The silence was exasperating when their weary limbs ceased the endless race upon the dusty path. Leisurely each eye turned once the distress filled their souls. The bleak revelation was finally upon them to which Oliver roared, “Damn! Nancy’s missing now we’re all screwed.”
“Don’t rush to assumptions,” Arty bellowed in response. “We’ll search for her first.”
“Yeah right she’s dead and we’re bound to be next,” he spat. “But I hope either you or Margo falls next, because I don’t want to die.”
After the ill words drifted along his coarse tongue Margo’s hazel eyes focused solely upon his long form, though the sentiments she felt could never be expressed aloud. Gradually the melody of Arty’s knuckles rang vividly into Oliver’s tender ears while the bright light shined gracefully upon his brown head. The lines of sweat fell fast from Oliver’s brow until the discomfort reflected in his tone.
“Fine I know when I’m not welcomed,” escaped his taupe lips before he slowly drifted away. Once Oliver’s foul presence was absent she glided towards the handsome gent called Arty. Softly her lips connected to his; however the unease was transparent when he pulled away.
“What’s wrong,” she calmly asked.
The vanilla limbs were restless before anxious appendages lowered to the wheat floor beneath. “It’s the path,” he sighed. “When will we reach the end, and if we ever achieve this grand feat then what awaits us? Maybe that’s why I always worry if there isn’t an end.”
Each movement from her form was sluggish, until her position was the same as his. “Don’t attack your own self because of this issue,” she softly replied. “Everyone has thought the same at some point, and I’m damn sure this won’t change. But this has become a vital part to our daily lives once we’ve accepted the facts before us.”
“Vital…there’s nothing vital about this,” he moaned. “We’re trapped along this path with no sign of friends or family for months possibly years. Honestly we are the last and because of this we can’t determine when another will fall.”
Each word entered her ears, until the clarity rang in full before her drowsy head lowered to his shoulder. “Don’t worry I promise that I’ll protect you,” she tenderly responded.
Despite the comfort from the words she spoke the discomfort lingered. The terrors swirled in their heads as their connection strengthened. Perhaps the words Oliver had said were destined to pass, but regardless the passionate movements began anew.
Although Margo’s fair head agonized internally she at least found pleasure with the young man. In his arms was the only location she felt at peace, while her head rested upon his chiseled torso. Gently the time faded until the slumber was upon her again.
“Welcome back,” entered her tender ears when she awoke anew in the bleached hell. The warmth overwhelmed her brain when she cheerfully sailed across the pale floor. The rapid movements began when her petite arms enfolded around his lean figure while he sat within the silvery chair. However the revelation had not dawned upon head that neither his attire nor the surroundings were the same as before.
“Is something wrong,” he slurred heavily.
“No,” she tearfully remarked. “I’m fine with you here.”
Though Margo was the peculiar apple in the bunch to the onlookers the scene today was stranger than usual. “Liam,” the strong voice remarked. “Is Margo bothering you?”
“No Foreman,” he incoherently spoke allowing the handicap to shine brighter. This was the burden he had been confined to within the hellish world, and once the earlier words were repeated the harsh fact crashed down upon Margo’s fair head.
“No, I mean welcome back,” Liam cheerfully remarked before the rapid waterworks spilled from her hazel eyes. Again the group of eyes was glued to her, while the thoughts of death churned inside of her head since the relationship wasn’t part of the dream. Each minute that passed the blood poured from her white knuckles until the pale tile was stained.
“You hear she’s refusing to take her meds,” a member of the snowy crowd whispered, while another answered. “Yeah I heard she’s been seeing things a lot lately.”
“Hush,” the older voice remarked before her long frame drifted from the chair. “Margo,” the voice said when the strong arm draped across her shoulder. “Look at me honey and dry your eyes.”
Leisurely her eyes lifted from the stained tile and upon the beautiful sight of Polly’s ebony face. “I missed you,” Margo sobbed.
“I know honey,” she smiled in reply. “Everyone missed you too. After the past day of being locked away I was wondering if you were fine. So are you fine?”
“Locked away,” Margo echoed.
“Yeah,” Polly replied. “You refused to take the assigned medications, and because of this you were kept in your room in the hopes that you’d understand later. Yet nothing changed and they released you like usual.”
Gradually her head bounced while she tried to recall the past actions. “I’m fine,” Margo remarked. “I’ve been a tad out of it lately.”
“Haven’t we all,” she chuckled in response. “I heard Lowery began therapy with you yesterday. So how did it go?”
“He asked several questions and I left my shell for a while.”
“Did the methods work then,” she followed.
“What do you mean?”
“Did the session relieve any of the bottled tension,” she replied. However the sway from Margo’s auburn locks forced the frown to sweep over Polly’s wise face. “You have to get better, because everyone misses you. Please honey you have to. Please take your medicine, continue with your sessions, and I assure you that the stay will become easier.”
The words that escaped Polly’s lips were sincere while the tears flowed profusely from Margo’s eyes. In her eyes this was the Polly that she loved dearly. Though she was an illusion she was the still only friend within this hell called Twin Ledges.
Margo was certain that in the crowd’s view she appeared to be an emotional wreck, but such sentiments didn’t bother her. To her this was an escape while the tears flowed onwards once Polly’s strong arms were firmly around her again. Regardless of the pastel prison around she found peace once more, until the tears ceased.
