Young Writers Society

It was a long night. Ryan hardly slept. And when he did, Tad’s eyes were there. Pleading. Along the line, the dream had shifted to long tunnel. A small dot had been at the end, blinking. The end. It seemed impossible to reach. Most of the night, he spent looking at the ceiling, counting. Sheep. Cars. Numbers of pi. Anything to help him sleep. Ryan finally fell asleep around four in the morning, ignoring the alarm. It rang, crisp and firm. An annoying bird that shrieked in his ear at precisely five in the morning. Skipping work was the best bet. Tad would be fine without him for one day. He firmly believed that there should be a break between the two. A slight change that’ll be preceding for the rest of the month.

And later that day, he had called the office, explaining his absence. His voice drawn out, acting out the false cheerfulness. Matthew had sent him text messages with far too many exclamation marks for Ryan’s liking. He threw his phone somewhere, probably near the hotel chair in the corner of the room and fell face down into the bed. The coolness slowly hugged him. The sounds of the hotel room quietly sounded, the rings of the front desk, whispers rising up in throats of the secret keepers, and the hush tones of a piano playing in the lobby.

He later woke up around four thirty, jolting with the sudden realization that he had skipped work. Of course, it slowly leveled to the conclusion of a personal day. His phone, which charged nearby, was vibrating. Ryan yawned, turning on the phone. Dozen or so notifications had popped up, first beginning at noon and stopped at two forty five.

10 missed calls from Matthew

7 new voice mails

You have a new email from: Dr. Matthew Hemlock

2 new messages

As to why his phone was vibrating, Ryan didn’t know. Sliding lazily right to unlock his phone, his home screen. A picture of a wolf howling at the moon. It had came with his phone and was the only wallpaper on there. Moving his eyes, he looked at the message icon. A bright red number two blared, contrasting the background. Did something happen with Tad? Maybe it is nothing. Matthew is being Matthew again, probably. And with that, Ryan shut off his phone again, tossing it onto the bedside table. Running a hand through his hair, he looked outside. Clouds are overlapping the blue sky with red houses angled against it. Coffee houses. Smoke curls, fire from the dragon’s belly. Reaching the cloud’s edge.

A bird flew through the smoke, the flying pattern messed up. He saw the red hues of the feathers, glimmering in the sunlight. The blue underbelly. It then flew somewhere else, probably home or the park. Ryan slowly let out a breath, regaining composure and once again ran a hair through his hair. I need to take a shower, he thought.

Walking past the mirror on the way to the bathroom, he caught a glance of himself. Thinning brown hair framed his face, weary brown eyes stared halfheartedly, and there was a slight stubble. Groaning, Ryan trudged towards the bathroom.

Brown pools stare at him as Ryan steps out of the shower, staring in the fogging mirror. Water lines fall down, creating roads. It traces unevenly, splits and then comes together. Wiping the fog away, he sees a clear reflection. He ignored these brown pools, looking at the shaving cream. The lids was dotted with dry shaving cream, the navy blue lid cracked. Ryan sighed, running a hand over his chin. I’ll be fine for a week or so.

He dressed rather quickly, growing used to the cold wind that whipped through his leather jacket and made a mental note to wear a thicker shirt instead of the white t-shirt he was wearing now. The streets were busy at six, couples were lounging around in cafes staring lovingly at each other, pink flowers were on the tables. Is it February already? He glanced around, looking at the store fronts. Giant posters, stuck with tape, read: CHOCOLATE ON SALE! 50% OFF ALL or something similar to that. The store he was in front of, Maple’s Chocolate Shoppe, was closing. The floor looked clean, shelves barely filled, Ryan noticed just from standing outside. He didn’t have much cash on him. Only a few dollar bills and a spare button for his coat.

Opening the store door, a bell rang. A young lady was working at the counter, leaning lazily against the register and reading a magazine. Her blue hair was tied back, her ears sporting an array of piercings, and was wearing an array of band bracelets.

“Ah, hello. Are you guys open?” Ryan asked as he walked up to the counter. The girl looked up and blew a bubble. It popped, the scent of mango lingering in the air.

“Sir, if we weren’t open, you wouldn’t be inside.”

“Right, of course.”

He moved slowly away from the counter as the young lady returned to reading. While most of the aisles were empty, in the back, there were a shelf of chocolate boxes. Ryan picked up a box, the plastic clinging to his fingertips, as he read the contains. He sighed, displeased, placing the box back onto the shelf. Faintly the bell was sounded as Ryan continued viewing the boxes until he got bored. He felt bad for not buying anything so he stopped along the way to leave and grabbed a small box of peanut butter cups.

When he made it to the front desk, there was a girl with long brown hair, staring intently at the display behind the blue hair girl.

“Excuse me but are you in line?” Ryan asked, quietly. The long brown haired girl spun around. She had brown eyes, shaped evenly with eyeliner wings. Across her nose was a bridge of freckles. Ryan felt like he had seen this face before, every detail seemed to combine into a blurry picture.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She mumbled, moving out of the way. He smiled slightly, placing the peanut butter cups on the counter. The blue haired girl blinked lazily.

“Is that all you’re buying today?”

Ryan nodded. The blue haired girl sighed, ringing up everything slowly and without a care in the world. Ryan looked behind her, at the same display the girl before had looked at. There was chocolate castle with towers. Waffle cones were the tops of these towers with red flags. There were white chocolate doors.

“Who made that castle?” Ryan found himself asking. The blue haired girl looked back in disinterest before sighing.

“The store’s owner’s father made it for a present to his daughter. It won a blue ribbon at some contest. It’ll be $1.23, sir.” Ryan handed her the money and left. When he left, the long brown haired girl followed him with her eyes. She pressed her lips together, leaving the store soon after.

To begin with, Ryan didn’t like chocolate. During his childhood, his mother would bribe his siblings and Ryan with chocolate to do chores. It was fun at first. That thrill of getting free stuff for payment. He didn’t realize it then but it was almost stepping stones on how to live in the real world. Not his imaginative life, filled with towns of unknown variety and filled with creative people. Chocolate became the currency of the household and it got to the point where, even his siblings, would give their chocolate to friends.

So, from this friendly action, the sight of chocolate made his stomach stir unpleasantly. Realizing this, Ryan decided to give the peanut butter cups to Matthew or Tad. He looked around him. Buildings touched the cloudy sky, poking their point through the soft fluff. A yellow bird flew in Ryan’s line of vision, landing quietly on a tree. It called loudly, echoing in Ryan’s thoughts. He didn’t know why he focused on the small details in everything. Perhaps because he didn’t like looking at the ground.

“Dr. Manhattan?” a voice called from behind. Ryan turned around, confused. The same girl from the chocolate shop had followed him, gripping onto the strap of her purse.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, you can.” She paused, looking down at the ground and then looked at him. Her eyes were pleading.

“When will Tad Jackson be better?”