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🔥 Paint the sky,
make it yours.🔥
--- *** --- --- The Next Morning --- --- 27th of October, 1964 ---
Within the approaching morning swifter than summer breeze nowhere else than in the Monsignor's en-suite bedroom where you both shared separate beds, in fact, you weren't intimately close to each other, you were deeply drifted off asleep on the comfy compact bed. The mid-autumn climate was parallel to the common chilly climate that ventilated the lifelessly dull asylum's walls.
At the moment, you could sense loneliness encompassed you or at least, you didn't have a sixth sense of somebody else's presence accompanying you in the bedroom except your somber silhouette, mirroring against the eye-catchingly abstract light bumblebee yellow painted wall which secured you on your right side. Snorting in a light-heavy inhale the mid-autumn, pleasant odor of lavender, amalgamating with the reek of dried-blood smeared cloth-clad wafting across your nose whilst your eyelids vacillatingly timidly trembling until your {E/C} gemstones snapped open at the partly light room and embraced by the wee morning's saturating, aureate sun rays smiling to your partly illuminated freshly cleansed complexion from the dried gore and your freshly remedied hideously plum tints, scarcely rebukingly trouncing you with sore pain, pinching your flimsy epidermis due to the slightly late treatment which was better than being dumped hardly disinfected and disarming the infection's malicious arsenal.
"Oh God!" After fashioning your white-knuckled calloused hands in balled fists to daub your groggy {E/C} gemstones and muffling a yawn, mounting your mouth afterwards, an inevitably haphazard grunt rolled your tongue as a tempest wave and pitching the hushing atmosphere with the eloquent morning birdsong, encircling the old, notorious madhouse.
Shortly after you came fully to your senses and the haze gradually, perpetually didn't fog your vision any longer, subsequently you could behold everything clearer and more meaningfully. The aspiring Monsignor wasn't even in the en-suite bedroom. Your heart skipped a beat abruptly.
Little did you know where he could be except if he's in his own office or on the contrary fled his territory and getting back to his work. Or rather, getting dressed and ready for the day, factly, after scanning on Timothy's nightstand the clock with the digitals, glimmering the approximate time which was "6:25am" in the morning, without thinking twice you're readily sure it was high time for him to get ready even not delay with his arrival in certain places where his presence was obligatory such as the church and certain outskirts the small city of Massachusetts even out of Boston.
Moreover, what it startled you and snapped you out of the clock's recent time was the security guards even certain staff members that are responsible for checking on the patients and their wards were perhaps starting to look for you even Sister Jude was after you after probably discovering your ward empty to pieces and acknowledging your disappearance even plotting her blood-thirsty punishment for you whether if she encounters you or on the contrary one of the staff members informs her about you. Your heart sunk in oblivion. You're more than ready for another punishment from the coldblooded, stern sister of the church and encountering momentarily the canes' arsenal, welting and wounding your bare rear, foreshadowing the sequence of your disappearance and spending the night in Timothy's bedroom as he took care of you unlike her or the doctor who's responsible for the patients' conditions in his laboratory.
