Two Sides Of A Coin

5~Charles

I can't believe him... what is he thinking? Coming in and invading my life, saying I'm in danger, as if I can't protect myself. I flashback to moments before when I fell put of bed, and even further back to my days in the dumps. Maybe he isn't completely wrong.

Where did Erik go? Why would he just leave me here? 'Here to save me'. Bah. Then he just abandons-

Erik came in the door, pushing a wheelchair in front of him.

"What is that?" I can feel myself pale. The wheelchair looks rusted and tattered, and squeaks when it moves.

Much like you.

Shut up!

"Your wheelchair." He rolls it over to me, and supports me at my arms to help me get in it.

"This is disgusting," I mutter as I sit in it. It is lumpy, exactly as I expected it to be, and it smelled funny. I can almost sense a witty remark go through Eriks mind. "I'm hungry. And I require the services of a barber."

"I too have an appetite."

"Great, let's get breakfast, then the barbershop."

"Or, how about barber, then breakfast?" I roll my eyes at him.

"But we are both hungry now, why don't we just-"

"No."

When we reach the car, Erik helps me into the front passenger seat. Back to the shame and embarrassment of not doing anything myself, it seems. He folds the wheelchair and puts it in the backseat before taking the driver's seat.

"I've been promoted to the front passenger, eh?" I say. I can't help the feeling that Erik is disappointed in me, which brings up my guilt. Naturally I try to avoid entertaining those feelings, do I try to lighten the mood.

We ride in silence, but considering my pounding head it's not the worst that could happen. I look out the window to try to figure out where we are. It seems that the hotel we stayed at was the only building in sight on this road in the middle of green grasses. The sun is bright, which hurts my eyes, so I look in the glove department to see if there were any sunglasses.

"Try the door," Erik says. I wonder how he knew what I was looking for, considering I was the one with telepathy. Sure enough, I find some in the door that look as though the last time they were worn was twenty years ago. I blow on them to get rid of the dust, and then I put them on.

That telepathy will be coming back soon, I imagine. Why did Erik have to destroy it all? It wasn't like it was addictive. But I need more, now, or else the voices, and all their pain, will return. Too bad I didn't keep an emergency case on me. Although I suppose Erik would have crushed it like he did my century-old flask.

Fianlly a town is in sight, but as the buildings get closer I realize how small of a town it actually is.

"Are you sure there is a barbershop in this pitiful place?" I ask Erik.

"We'll find one."

Is there even a school out here? Who would live here? I don't see many children on the sidewalks as we pass by. Our car, as old as it is, seems brand new compared to the technology of this town. I see a barbershop on the edge of the street, in between a diner and a bank. Erik comes to a stop in front of the barbershop, and gets out to get my wheelchair. There are few things more awkward and unfortunate than waiting for someone to get the wheelchair. Erik unfolds it before opening my door. He helps me into it.

"Can you get around in it yourself?" He asks as I try to readjust in it. I try to move.

"No." Erik nodds, and proceeds to push me inside the barbershop. There were two chairs on the left side of the room, and a couch on the other side for waiting. In front of the chairs were mirrors and all the supplies the barbers required. A gruff, old looking man was behind a small counter at the front.