Scene 6
Matthew just stared at him, his mind a quiet void. Anthony was a fellow inmate of this mental institution, a friend, a kindred spirit in this bizarre existence. "Y-yeah," Matthew stammered, his voice a hoarse whisper. "I'm fine, just... tired."
Anthony's smile didn't reach his eyes. "You don't look fine. You went quiet after your session with Dr. West. How'd it go?"
"Oh you know, sane old, same old. Just another episode of hallucinations."
Anthony's eyes widened slightly. "Oh, man. That's rough." He clapped Matthew on the shoulder again, a comforting gesture that felt like a painful reminder of his lack of control. "But that's what the pills are for, right? To help us get better."
Matthew nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on Anthony's face. "Yeah," he mumbled, his voice flat.
"Well, lunch is in fifteen," Anthony said, his tone turning more upbeat. "Let's go see what's on the menu, today." He gave Matthew a gentle shove in the direction of the cafeteria. "And who knows... might get your chance with that girl."
"Right... the girl." Matthew said in thought as the words of Anthony, a beacon of hope in this gray world, were a stark contrast to the sterile halls and hushed conversations that defined this place. Matthew's mind, a placid lake of forced calm, rippled with the mention of her. The girl. The one who haunted his waking thoughts and occupied the space between his dreams and his reality. A subtle warmth, a fragile tendril of emotion that the pills hadn't quite managed to extinguish, spread through his chest.
"Didn't know her name..." His inner voice, a whisper in the quiet expanse of his mind, began to describe her. "...She was just 'THE GIRL.'"
"She wasn't like Jade or Chloé or any of those hot, weird narcissists, no she was a complete mystery. Seen her sooo many times and never once spoken. Compared to the rest, she was perfection, all angles and soft curves, a gaze of a fearless spirit that should also should be drawing in people but i guess they all too insane to noticr. Her hair, a shade of crimson, a fiery contrast to the dull gray uniform. It was long, going past her shoulders and was a cascade of waves. Oh, and sometimes, when she's just lost in thought, sitting alone by her table, she would just tuck a stray strand behind her ear and just make my heart ache wuth tenderness, such a simple gesture with a huge effect.
And... MY. GOD. Her eyes, a clear blue sky just before dusk—a cerulean so deep and profound it felt like looking into an endless sea."
"Huh... Never seen her smile before, well, not a genuine one."
"Hey!" Anthony's voice snapped through Matthew's thoughts. "There you go again. Zoning out in a middle of a convo... again, Matthew."
Matthew blinked, the familiar cafeteria buzzing around him. The clatter of trays, the drone of hushed conversations, the smell of lukewarm mystery meat—it was all a dull, predictable reality. He was sitting at their usual table, a tray already in front of him. The food was a familiar, unappetizing sight: a gloppy pile of what looked like mashed potatoes, a piece of dry chicken, and a cup of water. He stared at it, a faint sense of confusion lingering at the edges of his pill-dulled mind.
"Huh, when did we...?" he began, his voice flat, but Anthony cut him off with a sly grin.
"There she is," Anthony said, his eyes flicking past Matthew. He nudged Matthew's arm with his elbow. "The girl. Your mystery girl."
"There she is indeed," Matthew said in thought as his head turned, his gaze following Anthony's. The girl. She sat alone at a table across the room, her crimson hair a streak of fire against the muted gray of her uniform. Matthew and Anthony watched as she picked at her food, a small, solitary figure in the noisy cafeteria. Matthew's breath caught in his chest. The dull ache of the pills and the sterile calm of his mind were momentarily forgotten, replaced by a fragile, fluttering warmth.
He found himself staring, completely captivated. He had seen her countless times, a silent fixture in the monotony of his days, but he had never truly understood the effect she had on him. She was an anomaly, a splash of vibrant color in a world of gray and white.
She caught their gaze, her clear blue eyes locking onto theirs for a brief, startling moment. Both boys looked away quickly, a flush of embarrassment creeping up their necks.
"Go talk to her," Anthony whispered, his voice low.
"No, now's... now's not the right time," Matthew said, the words feeling foreign and heavy on his tongue.
"Not the right time?!" Anthony's voice was a low hiss of frustration. "You've said that a hundred times! Just go—"
"No," Matthew said, cutting him off, the word a flat, empty sound.
"Put on your big boy pants and talk to her."
Suddenly, a voice cut through the background noise of the cafeteria, a voice so clear and melodic it startled them both. "Hello."
!?
Both Matthew and Anthony's heads snapped up. Standing by their table, a slight smile playing on her lips, was the girl. His mind, still placid and empty from the pills, began to race, a new kind of panic bubbling up inside him. Is this real? Am I hallucinating again? Is this another trick?