\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
    December    
SMTWTFS
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
Archive RSS
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/698159-Caramel-mood
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
by Wybo Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Book · Other · #1679268
Somewhere to capture all sorts of writing
#698159 added June 4, 2010 at 6:06pm
Restrictions: None
Caramel mood
Rounded

Sunlight in the snowfield

Stoned

Golden Caramel mood

Slowly walking towards the sunset barefoot

Something there flickering at the back of his mind

Doesn’t matter

Nothing can get past the bliss

Gwen screaming, blocked out as the guitar kicks in

Then it starts to build to a crescendo and he’s lost , utterly lost, he runs around the padded room, no one can see in and he cant see out and if he falls over its soft and luxurious everywhere.

He’s never felt so completely without care or pain or as loose and numbed.

Gwen screaming, blood running down her face

He turns to an imagined sound or movement but there’s nothing there

The music takes him way again, this time he sees on the wall in front of him the ocean, in Hawaii,  10 years ago when he went with Gwen, their first time away, he’d taught her how to surf. He can see her now standing on the board. She fell off time and time again, the first three days that’s all she did, fall over, but she kept wanting to go back.

If you can do it I want to learn

And she’d get that slightly stubborn look on her face.

He knew she’d just keep going.

Her face now as she stands without falling for the first time and slowly rides into the beach on a small wave, she’s beaming and he’s running towards her and she leaps off the board into his arms nearly choking him. They are rolling around now in the shallows, waves rolling over them, he can taste the salty water and feel the sand on his skin and smell her salty hair.

The screen’s blank now though and Gwen’s not there.

He remembers the scream now and looks around him again, trying to figure out what’s happening. The music has stopped and it’s utterly silent in the room now. He turns round slowly in a circle looking for the door, it was over by the screen he thought but the screen is gone now and all that’s there is the soft white padding of the, cell…

He’s in a padded cell; even a padded cell in a mental hospital would have a door or a window or something to watch him by.

There must be a camera, maybe in the light up there. They were watching him, somehow he felt certain of that now and he needed to act as if he didn’t know, it was vital they didn’t know.

He walked around with a carefree swagger, trying not to make it too obvious he was trying to look carefree.

He couldn’t resist a look up at the lamp every now and then and he was sure he saw some tiny movement up there as he moved, the lens following him, maybe, zooming in and out.

Gwen needed him to get out and he would get out. He just had to figure it out, wait for a bit, she’d know he wouldn’t let her down, he’d be there but not yet. He might have to wait and listen and watch and soon, or maybe in a day or two he’d work it out. They might be clever but he was a genius, he was top of his class, of any class, he couldn’t be outfoxed, and that was the genius of it. No one really knew how clever he was.

He seemed like an average kind of guy, did quite well, didn’t seem to get into trouble, managed to cope with life, but nothing stood out, or so they thought.

That’s why they’d probably thought they could get away with this, but they couldn’t. He’d known, he knew it was a trick, the music, the drugs, the hallucinations.

They had Gwen and he would make them pay for that, whatever they’d done to her he would do to them three times over, only way to teach them

His Dad taught him that, or something like that.

If you get in a fight, you either have to run, or be prepared to do far worse than they are, kill them if necessary.

He was only 11 at the time and he freaked out a bit, thinking he’d have to kill anyone who gave him a dead leg in the playground or put chewing gum in his hair. Eventually he’d got the hang of it though, well he didn’t really ever have to do anything like that but he knew he was ready, he’d been ready all his life, waiting for a moment like this so Gwen, I know they’ve got you, but don’t worry.

He was shouting now he realised and that was good, they would hear him and see him on the camera and think their stupid plan had worked that he’d gone crazy and they’d think , soon, that they could come in and get him, he wouldn’t be a risk, would he, if he was loony. They could just sedate him and trick him into staying there longer so they could do things to Gwen, horrible things. He saw her bleeding again then and he screamed out in a terrified high pitch.

No! Gwen No!

Those fuckers. Once he’d had a bit more time to think he would work out exactly how to get out and get Gwen and get them. He was going to fuck them up and no one would be able to stop him.

The music started again and he swayed from side to side feeling his brain melting and the air around his head turning warm and soft and smelling of caramel.

He lay down in the room and stared at the ceiling smiling ecstatically.


** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **

Steve Wybourn

** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **

© Copyright 2010 Wybo (UN: wybell at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Wybo has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/698159-Caramel-mood