Maya's POV
"Oh, Paul." I said softly as I sat beside him. I didn't attempt to touch him, not wanting to obtain the same reaction as before.
"Paul?" I called after him
"Mum?" he answered. I realized why the trip was turning bad : partly because of the book and partly because of his mother.
"It's not her. It's Maya, Paul."
"Maya?"
"Yes."
"Mushroom Maya?" he said, in a daze and I choked a laugh
"Yes." I said, placing my hand on his forehead. It felt cold and I noticed that he was shivering.
"Paul, can you give me your hand?"
"Yes." he said though he didn't move an inch. I coaxed his hand so he'd let go of the noose and I held both of his in mine. I made him stand up and wrapped an arm around him as I took him inside. He was obedient and complacient. We passed the living room; no one had seemed to notice. I walked him upstairs and took him to my room. We were welcomed by soft familiar snores. John had set up a makeshift tent and crawled under it. I let out a smile.
"Paul?"
"Yes?" he said faintly
"I'm going to take off your wet clothes, alright?"
"Alright." he replied stiffly. I took off his sweater, unbutonned his shirt and slid down his trousers. He stood there: in his underwear gazing into empty space.
"Who would guess that this would happen someday" I mumbled.
I grabbed his hand and guided him to the bed. I wrapped the covers around him and seeing as it wasn't enough, I circled him with my arms. He stiffened at first, maybe not knowing that it was me and then relaxed.
"It's alright, Paul." I whispered soothingly. I kissed his shoulder.
Paul's POV
Things were so distorted. I couldn't tell reality from illusion. I felt the three Bartholomeus's there but then I didn't. They were edging me towards suicide but they weren't forcing me. It felt strange. A noose was thrown in my hands, and I was told to hold on to it. Bartholomeus II advised me to put it around my neck now that I had it, and I did. I was open to suggestions. Bartholomeus III recommended that I climb on the stool, and his wish became my command. Bartholomeus I then insisted for me to step forward, and I fell, expecting to feel the noose choke me. But, it didn't. I was a puppet, but even funnier, an inmortal puppet. Suicide attempts did not work on me. Down there, on the floor, Bartholomeus's voices were hushed and I felt safe. Unafraid. Someone touched my arm, making me feel as if they'd placed a hot iron on my skin. The touch was followed by a voice. My mother's voice. I ran. Away from the pain, my mother. I collapsed unto the white snow, the cold soothing and welcoming. After a while, I became numb, and it was all so quiet, so calm. I heard faint footsteps approaching.
"Paul?" a voice called from afar, resembling the sweetness of my mother
"Mum?" I managed to say, hesitant
"It's Maya, Paul." she said, the beginning of the sentence too faint to be heard. I thought of Maya, feeling a sudden warmth to my cheeks, remembering a memory with a name.
"Mushroom Maya?" I confirmed.
"Yes." she placed her hand on my forehead.
"Can you give me your hand?" she then asked
"Yes" I said but my muscles wouldn't move. I felt her take the noose from my hands and then stand me up. I wasn't aware of the sudden change of temperature as she took me into the house. Everything was a soft pastel color. We walked up the stairs and she opened the door to a room.
