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Clash of Heavens - Chapter 2
The Second Chapter. You can find the prologue and the first chapter here.
Although this story might not fit its name for now, it will. Just be pacient and wait for the next chapters.
Feedback apreciated
The Second Chapter. You can find the prologue and the first chapter here.
Although this story might not fit its name for now, it will. Just be pacient and wait for the next chapters.
Horrified. Alone. Abandoned. Repressed. Out casted. Feelings rushed through him like an unstoppable train, increasing their beat with each heart pound.
The room had no walls, only mirrors. In the floor, in the ceiling, even in the door. What sort of wicked torture could that be? Showing poor kids their deformities in every direction, extending through an endless nightmare of reflections.
Liam felt sick, it got hard to breathe. However, he controlled himself and just stared at the face in front of him, some stranger’s face that someone had put in that mirror. No, unfortunately, that face was Liam’s. He could see his eyes and hair. Those remained as they were. Green and blond. The tears, on the other hand, he couldn’t control, and got loose. His eyes shone as the little drops fell, washing his cheeks, falling into his open, shocked mouth. The boy felt the salted tears, and slowly managed to close it.
He stared for hours, looking carefully, examining every detail of his new face.
He wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t sound. He wanted to say something, to hear his own voice, so that he’d know he was alive. And, then, with a tremendous effort, he asked:
“How long was I asleep?”
“One year,” the nurse said.
“What happened?”
“You were hit by a lightning.”
That would be enough for now. He’d have to swallow small pieces of information at a time. The physical comatose was over. Liam was now in danger of falling into a psychological one. The shock was too much. First, Curt’s death and now this?! How would he live like that? Each breathing hurt, each blinking was tiresome. He kneeled. His face was now washed with tears.
“Why me?” he asked, sobbing, just as was that day at the cemetery. “Am I so evil that all I deserve is the death of those I love and myself turning into a freak? Is that it?”
“Oh, dear… It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Nurse Jane answered, only he wasn’t talking to her, but to a higher entity. Not God. Liam didn’t believe in God. Not anymore. He was talking to whoever would hear him. Really hear him. Understand him. Not just give him empty words, like Nurse Jane. He needed someone who could give him some real answers. What was all that for? Why did he have to suffer that much? Where were all these happenings leading to? He knew that this wasn’t random, it couldn’t. Curt’s death hadn’t been random. The lightning hadn’t been random. Surely, there was more to come, and that wouldn’t be random either.
Hours passed, and he cried. Just when Liam thought he’d run out of tears, another wave of them would rush down his cheeks. Somewhere in time, he finally fell asleep.
Liam woke up in his hospital room, but this time the machines were gone and he wasn’t tied up to the bed. There was a bedside table in the left side of the bed, with a hot chocolate cup and a clock marking 9AM, the seventh October 2015, Wednesday. He got up. The sunlight kissed the room calmly. Particles of dust floated in the light beams. Near the window was a chair. Liam grabbed the cup and sat there, drinking the chocolate and watching the outside, but all he could see was the hospital’s concrete parking lot, an endless gray field. He was nearly finished with the drink, when something captured his eye. A butterfly was flying right in front of the window. It was so beautiful and colorful: an enormous explosion of deep blue, just as the sky, with splashes of green, like the grass, and springs of yellow, as the sun. That sight made tears rush down Liam’s face once more, but these weren’t tears of sadness. They weren’t tears of happiness either. These were something… else. Something between rage and serenity, a perfect balance between every feeling one could experience.
Without thinking, the boy opened the window and reached for the butterfly, very smoothly. The insect hovered over Liam’s stretched finger for a bit, then landed on it. For brief seconds, it was as if time had stopped for both boy and animal. Then, the butterfly flew away.
He watched hover through the air. A perfect creature, such a beauty… and he was the beast. How could something so delicate not fear the monster in that room?
Life is strange, he thought. Indeed it was. He wished time could stop. To be able to relive that moment over and over again.
Moments later, Nurse Jane came into the room.
“Good morning, dear,” after her great performance in that room of hers, she now sounded rather bitter.
“I know.”
“What do you know, dear?”
“I know now what I must do. I must fight. Perhaps my friend died for a reason and I was turned into… this for a reason, but I also survived for a reason: So that I’d keep fighting. I will not give up. I am finding out why I’m still alive, why Curt is not. There’s a purpose for everything and I’m discovering my purpose,” What do you say to that, hum? You look disappointed for not seeing me in pieces.
She did look so. Her voice lost a bit of the usual energy, when she spoke.
“Well, you’ll be glad to know that you’ll be getting out of here soon enough. We’ve made you some tests and everything appears to be fine.”
In that moment, Liam felt something he’d never even dare dreaming about: joy. He was going home! Back to his family! Family… a chill filled him. His mother didn’t seem herself the last time he’d seen her, besides the euphoria of seeing him awake. Something wasn’t right. He could feel it. More tragedies awaited him at home. None than less, he smiled.
“Good,” he said. “That’s… really good!”
Jane looked at him for moments, then asked:
“Is there something you need?”
“No, thanks. I’m good,” the sooner she got away from him, the better. He didn’t trust her, not even a bit. She was cunning, and cunning people are to be careful with.
“Very well. Just call if you want something, alright, dear?”
“Alright.”
The room had no walls, only mirrors. In the floor, in the ceiling, even in the door. What sort of wicked torture could that be? Showing poor kids their deformities in every direction, extending through an endless nightmare of reflections.
Liam felt sick, it got hard to breathe. However, he controlled himself and just stared at the face in front of him, some stranger’s face that someone had put in that mirror. No, unfortunately, that face was Liam’s. He could see his eyes and hair. Those remained as they were. Green and blond. The tears, on the other hand, he couldn’t control, and got loose. His eyes shone as the little drops fell, washing his cheeks, falling into his open, shocked mouth. The boy felt the salted tears, and slowly managed to close it.
He stared for hours, looking carefully, examining every detail of his new face.
He wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t sound. He wanted to say something, to hear his own voice, so that he’d know he was alive. And, then, with a tremendous effort, he asked:
“How long was I asleep?”
“One year,” the nurse said.
“What happened?”
“You were hit by a lightning.”
That would be enough for now. He’d have to swallow small pieces of information at a time. The physical comatose was over. Liam was now in danger of falling into a psychological one. The shock was too much. First, Curt’s death and now this?! How would he live like that? Each breathing hurt, each blinking was tiresome. He kneeled. His face was now washed with tears.
“Why me?” he asked, sobbing, just as was that day at the cemetery. “Am I so evil that all I deserve is the death of those I love and myself turning into a freak? Is that it?”
“Oh, dear… It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Nurse Jane answered, only he wasn’t talking to her, but to a higher entity. Not God. Liam didn’t believe in God. Not anymore. He was talking to whoever would hear him. Really hear him. Understand him. Not just give him empty words, like Nurse Jane. He needed someone who could give him some real answers. What was all that for? Why did he have to suffer that much? Where were all these happenings leading to? He knew that this wasn’t random, it couldn’t. Curt’s death hadn’t been random. The lightning hadn’t been random. Surely, there was more to come, and that wouldn’t be random either.
Hours passed, and he cried. Just when Liam thought he’d run out of tears, another wave of them would rush down his cheeks. Somewhere in time, he finally fell asleep.
Liam woke up in his hospital room, but this time the machines were gone and he wasn’t tied up to the bed. There was a bedside table in the left side of the bed, with a hot chocolate cup and a clock marking 9AM, the seventh October 2015, Wednesday. He got up. The sunlight kissed the room calmly. Particles of dust floated in the light beams. Near the window was a chair. Liam grabbed the cup and sat there, drinking the chocolate and watching the outside, but all he could see was the hospital’s concrete parking lot, an endless gray field. He was nearly finished with the drink, when something captured his eye. A butterfly was flying right in front of the window. It was so beautiful and colorful: an enormous explosion of deep blue, just as the sky, with splashes of green, like the grass, and springs of yellow, as the sun. That sight made tears rush down Liam’s face once more, but these weren’t tears of sadness. They weren’t tears of happiness either. These were something… else. Something between rage and serenity, a perfect balance between every feeling one could experience.
Without thinking, the boy opened the window and reached for the butterfly, very smoothly. The insect hovered over Liam’s stretched finger for a bit, then landed on it. For brief seconds, it was as if time had stopped for both boy and animal. Then, the butterfly flew away.
He watched hover through the air. A perfect creature, such a beauty… and he was the beast. How could something so delicate not fear the monster in that room?
Life is strange, he thought. Indeed it was. He wished time could stop. To be able to relive that moment over and over again.
Moments later, Nurse Jane came into the room.
“Good morning, dear,” after her great performance in that room of hers, she now sounded rather bitter.
“I know.”
“What do you know, dear?”
“I know now what I must do. I must fight. Perhaps my friend died for a reason and I was turned into… this for a reason, but I also survived for a reason: So that I’d keep fighting. I will not give up. I am finding out why I’m still alive, why Curt is not. There’s a purpose for everything and I’m discovering my purpose,” What do you say to that, hum? You look disappointed for not seeing me in pieces.
She did look so. Her voice lost a bit of the usual energy, when she spoke.
“Well, you’ll be glad to know that you’ll be getting out of here soon enough. We’ve made you some tests and everything appears to be fine.”
In that moment, Liam felt something he’d never even dare dreaming about: joy. He was going home! Back to his family! Family… a chill filled him. His mother didn’t seem herself the last time he’d seen her, besides the euphoria of seeing him awake. Something wasn’t right. He could feel it. More tragedies awaited him at home. None than less, he smiled.
“Good,” he said. “That’s… really good!”
Jane looked at him for moments, then asked:
“Is there something you need?”
“No, thanks. I’m good,” the sooner she got away from him, the better. He didn’t trust her, not even a bit. She was cunning, and cunning people are to be careful with.
“Very well. Just call if you want something, alright, dear?”
“Alright.”
Feedback apreciated
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