Suspended

This is my contest entry for  Weekly Wattpad Contest #42

A pristine, paper-white room. Walls smooth and clear, with the exception of a single window on the far end. The crystal glass lets the golden rays of sunshine fill the room, only making the lighting all the more blinding. The whitewashed door behind me is still swung open, the shining brass numbers of the hotel room glinting at me. 949. All sound is muffled by a thick, woolen blanket, stuffed inside my ears, my throat, my nose. My feet are so rooted to the spot that weeds have grown about it. The pools of chocolate that are my eyes have frozen, stone still as they take in the sight before me.

The woman, the angel, suspended in eternity. Her skin made of milk, shining in the unearthly glow. The flames that trail down her body, beginning at her crown and licking her shoulders, her arms, her back. The gold that curves about her skin, fitted around her bosom, her waist, and dancing about her legs. 

It is the dead of winter and the heat of summer all at once, my mind being electrocuted by a bolt of lightning. I am drowning, water filling my lungs as I struggle for air, surrounded inside and out by the expanse of the sea.

Yet the woman is still there before me, her melted amber gaze glazed over, seeing yet not seeing. A mask of wax taints her milk-white face, the leftover remnants of terror permanently plastered there. The black, buzzing balls of shadow have joined the wool and water in my throat and stomach. I both process and do not process the iron chair that has fallen to the floor, laughing at me in the sunlight.

The woman sways above, and the blackness, wool, and water all emerge from my throat, staining the once-pure floor with my filth. My eyes are on fire, trails of lava scorching my cheeks, burning holes into the floor.

The woman's lips are the same color as the spring sky moments before rain. Her cord necklace digs into her throat, marring the once perfect skin. I stand there forever, a thousand thoughts crowding my mind, causing it to shatter.

Broken glass falls on the floor with the lava, cutting my face as it descends. It pierces me through, and like the sack of bricks I have become, I fall to the floor. An air raid siren is echoing throughout the room, throughout my mind, overwhelming my senses.

And the window's sunlight turns into an epilepsy of colors. Blood, Sea, Blood, Sea. The air raid joined with a hurricane warning, the sirens clashing with each other.

Faceless judges swarm the room, the roaring of bears lumbering inside, clawing at me, pulling me away. The air raid siren grows louder, I grow louder, and reach out towards the woman.

The woman, the angel, my friend, still suspended after the end of forever. The faceless ones tear her from her necklace and unceremoniously smother her figure with cloth, taking her to the hurricane siren and the seizure of blood and sea. The bears rip me from the room, roaring at me as the air raid sputters, the wool choking my throat.

The hotel numbers smirk down at me from the door as I am dragged from the scene.

949.

949.

949.

Why?

Why?

Why?