

Chapter Four

Troy opened his eyes and blinked the sleep away. He was still unable to see through the invisible quilt of darkness surrounding him. Wishing to sense his environment, he breathed quietly to hear the faintest sounds of life. He leaned forward, squinting, to view the white circular clock hanging on the wall, a few feet from the ceiling. It read three thirty-two. Troy figured it was three thirty-two in the morning, considering the ubiquitous wall of blackness suffocating the light from the room. It was the first time he’d awoken without any sight of the blue curtains.

I hate those stupid blue curtains. Where is my wife? Where is the nurse? groused Troy to himself, listening to his heart beat louder with worry.

TAP. TAP. TAP.

Troy heard the loud tapping sounds amid the eerie silence. He waited, glaring at the doorway with a scorn of curiosity.

TAPTAPTAP.

The taps increased in speed and volume as they approached closer and closer.

TAPTAPTAPTAP.

Troy’s heart dropped to a deep rhythmic beat, alternating between nervous gasps for air. His forehead percolated and body heated. Suddenly, the taps stopped without warning. Troy anxiously awaited its continuation. Still, he expected more. After what seemed an eternity, the tapping proceeded, ever slowly, but much fainter. They were quieter taps now, but Troy knew the quiet footsteps were the stealthy efforts of the mysterious walker, not because they were further away. Whoever was creeping into his room in the middle of the night would appear as soon as the he or she pulled back the curtains with a simple swipe.

The faint footsteps stopped completely. He could hear the person breathing steadily, directly behind the curtains, only feet away from his bed. The anonymous hand gripped the curtains tightly and slowly peeled the curtains back, the metal curtain rings quietly screeching against the curtain rod. Troy still could not see. It was pitch black. Sitting straight upright in his bed, Troy’s sweat coalesced together on his forehead to form a broad, wet slate.

“Who…Who’s there? Who’s there?” announced Troy in fear.

No answer, just the sounds of the continued hot breathe only a few feet from his cot. He heard the air move as the apparition’s arm moved towards the nightstand. Troy heard a small clicking sound against the aluminum cot frame, and then the invisible man walked out of the room, sliding the curtains to a full enclosure once more. Relieved, Troy collapsed back down into his cot, letting out long breathes. After thinking over the odd occurrence, he leaned forward once more and placed his hand over top the nightstand, feeling around for whatever the invisible figure placed there. His knuckles nudged over a small, square tin container. He grabbed it quickly, bringing it close to his eyes for a better look. He opened it and felt around. He felt something like a wrapped up tobacco stick inside, or a tiny, hard nugget wrapped inside of folded paper. Troy leaned forward and squinted toward the clock again—six forty-seven.

Had that much time passed already? It seemed only a few minutes ago it was three thirty! thought Troy.

Troy looked outside the window; the sun’s tint began to glow from the horizon.

Finally, some light!

Troy shuffled the small paper wrap around in his antsy fingers, unrolled it, his face only centimeters away from it. Inside was a small blue pill. On the inside of the note read, in small capital red letters:

FIVE DAYS. RELEARN YET? I THOUGHT SO

That was the old man again! How did he get into the hospital without being stopped? Why does he keep giving me these pills? thought Troy.

His head pounded in a drumming pain. Holding the blue pill in his hand, wet from wiping his sweaty forehead, he contemplated taking it to ease the migraine. After little thought, he threw the pill behind his dry tongue, swallowing it down his scratchy throat. He felt at ease. He felt relaxed; not a care in the world. His eyes felt heavy, his body felt light; he enjoyed this feeling. He wanted more. He closed his eyes and fell under the old man’s spell once again.