Red Bars

Prologue: Under My Skin

in·san·i·ty

[in-san-i-tee]

noun, plural in·san·i·ties.

1. the condition of being insane; a derangement of the mind. Synonyms: dementia, lunacy, madness,craziness, mania, aberration.

2. extreme foolishness; folly; senselessness; foolhardiness: Trying to drive through that traffic would be pure insanity.

We're sitting around in my apartment as rain splashes up against the windows of the building. The sounds of the rain vary inconsistently as Hong Kong's summer wind batters against the downpour. I'm typing away at my computer in an attempt to learn more about the rich businessman who lives just a floor above. The room itself is nearly completely silent aside from the heavy rain outside and the clacking of the occasional key. The glow of the city behind the windows leaks a cool blue light into an otherwise dark room. Occasionally, this light catches a pair of green eyes in the darkness. They're the eyes of a girl that I had met just hours before.

Red lies upside-down on my modest twin sized bed facing me. It's not even a bed, really. It's just a mattress that sits only inches above the dusty hard-wood floor of my apartment. Red is not too critical of the place though or at least she's not as critical as I would've thought she'd be. I had absolutely no idea where Red rested her head at three O' Clock in the morning but I figured her resting place was far better than mine. A few panels were missing from the ceiling and I never turned the lights on because the bulb made the most annoying hum I've ever heard. The humming pulses through my ears like the mating call of, gladly, dying species of insect. I still had a sense of pride in the place though. I cleaned it up every once in a while out of pure boredom and never really bothered to do an amazing job at it either. You see, unlike most Americans deciding to move to far off countries, I hadn't bothered to imagine what having guests over might look like.

Our mutual silence is strongest when Red asks a very simple question from behind me. "Have I ever told you the definition of insanity, Indigo?" She asks playfully.

"You need to stop calling me that." I deadpan. "and no. You haven't told me yet."

"Have I ever told you the definition of insanity?" She asks again.

I rub my forehead a little and look down at the clock. It's 2:44am. I'm groggy and let a sigh escape my lips before returning to the conversation. "No, Red. You haven't. What is it?"

Silence.

She remains quiet for about 15 seconds before asking the question again as if it's new information. "Have I ever told you the definition of insanity?" Her words force their way into my head like the ringing of a familiar light bulb.

"Just tell me!" I demand, now turning to her.

She asks again.

Silence.

I continue typing "Walter Lee" into Google and Red takes notice. "You're doing it again you know."

My fingers stop on the keys. "Doing what again?"

She sighs and looks back up to the ceiling in despair. "Six times, indigo." She states. "You've typed his name into Google six times in the past hour."

I bite. "Why does that matter?"

"Well," She continues with a smile creeping its way onto her face. "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

This girl has a way of getting under my skin, I thought as I typed "Walter Lee" into Google for the seventh time.

Red starts to randomly sing. She moves her finger in front of her face to the rhythm of the tone. "I've got you..." She sings Sinatra in a cool tone. "...under my skin."

I sigh again. "Could you not?" I beg of her.

She ignores me. "I've got you deep in the heart of me..."

"Red, you're doing that thing that you do again."

She rolls her eyes. "Whatever do you mean?"

"The driving me insane thing."

~~~~~

"I've got you under my skin"-Frank Sinatra