Disclaimer: Once again I have not succeeded in owning anything related to the OC. However disappointing it might be, that does include my lovely Mr. Brody. Drats…foiled again! Nothing is mine, just borrowing.
Author's Note: No clue how this got into my head, I blame the giddiness over my new Stereophonics CD. Tell me what you think, if I should continue this or not. Nice reviews make me so very very happy, so please do feel free to leave some behind.
Lost In Babylon
Wish I could lie in the sun
The same things as anyone
Wish I could lie down there
With my feet, high in the air
My skin's crawling up the wall
Into the ocean I'd love to fall
I hear the sounds but they ain't the same
As feeling them with you two feet away
Lying In The Sun Stereophonics.
Staring down at the metal surface, I grin at my reflection, feeling heady by my own overwhelming need to feel that smile…deep down under my skin. I want it to burrow itself within me and stay there until I really feel the need to use it. Maybe then I'll have found a way to feel the emotions that went along with the gesture. Knowledge is power baby, but it takes a little time to accumulate. I grin again, more slowly this time, trying to learn things I know I knew once upon a time. Why does once upon a time always feel so distant, I wish things were near again. Maybe if I could touch it, I'd be able to understand what they mean.
It doesn't work, and I cackle softly, wanting to hear the sounds that have haunted me when my eyes were closed. The mocking sounds that vibrate between my ears, my thoughts rattle through me and I cannot understand nor pinpoint them anymore. They don't make sense, I know this… Rationally I really do, but reality and I are having a huge fight. It doesn't approve of my madness, and I don't care at all. Pressing my lips tightly together, I try to avoid the glares
demanding silence from me.
Madness comforts me in warm whirlwinds of craziness, and it's never abandoned me, unlike that traitorous normal world. Nothing ever settles in anyway, my brain and heart are waging some sort of war and I am their reluctant prisoner. I don't remember, those moments that made others feel forlorn and look at me with endless pity in their eyes. I couldn't feel the sorrow that I feel I am supposed to, and end up feeling wretched and unnerved because of it.
It was December again, some weird part of my mind told me last night, but I could not understand the importance of that fact. I couldn't understand what that meant, well at least not until I was told what I was supposed to feel. Take your medication darling, they'd whisper in slight saccharine tones. And I'd nod like the good little nutter, and they'd smile at me then and I'd feel like a part of the world again. How odd that their smiles could that for me, how their acceptance could make me feel somewhat balanced. Or maybe it was the little white pills that did that for me.
Bodies shuffle in and out the stark white room, and my madness comes calling again. I grin, still feeling detached from the senses of joy that must've accompanied this motion so far away. Waves of familiarity come crashing down upon me when I smell the scent of home on the air. I look up, and my eyes itch as I try to take in his form. Curls bounce boyishly atop his head, and I feel my fingers curl in my lap because of it. How odd, I never wanted to touch anything as badly.
"You've got a visitor, darlin'," the fat lady in the white uniform clucks, and I feel confused as to how I should respond. I try for a reply but can't think straight. Maybe the pills are travelling down my veins and taking me to that pleasant numb place again. How comforting, I sigh to myself before brushing my hair out of my face.
"Hi," he croaks, and I feel a strange triumph at his discomfort, yet I don't understand where the emotion came from. I thought I couldn't feel anymore. It's December, my blurry brain mutters to me once again, but how come I don't understand what that means?
I curl my fingers in reply, and wave kind of awkwardly at the man across from me, letting my gaze run along his face. Things feel nicer in my stomach when he tries to smile back, warmer somehow as he takes me hand in his. His dark intricate eyes mesmerize me, and I wish he wouldn't seem so sad despite not really knowing who this man is. I don't even attempt to withdraw my hand when his thumb starts to run lazy circles along my palm. I'm so terribly afraid these tremors he's shaking me with will fizzle away, I'm almost afraid to look at him again.
White fuzzy pills are playing tricks on me again, I amend to myself as I try my hand at smiling again. He looks around for a moment, maybe he doesn't believe this is happening either, and I giddily ponder the reasons for his eyes turning complicated. Was my smile making them do that?
I grin harder, and the swirling in my stomach is fiercer than before.
The fat lady in the uniform comes trotting back again, interrupting our gazing, and the heat of anger rises along my body almost immediately.
"She won't know who you are, Mr. Cohen."
Her sugary words sting me, and delicate parts of me wonder why I'm getting angry about the truth. I don't know this Mr. Cohen, or his tangled eyes. I could care less if I knew him, and pure venom makes me withdraw my hand and cradle it possessively in my lap. I only care for my madness, for my numbing little pills. I don't care about December, or all these people in uniforms who call me darling all the damn time.
"Yes, I uhm.." I look away when his eyes darken again, annoyed by myself and my malfunctioning drugs. "I kind of figured she wouldn't," his laugh sound frail, like it could shatter at any moment, and I hold my breath in fear it does. "It just.." He looks at the uniformed woman hovering over us, I'm certain I loathe her now. "For a moment it seemed like she kind of knew me any way."
She looks at him with pity, and my hands are itching to claw at her face. I try smiling instead, but violence seems more fulfilling. More comforting…God why won't these pills save me from my thoughts? I feel like screaming now, he's getting up. Getting up to leave again.
"Mr. Cohen?" I feel braver than any stark white room, any fat woman with pitying looks. I stand up, wanting to be level enough with him to look into those twisted orbs of inexplicable color. I love the mixture of surprise and elation that's taken over his face. Maybe I should've said his name even sooner. I dig my fingernails into the softness of my palm, not sure why I'm nauseous.
"You're going to come back right?" I swallow hard, ignoring everything around me but his face. And then, he smiles. I can't believe I made him smile. I can't believe I feel alright now, so suddenly, like relief is all there is to everything. The solution to all the bad things I always try to forget.
"Of course!" he nods, beautiful head of curls bobbing along with him, and I grin. I think I might be better at it this time around. Just a little practice, maybe I'll be able to clear my head. He takes my hand again, and I can't get over how tenderly he goes about things as his fingers glide along mine. "See you soon," my strange visitor says very softly, and I nod back at him.
I glower at the uniformed drones, standing in a neat row at the back of the room, waiting greedily to return me to my cage. He looks sad again, so I just reassure him, "I'll remember you next time." He seems happier, or maybe more jittery than he was to begin with. I try not to think anymore as my head throbs ceremoniously, but I'm still proud of my progress when I watch him walk off. Maybe I'll be less attached to my madness next time he comes around.
Okay, was it horrible, should I just drop this? Or try and make it into a longer fanfiction? Feedback is really appreciated! Thanks for taking the time to read anyway.