THE DAY SEEMED TO fly past as though the quartet were on auto pilot.
They sat in their classes. There physically, but mentally hung up on the events of the night before (both good and bad).
Stella heard the bell faintly in the back of her mind as she gathered up her untouched books and loaded them into her bag swiftly as she made for the door.
Usually she'd have made small talk with her peers or checked up on her elderly professor but today she just had no time.
She had to find her Dalton.
She knew the night before had affected him more than he let on, he'd put up a facade in order to care for the girl he now found a necessity in his life. He didn't want to worry her.
Dalton however had been too into his art class that he'd miss the bell and was only leaving the classroom as Stella arrived outside.
"Hey." She began as the two took off walking together.
"Hey, what's up?" He smiled down at the girl, he didn't want to keep asking her about last night but secretly hoped she'd bring it up. She didn't.
"Not much, just thought I'd walk back with you." She looked back up at him through her wispy bangs.
He grinned at her whilst throwing his arm over her shoulder and guiding them back to his room.
Upon entering the room the two placed their things down on Dalton's desk and clambered onto his bed, her sitting between his legs.
However, before either could speak Dalton's phone began to buzz and a name was displayed on the screen.
FOSTER.
The boy sighed as he placed his chin on the girls head and picked up his phone. "Hey?" Dalton began.
"Are you okay dude? You've been calling a lot recently." Foster asked, for the first time in years he sounded genuinely worried about his brother.
Dalton leant forward slightly, sighing into the girls hair.
"Tell me everything you remember about my coma." Dalton asked, the girl in-front of him turned in his lap to face him and listen into the conversation. She ran her hand through his hair and down his face, tracing his cheek with her thumb before dropping her hand into his lap. He smiled at her touch, grateful for her comfort.
"You should talk to mom.." Foster voiced from the other end of the line. Stella could faintly hear the conversation and leaned in closer to hear, hoping to vaguely analyse whatever Foster came out with.
"The things I'm drawing, they.." Dalton struggled to find the words and Stella threw him an encouraging smile, attempting to get him to carry on.
"The door?" Foster asked.
"Yeah..and a guy with a hammer?" Dalton informed his brother, desperate to get an answer from him.
Stella looked down to her hands as she fiddled with her rings and nails, dalton slipped his hand into hers and she placed the other one on top.
"I think they could be clues from my past? I don't know..parts that have disappeared because of my coma? I don't know why they're coming out now but they are." Dalton rambled, the grip on Stella's hand growing tighter as she removed her top hand and placed it on his upper bicep to try and calm his ranting and bring his panic back down again.
"I've had this image in my mind for years, mom always says it's not real. It's just a bad dream. But..."
Foster stopped, as if hesitant to tell Dalton more.
"Tell me, little brother. Come on."
Stella looked up at him, why was that so attractive?
"We're in a room somewhere. Like a basement. You remember that?"
Dalton's eyes seemed to flash around the room, alerting Stella. What is going on?
She grabbed her phone and texted Chris and Lizzie through the group-chat to get to the dorm quickly. Both replying with a quick 'okay' and 'omw!'
"Dalton you there?" Foster questioned, no answer.
Abruptly, Dalton reached under Stella's armpits and lifted her off his lap and onto the bed beside him before jumping up to his desk and grabbing the painting he'd placed there mere minutes before.
"Hey Foster, this is Stella. I'm a friend of Daltons, can we call you back?"
"Uh hi? Sure, let me know he's okay."
"Of course, thanks!" Stella hung up and looked to a shaking Dalton. He was now clutching his paint pallet and painting frantically on the piece he'd been hung up on the last few days.
"Dalton? Hey Dalton, speak to me please. What's going on? You're scaring me." Stella approached him, hesitant to touch him in his episode. This was unlike the Dalton she'd seen before. This was frantic, worried, scared and she didn't know what to do.
She prayed her friends would get here soon enough.
She crouched next to him and watched as he flexed his hand, it cramping due to the frantic movements of the paint strokes.
Tears began dripping down his face as the painting came to life. A face becoming more distinguished.
He resembled Dalton and Foster. Yet he was older and angrier. His dad?
Dalton's tears were flowing freely now, faster than before and he was shaking more violently than he had been. Stella turned to him and stood up, she pulled him into her stomach and he grasped his arms around the back of her hoodie, burying his face into the front, desperately trying to keep himself grounded.
He began to let out pained noises, he didn't know what to do with the pain he felt.
His father had tried to kill the people he loved most. His mom. His brother.
Dalton grasped harder, it hurt the girl slightly but she never made a sound. She placed one of her hands on the back of his head and held him, she held the boy as he'd held her the night prior.
She sank onto his knee and his head fell into her neck. His arms wrapped somehow tighter round her upper middle and his screams were louder.
She just held the boy in her arms, desperately trying to stop his pain.
She realised in that moment that maybe this was what love felt like.
The desperation to take away all his pain, all his anger. The trauma he didn't even know he had.
After a while his cries subsided and his grip on his girl loosened. Stella moved her head back to look at him and as she did the lights went out and the two were left in complete darkness.
"Dalton? Dalton! What's going on?" She shook him.
No answer.
He was under.
Stella jumped off his lap and began texting the girls frantically.
STELLA- Guys you need to get here now! He's back in that state, i don't know what to do. I can't help him alone.
LIZZIE- We're together, leaving the elevator now, be careful girl! It's going to be okay.
Stella threw her phone onto the bed and returned to the boy's side.
"Dalton, honey you need to wake up. I don't know what's going on but you're not safe in there alone!" Stella begged.
He was shaking this time, like a dog fighting in their sleep.
"Leave her alone..." he mumbled, faintly above a whisper.
"What? What are you talking about? Leave who alone? Dalton love, help me out here please, I need you to help me help you." She tried yet to no surprise, there was no response.
The door sounded from behind them and Stella jumped up to let the girls in.
"We got here as soon as we could. Wait, he's awake?" Lizzie asked, leaning around Stella to look at the boy.
Stella whirled around, being met face to face with a seemingly very conscious Dalton.
"Oh my god! You scared the shit out of me." Stella wrapped her arms around him and he weakly pulled away after a few seconds, she looked down at him confused but put it down to him being so exhausted. The other two girls had filed into the room and shut the door behind them.
Dalton turned his chair to watch Chris plugging in fairy lights.
"We brought these for you, to illuminate your room just as we illuminate your life." She huffed, pulling the cords and turning the lights on.
"I'm not afraid of the dark anymore..." he drawled, this concerned only Stella, as she looked at the once deeply emotional boy who seemed now void of any expression.
Chris began explaining her opinion on text arguments and Dalton's life choices, the lights switching on and off as she did so.
However, as the lights lit up red, something was different.
Daltons face had lost its colour and the circles around his eyes now darker than ever.
"Dalton?" Stella whispered. He turned and got up, Lizzie placed her hands in Stella's and the other onto Chris' knee, the three girls now all focused on the boy in the corner.
He began to turn slowly. Looking towards the girls.
His arm flew from his side up into the air and all three girls were sent sprawling across the room. Chris hitting the wall behind them, Stella flying towards the door and Lizzie hitting the wall opposite.
Chris and Lizzie, having been thrown harder, were completely out cold yet Stella was left stirring on the floor, in and out of consciousness.
The gash on her forehead now dripping with blood and mixing with the tears on the sides of her face.
He now stood over her, something in his hands that he was wrapping around his palms and wrists.
"Dalton please." She begged, desperately trying to pull the real Dalton through before his monster could do any more harm to her, her friends or the body of her love.
"I swear to God. Come any closer and you'll never be able to have children, I will kick you so hard."
The boy before her looked down, his smirk faltering and his eyes rolled back in his head and he dropped to the floor.
The girl moved to catch him and laid him down, placing a pillow from his bed beneath his head and moving to reconnect the light, praying it may help him find his way back. The two harmed girls in each side of the room beginning to come around, sitting up and looking down at the two on the floor. Both sporting wounds to their facial features. All the girls moved quickly into action, ignoring the dizzy discomfort in their heads.
Stella, Lizzie and Chris scrambled around the room, replugging lights that were going out. Chris reached under the bed to pull the cords back together. All of a sudden the once silent room was filled with screams once again as a rotted head moved from under the bed. Lizzie and Chris reached for each other whilst Stella grabbed Dalton from the floor. Pulling him into her in attempt to save him before saving herself.
Suddenly the man was gone and a gasping Dalton sprung out of Stella's arms and into his desk. He rushed to his black paint and began covering the door frantically as the three girls held each other in shock.
Once the door was fully covered the boy sat back in his chair.
Stella rose from the floor and he got up and turned to face her.
They rushed toward each other but before he could say anything, her hand flew across his face, striking him hard. That sour feeling was however replaced with a rushed feeling of warmth.
Stella's lips pushed against his and her hands tangled at his shoulders. He pushed back, gripped her back as they shared the moment of peace.
Slowly Stella pulled away as she turned to face him once more.
"Never fucking do that again." She scolded.