The Kings Spawn | ✔︎

1

"Loneliness is the landscape of life."

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The morning breeze was hectic, a few occasional thunder crashes accompanying the soft pitter patter of the rain. I sit quietly in the middle of the white dressed waiting room, my gaze trained across the room where a large clock hangs, every tick humming a slow tune.

"Miss Hazel Mcliffe."

The voice jerks me from my seat.

"Yes." I answer, turning to where a woman stands, darbed in a pressed white coat.

"Sorry for the hold up Miss Mcliffe we'll be with you now."

I respond with a curt nod, quickly slinging my brown bag across my shoulder. As if on impulse the ends of my hair stand tall, alert and ready. It was rather frightening, how my body reacted to every step I took to enclose the distance onto the angst awaiting me.

The angst of a woman who haunted my nights.

I follow the attendant in an endless trance, it's all a blur, I don't remember walking down the eerily long hallway, I don't remember passing the dozen of charted windows. And I surely don't remember reaching a door, but its in front of me, large and decorated in platinum steel.

The woman wastes no time in pushing it open, her face building in annoyance as I stand in place, every bone in my body stilled.

"Okay Miss, I'll be right outside if you need me." She says, her painfully tight smile urging me to enter.

And I abide, walking into the oddly suffocating room before I can even answer. Four pristine white walls surround me like a prison willowed for my own entrapment. But I couldn't pay any attention, her neatly placed figure was more than enough to numb my mind.

Thin, frail and hidden behind that silly excuse of a sheet.

Above her stroked multiple pencil lines etched. It was all there, every letter to spell Kalliea Mcliffe but I couldn't believe it, or rather I didn't want to. The rings of denial soothing my impending guilt, guilt that seethed to stay at bay. I push the unnecessary pile of thoughts away, it wouldn't do me any good to think, not now.

My legs to move forward until only the thinnest of fabrics sets us apart.

A pale lifeless face laid before me, pallid and sunken beyond recognition. Pluckers of luscious brown hair frames her petite jawline. It was the first thing that caught my eye, the rope lines wrapped along her neck.

This was it.

She had actually done it, she had finally killed herself like she said she would, I thought she was lying like she always did. That night at the terrence, I should've gone back.

If I only I could.

I hover near, heartbeats rail against my ears, it's sheer volume was enough to mask the storm ravaging outside.

I felt light, maybe it was because of the suffocating room, I couldn't tell anymore. My eyes twirled along with the background, the colors faded off like a poorly shot action film. I blink a couple times, but it was no use I could no longer see, my vision long blinded.

Yet when I looked back, her face was as clear as day. Two blood shot eyes now held my gaze, was she alive? Or could it be I had finally gone crazy, after all those aggravating nights could it be that I had finally lost it. I blink hard and long, peering through my lashes only to see her staring right back.

'You left me.' She reels in a hoarse screech. 'When I needed you most Hazelnut.'

"Your not real!" I scream, the familiar nickname making bile rise to my throat. "Leave me alone..."