Don't Scream (Original)

Chapter 5

        For my Saturday activity, I chose meditation. I wouldn't have to talk, and with everyone closing their eyes, no one would notice my shaking. I spent the hour lying down on a plush mat, trying not to get up and run around the hospital screaming bloody murder while looking for an escape. Luckily, the activity instructor wasn't Avery or Crane, and I was now sitting in one of the common rooms, nervously fiddling with a pack of playing cards while searching all around for any sign of the two. I vaguely thought that I might resemble someone in the witness protection program who had pissed off a member of the mob as my frantic eyes scanned the room once more. A large nurse named Murray was watching us. He was a round man with a mustache in his mid-forties, who loved to laugh. He always seemed to be in a good mood and have a kind word for everyone, but I still didn't trust him.
"Hi!"
I nearly jumped a mile as something hit the table I was sitting at. Turning to glare at whoever was dumb enough to startle me when I was this nervous, my eyes happened upon a slight girl standing on the opposite side of the table. Her pale, thin hands were planted firmly on it, palms down, and I knew that they had made the resounding 'smack' noise. She was staring at me with a cheerful smile, and I couldn't stop myself from thinking that she looked like a corpse. Her skin was a shade away from being ash gray, and it was pulled over her long, bony face like wax over a cookie cutter. To say she looked gaunt would be an understatement, and her dull eyes were sunken into their sockets and surrounded by purple bags. I tried not to shudder.
"My name's Eva. I noticed you're new here, and I wanted to say hello."
My hands gripped the hem of my scrub top as I forced myself to talk, and not just stare at her like she was a monster. Her voice sounded like that of a ten year old who had been smoking since she was born. It was almost to the point of squeaky, but held back by the roughness and raspiness of it.
"Um... Hi. I'm Abby." I mumbled. She held out a skeletal hand for me, and I reluctantly took it after a moment's hesitation. It was cold as ice, painfully bony, and I thought I would break it if I squeezed too hard. I also noticed the many scars on her gray skin as she reached out to me. They ran the length and width of her inner arm, seeming to be one on top of the other. I pried my eyes away from the ghastly sight.
"Well Abby, it's nice to meet you." She said while scooting a chair closer to the table and sitting across from me. I nodded my head. "So, what brings you here?" She smiled brightly and leaned forward, lacing her fingers together as if she was interviewing me. I opened my mouth, unsure of what was about to come out, but a dark shadow cut through the center of the table and we both looked up. Dr. Sprite was standing over us, hugging a clipboard to her chest and looking down as if she'd just caught two five year-olds doing something they shouldn't.
"Sorry to interrupt, girls, but I would like to see Abigail alone in my office." Her voice was haughty, without the slightest hint of apology in it. I stood up. "Follow me, Abigail."
I shuffled after her with my head down as Eva watched us go with weary eyes.

         "Okay, Abigail." She sighed as she leaned forward and laced her fingers together in much the same way Eva did. "Your parents had a go telling me what happened, but now I want to hear it from you." She reached over to a small, black box to her left and pressed a red button. "Today is Saturday, December eleventh, 2012, and I have patient Abigail Turner with me." She said in her clipped English accent while staring at me. I was slightly impressed that she was moving on up from scribbling with a pen to using a recorder. "So, Abigail, how about we start with the day your twin Andrew disappeared. Tell me everything. From the event, up until now, and everything in between." She gave me a shit-eating grin and I scowled. A person like her was right in their element working in the mental health field. Getting off on other people's plight; it made me sick. I guess the only other profession close to this though would be a talk show host, but here she could say all the belittling things she wanted and no one would care. I glared at her.
"Like my parents said, it was August twenty-fifth, and we were walking home from a friend's house alone; him behind me. We hadn't spoken for a few minutes, and when I turned around to finally break the silence, only his shoe was there. So I ran home, which was only a minute away, and told my parents. We never found him, only his tattered shirt, case closed." I folded my arms and leaned back in the uncomfortable chair, gazing at Dr. Sprite's cold expression from under my lashes.
"So how did you deal with his disappearance?"
I shrugged.
"I cried, talked to my friends, but didn't do much counseling. I just attended school and went about my life, seeing as I didn’t really have many other choices."
Dr. Sprite nodded carelessly.
"So... Fast forward seven years. Before this October, had Andrew ever manifested himself to you in any way?" She inclined her head and regarded me with a look that seemed as if she suspected me of lying.
"No." I shook my head. "I sometimes dreamt about him and the things we used to do. But not like recently."
She nodded thoughtfully.
"When did he actually start talking to you?"
I was ready to smack her. She was talking to me as if I was a toddler!
"This past October, after my, our birthday." I closed my eyes and sighed. Even though his visits in my dreams had scared me at first,- Dr. Sprite would have to torture this out of me- now I looked forward to them.
"What does he say? And does he come to you at any other time besides your dreams? Is he still eleven years old?"
I glanced at my still pink-slippered feet. I shouldn't be telling her this.
"No, he only comes to me in my dreams. He says he misses me, asks about my life, and..." I swallowed hard and kept my head down. "Tells me he's still alive." I glanced up to see Dr. Sprite reach into her lab coat breast pocket and pull out her pen. Ah, now came the note taking. I continued. "He's also older in my dreams. He's my age."
Dr. Sprite looked up from her note pad and fixed me with an incredulous stare.
"And how do you know that?" She asked, her voice going up slightly. I looked at her straight in the eye.
"Because I do. I can tell it's him, because I can see the seven years difference on his eleven-year old face. He may have aged, but anybody who saw him when he was younger would no doubt swear that the older guy who's in my dreams is Andrew." My voice was hard and defensive, but her ridiculing, holier-than-thou self deserved a lot worse. She raised an eyebrow.
"Okay. Next topic. Tell me what happened the night of December third, a little over a week ago."
I didn't hesitate, just launched into the story. The sooner this whole interrogation was over, the better.
"I had just come home from Christmas shopping and was headed for the front door. Unfortunately, our garage is detached, so it takes a good minute to cross the yard and reach the house. As I was walking, I saw something odd in my yard. It was a woman lying in the snow with her face turned towards me. There was blood around her, and when I stopped, I saw a few figures lift up from her body and run at me. And that's all I remember."
Dr. Sprite had put down her pen and resumed her previous position, her lips puckered in a tight, disbelieving manner.
"How many were there? Did you get a good look at them? And how did you come to the conclusion that they were vampires?"
I shook my head.
"There were three or four. And they all looked like dark, massive shapes. They moved so fast it was hard to see anything, except for their fangs. They had prominent fangs, and no human can move as fast as they did. They also had blood all over their faces."
Dr. Sprite wrote some more on her pad.
"Well, the police report said she was attacked by wild dogs or wolves. And I thought you said you couldn't see anything?"
I scoffed and stood from my seat, ignoring her last jab.
"Yeah, which is funny because in the eighteen years I've lived in that house, I've never heard or seen any wild dogs or wolves. Now if you're done, I'm going to go eat dinner." I turned as Dr. Sprite hit another button on the recorder.
"Oh, just one more thing. Have you ever had any aversion, attraction, interest or fascination with vampires?" She tilted her head slightly, and by the sound of her voice, she was mocking me. I turned my head to glare at her.
"No. I've got better things to do than worry about vampires. Or, I did."
The door slammed loudly behind me as I left her office.

         The dining hall was surprisingly abuzz at dinner. I would have thought that the constant chatter would have at least slowed down when the patients shoveled food into their mouths, but no. I sat at a long, rectangular table with about nine other patients, poking my vegetarian lasagna with my plastic spoon absently. The din reminded me a little of the cafeteria at school, filled with students eating and talking. Only, in my case, I was surrounded by people who had major mental illnesses, and the food was at least edible. I shoved a forkful of lukewarm lasagna into my mouth and chewed thoughtfully. After dinner, I was heading straight to bed. I didn't want to talk to anybody, and I was extremely tired. I chalked it up to Avery draining an unknown amount of my blood. Speaking of which, I glanced up to see him and Crane surveying the hall from opposite positions of the room. There were other nurses running around as well, but they kept breezing in and out. Avery and Crane were the only stationary two. They looked as calm and emotionless as ever, and I quickly lost my appetite. Rising from my seat, I grabbed my flimsy foam tray and lowered my eyes. I didn't want to look at those monsters. I hurried over to the garbage, dropped my half-eaten lasagna in it, and quickly made my way to the Corridor A exit. I had almost made it when a large pair of immaculately white tennis shoes appeared in my path. I stopped short, drawing in a ragged breath. What now? My eyes slowly traveled up Avery's tall form. He gazed down at me, his pale mouth smirking slightly in amusement.
"Going somewhere?" He asked softly. My face grew hot with anger as I tugged on the bottom of my shirt.
"Yeah, I was headed for my room."
Avery was blocking the whole door, and there was absolutely no way to get around him. Crane was glancing over at us from the front of the room while alternately watching the dining patients.
"Afraid not, Abigail. All the patients have to stay here until everyone is done. That way we can keep an eye on you guys while you're in one place."
I glared up at his flawless face as his smirk turned into a grin.
"Besides, it's just polite." He whispered. A weak growl left my throat as I held myself back.
"Don't you dare talk to me about manners, you bloodsucker!" I hissed. Never in a million years could I have dreamed up a living hell like this. A week ago, the thoughts of a psychiatric hospital and vampires never would have crossed my mind. Now, both were a reality; one I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I sat down heavily at an empty, circular table on the side of the room. Behind me, Crane and Avery watched with careful eyes. Planting my head in the palm of my hand, I glanced up at the caged-in clock on the opposite wall. Dinner had fifteen more minutes to go, so I silently fumed and waited to be released, trying not to cry.

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        Andrew grabbed my wrist and lead me to a swing set in the middle of a park. It was pitch black out, but the nearly-full moon shone more than enough light down through the cloudless sky. I laughed and ran with my twin through the grass.
"I've missed you, Andrew! I wish things could go back to the way they used to be." My expression grew grim as I plopped myself onto a swing and pumped my legs. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew Andrew was gone and that I was still hospitalized, even though I was outside with my twin right in front of me. He was much taller than me now, but very handsome. His deep brown, shaggy hair looked like a sweater could have been knit from it, he had long lashes that made his hazel eyes smolder, and his face looked like one you would see in a fashion magazine.
"I've missed you too, Abby. But don't worry, we'll see each other again soon." He gave me a hundred-watt smile as the tips of my sneakers almost touched his broad chest. His perfect ivory teeth seemed to glow brightly as he flashed them at me.
"I'm going to come for you and take you away from that place. Then we'll be happy again."
I gazed thoughtfully at him as I swung closer, then further away.
"But how will we get past the vampires?" I talked like the whole thing was a natural, everyday occurrence. Andrew's baby face hardened, and I was almost sure I saw a sparkle in his darkening eyes.
"They won't be a problem, Abby. I can assure you. And they will all pay for hurting you when I get there." His voice rang darkly in my ears like an echo, and then the view of his beautiful face popped like a balloon. I was thrown back into my own, inert body as the persistent sound of knocking finally registered.
"Come in." I croaked and threw the warm, scratchy blanket off of me. I was oddly relaxed this morning, but left with the strange, empty feeling I always had after an Andrew dream. Jensen opened my door halfway and stared at me with lifeless eyes as I sat up.
"It's eight-thirty, Abigail. Breakfast time, if you want any."
I nodded and rubbed my crusty eyes.
"Sure."
"I'll be waiting out in the hall whenever you're ready." His calm, cool voice had the opposite effect on me as he spoke. It reminded me of the other two; the vampires. Jensen closed my door soundlessly and I eased myself off the bed. As I quickly changed into my day scrubs, (first making sure the diamond was free of any unwanted eyes), I thought about skipping breakfast and crawling back into the mediocre bed. I wasn't really a morning person, and I'd have liked to continue where my last dream had left off. Unfortunately, my growling stomach forced me to open the door and follow Jensen to the dining hall.