TUS - Chapter Three: Don't Go

I remained pressed against that cold wall, hands palmed over grooved cement, priming myself for anything further. The room was still dimly lit, but it was enough to observe the alcove and the man within it. He'd finally stopped rocking back and forth, the noises ceased to just moderately sonorous breathing, but he never left the corner he was huddled in. His hands were no longer clamped over his ears, but were now wrapped around his knees, forehead once again resting against the wall.
He was a complete conundrum to be able to incite such fear into someone, yet seem so afraid himself, like a walking contradiction. And because of that, I had no idea what he was capable of.
My eyes shifted back and forth between him and the room, though they never deviated too long from him. I wasn't sure in what part of the hospital he had me in, considering this room seemed so much different from the others, and if that reason alone was why my friends hadn't located me yet.
The structure appeared completely cemented, less blemished than what I did see of the basement floor, and had it not been for that familiar musty smell mixed with something I couldn't name, I would have assumed he'd taken me somewhere else. Other than me and him, the only other things in this room were the torn mattress, lamp, the bear and sheet. By the latter, it was obvious he lived here, and murderer or not, I wondered why he'd want to.
Time seemed to pass, possibly hours that we both stayed apoplectic in our neutral corners of the room. He, however, seemed as alert as he had hours ago, whereas I began feeling quite lethargic. I was having a difficult time keeping my eyes open, and the pain in my head was more noticeable now; probably due to the decrease of adrenalin in my system. I grappled against the fatigue, but failed miserably.
When I woke, I was still propped up against the wall, but I was once again covered with the sheet and something placed upon my lap. I gripped the sheet, pulling it down my body, seeing the tattered bear draped across my legs. I immediately glanced up toward the corner I knew he'd be in and saw him watching me; his face looked affable, almost innocent appearing. And somehow, in that moment as our eyes met, I understood he wouldn't hurt me; that if I wanted to leave he'd let me.
I removed the sheet completely, placing the bear down gently on top, and shifted my body enough to brace my hands along the wall. I pulled myself up slowly, careful not to agitate my concussed head, then gently turned around, taking small steps toward the door. I watched him as I inched further toward the exit then glanced between him and the door just as I approached it. "T-thank you for…umm… helping me, but I need to leave. I'm…I'm going to go now."
I reached for the door handle, twisting hard to open the door. "Don't…go," he whispered so soft in pitch, that had I not actually felt the words more than heard them, they probably would have been curtained from me. The tribulation in that two-worded plea sent a tumultuous ache through me, so intense that I painfully gripped the door handle within my hand. I instantly wanted to somehow comfort him, and it occurred to me because of that I was probably losing my mind.
I knew I should leave, that my friends and family were probably worried out of their minds and looking for me, yet I stood there, biting into my lip, unable to move forward. Why couldn't I leave? Nothing was physically holding me here, I was free to go, but I couldn't bring myself to do it, and I had no idea why; especially since just hours before I could think of nothing else but leaving.
Maybe I could stay just a few hours longer. Just a few more hours wouldn't make much difference, right?
I'm out of my mind, I thought; I had to have hit my head much harder than I realized because it's seriously impaired my judgment. I sighed in resignation and let go of the door handle, turning back around, but instead of walking back toward the far end of the room, I found a halfway point. I sat down, my back against the wall, pulling my legs up against my chest.
He exhaled a deep breath the moment I was seated, as if my staying were a relief to him. I certainly didn't understand it, I didn't understand a lot of what happened since I came to this place, but here I was, sitting in a room that was part of an abandoned hospital with a man that I knew nothing about, other than he was ensconced in this place for whatever reason, and that reason seemed to leave him broken and afraid.
"I have no clue what I'm doing," I mumbled as I rested my chin against my knees. "I'm sure there are people out there looking for me, yet here I sit. Before, all I could think about was getting away from here, away from you, then you speak to me, and now I just…I don't understand." I was voicing my thoughts, and trying to rationalize my actions only served to fuel the dull ache in my head the injury caused.
Up until this point, because leaving took precedence, I had no idea how bad my injury was; it hadn't really mattered. I could only assume that because I was still alive and the pain wasn't as biting, that I'd be fine. I lifted my right hand to the back of my head where the pain radiated, feeling a rather large lump. The moment my fingers grazed the wound, my touch sending a current of excruciating pain through my body, I winced. The lump was definitely tender to touch, but at least it wasn't bleeding.
I grit my teeth, closing my eyes in tight slits as I whispered, "I really shouldn't have done that."
I really shouldn't be here either.
I need to leave.
It took a few moments, inhaling deep gulps of air as my nails bit into the palms of my hand to defer the pain in my skull before it eased to a tolerable level. I lifted my head, opening my eyes, and just as I did, I heard him exhale sharply, like he'd been holding his breath through my affliction. I instinctively glanced toward him, and my breath caught the moment I laid eyes on him. He was no longer burrowed in the corner with his knees pulled up toward his chest; in fact, he had withdrawn several inches, body slightly angled in my direction, head completely facing me.
With the change in position, the light animated his features so I could actually see more than just his eyes, see that they were encased in the most beautiful face I'd ever seen. He had those deep green eyes, high cheekbones, a straight nose, and perfect full lips. My God, he was beautiful.
His hair, which appeared to be bronze color, was unusually disheveled, as if he'd yanked at it too much. I suppose I expected it to be unruly, but only because it was matted with dirt and that did not appear to be the case. He actually looked clean…body wise. His clothing, on the other hand, was very worn; tears perforated the seams along the arms of his shirt, along the sides, and there was a large rip just above the left breast pocket.
His slacks had obviously seen better days from what I could tell, considering he was still seated on the hard floor and his legs were clamped together, knees facing me to form a less than sign. He had jagged rips along the knees, and the material seemed to constrict around his thighs as if they were too snug.
Really seeing him now, how his appearance and demeanor vaunted him emotionally crippled, made my heart ache for him. What could have possibly happened to him to leave him this way, to allow him to even entertain the idea of living in a place like this, let alone doing it? Had it even been his choice?
And that bear, the one he had given me twice, was that any inclination as to how long he'd been here, hidden away? My God, the thought of him as a child here, clutching onto a bear that he may or may not have considered his only confidante, his security, left me feeling despondent and so very curious.
Did someone bring him here?
Did they hurt him?
Could he have been kidnapped and somehow gotten away, only to end up in this place because he couldn't find his way home?
Did he even have a home?
Was there no one looking for him?
So many questions that I wasn't sure I'd ever learn the answers to, but I wanted to regardless. I wanted to know what happened to him, what brought him here, why he'd stayed. He didn't want me to leave, that much he voiced, but that didn't mean he'd just open up to me either. I wasn't a fool to think he'd be chatty with me. His reason for asking me to stay was probably just to have another living creature around besides the furry scavengers and a stuffed bear that was mute for obvious reasons.
And, of course, I was stuck on the bear again, remembering how that tattered old thing was nestled next to me when I woke up…twice. I smiled as I thought of how endearing it actually was, that maybe he'd done it so that I, too, would feel secure.
It wasn't until I heard another asperous breath - he certainly had the breath thing down pat - that I snapped out of my deliberation and saw his anxious expression, realizing I must look like an idiot sitting there with a smile on my face while saying nothing. "Sorry," I mumbled. "I sort of take head trips often…you know, over think? I guess I tend to do it more when I'm in a situation where I really have no idea what to say or do. That seems to happen quite often in my case.
"I mean, I guess I could talk about myself, but that might make me seem a bit conceited. Well, I could tell you my name, that's not so bad, right? I'm Bella." I certainly didn't expect him to reply back with his name, but I figured at least I could begin with formalities, put him more at ease. He now knew my name, I knew he wasn't going to hurt me, we were on neutral ground. "I could tell you why I came here." I was really grasping at straws here in my attempt to give him what he asked by staying. For all I knew, he just wanted my company, but in silence. However, I was nervous and I talked a lot when I was nervous. "It's kind of funny, in an absurd sort of way. Alice, my best friend, she sort of talked me into it.
"This place, which you may or may not know, has a lot of stories behind it. Kids, teenagers mostly, like to come here and see if it's haunted; that sort of thing. A group Alice and I knew from school convinced us to come along, but I hadn't really wanted to. I agreed because Alice begged me to, telling me how we never really did anything fun. She sort of implied, not in so many words but the meaning was there, that since we're graduated from high school and heading off to college in a few months, time for fun will be over soon." I chuckled as I began the next part.
"I actually believe it's because she secretly knew Jasper was tagging along. He's the guy she's liked for as long as I can remember. She just has this way of knowing things sometimes, and it's kind of spooky. I wonder why she didn't see me, and-" I paused, realizing that I was discussing people he didn't know and probably boring him to death or scaring him.
"Sorry, I tend to ramble." And yet, I kept on. "We could talk about whatever you want; books, music, movies, or if you're into the weather, we could talk about that, not that I really know what it's like right now." I recognized that at this point, not only was I seriously jabbering on, but I was sounding completely inane. And since I was in unchartered territory here, having no clue how to proceed, I figured I may as well try with something that might be of interest to him.
So I slowly stood from where I was, careful not to startle him or agitate my head, and shuffled over to where I'd been lying before. I kneeled down just as gentle as I'd walked there, grabbed the bear, and moved back to the spot I'd just been in. I sat back down, grunting with the movement, holding the bear in my hands.
"You know," I started as I situated myself comfortably against the wall, pulling my legs up just enough to place the bear upright in my lap. "I really like this bear." He must have been perpetually blinking at this point, because I could actually hear the sounds his eyelids made as he opened and closed them repeatedly.
"It's a really nice bear, but you know what's so great about this particular bear right here?" I glanced in his direction as my fingers danced across the matted fur of the bear, meeting his inquisitive gaze. "He keeps the bad dreams away, makes you feel safe. I know I certainly feel safer with him around."
I swear the very moment I finished my sentence, I heard a muted hum from him, as if he were agreeing with me. I fought the urge to smile because he was interacting, it was progress. He could obviously speak, but he didn't for whatever reason, and I was not about to be forceful. We'd work up to that. So I continued on with what comforted him. "I was thinking, because he's such a special bear, I bet he has a special name, too." I waited for some kind of acknowledgement, but was only met with his eyes shifting back and forth between me and the bear.
"If he doesn't, that's okay. We can always give him one. What would be a good, strong name for him?" I sighed, thinking. "How about Lancelot? He was quite the protector, and not to mention, a Knight of King Arthur's Round Table." I had no clue whether he knew the story of Lancelot, but I purposely withheld the fact that history slated him an adulterer with King Arthur's wife. Minus that infraction, I actually liked his character as much as I did Romeo. He had notoriety as a hero.
Besides, we had no worries of Mr. Bear following those same footsteps.
Moments later, I heard him whisper, "L-Lancelot." Not in question, a statement.
I nodded, smiling my approval, and it wasn't merely about the agreement on name choice. "Lancelot."
Once again, after our…well, mostly my exchange in naming his bear, we were propelled back into awkward silence. And honestly, I was okay with that, considering. It was enough that he had made some effort to reach out to me, and he had yet to cower back into that corner. His eyes pretty well stayed trained on me, mostly my face, and he essentially seemed placid, so I must have been doing something right.
Despite the fact that I still couldn't understand why I didn't want to leave him now, I knew very shortly I'd need to. There were people waiting for me, and even though I had this vexing feeling that I should stay, that he needed me, I had to let my family and friends know that I was alright. I owed them that. I could always come back. Yeah, I could do that.
"I'll have to go soon," I told him. "I have to let my dad and my friends know that I'm okay. They're going to worry until I do. But I can come back, if you want me to."
He didn't say anything, remained unmoving for the longest time, and I wasn't sure if he intended to let me know at all, or if maybe he was answering me through his silence. Maybe he didn't want me to come back. And just as I was about to give up, I saw a slight nod of his head.
Oddly enough, I felt relieved by that nod because I had wanted to come back. However, regardless of the fact that I would come back here, I had a fleeting uncertainty of whether I should. Ironically, it didn't matter whether I should or not, I knew I'd still do it, so there was really no point in debating it.
The bigger problem, though, was once I left and made it home, should I tell someone about him, because living here in an abandoned hospital wasn't entirely safe or healthy? And if I did tell about him, would there be someone waiting to hurt him if they found out he was here? I couldn't live with being responsible for that, but I couldn't live with being responsible for keeping quiet about his living inside the hospital and something happening to him because of that.
I just needed a little time to sort things out, just a little bit of time to think once I left here, and then decide. But first, I needed to get home. I gently placed the bear against the wall beside me then stood up. I casually faced him then whispered, "I have to go now, but I promise I'll be back very soon, okay?" I briefly stood stagnant, watching his breathing augment, his body tense. But as much as it hurt to see him this way, I knew I couldn't stay. I had a responsibility to the people who cared about me. "I'm sorry," I whispered hoarsely.
And just as I opened the door, I heard shuffling behind me; he instantly moved back toward the corner. I turned around abruptly, seeing him crouched in that corner, and it became near impossible to leave him because of it. I wanted to reach out to him. I wanted to show him somehow that I wasn't lying about returning, if I didn't get lost trying to leave that is.
"I'll come back," I choked out. "I will." I gripped the door, tears burning at the corners of my eyes. "I just…I wish I knew your name."
As I stepped over the threshold of the doorway, he replied softly, "Edward."