"Boo-Bear, what are you up to?" Thomas called out, as he approached a seven-year-old Emmett.
"I am trying to colour Spider-Man, but it is not working, Tommy. Why is it not working?" Emmett frowned at his handiwork.
"It is not that difficult surely, you can see that?" He quipped peering down at his work.
"But I cannot do it, the crayon slips from my hand whenever I try to fill in the colour, why do I have to fit in?" He complained, shaking his head in frustration.
"Boo-Bear, you are too stressed for a seven-year-old, and whoever said that you have to fit in?" He asked sighing at his antics.
"But Mumma says that I should try to colour properly, otherwise, it wouldn't look neat," Emmett told him as he scribbled something in his sketchpad.
"Well, Mum is right but do you want to know something, brother?" Thomas questioned.
"Is it about the brownie that you stole yesterday from the oven when I wasn't looking?" He grinned at his stunned expression.
"Actually, I was going to say something about the colours but you are very observant for a kid, Emmett, I have to tread carefully now." He joked, eyes glinting in mischief.
"Thank you, Tommy. So, what do you want to tell me?" Emmett was curious to know as he expectantly looked at his brother.
"The colours, should fit in well within the given image because they make it look good and neat, right? But, you don't have to adjust to its standards, Emmett. You can make your own colours, mix them up with your skills, you should never try to fit in with something if there is no purpose, or if it will cause you to give away the very crayon that is like your weapon. Even if it is not fitting in with your calibre and imagination, just try to concentrate on making it work your way, maybe you'd want to switch the colours, grip your favourite crayon a bit harder? But don't you stop on the account of making mistakes, or trying to keep up with an idea that is not yours, do you understand?" He summarised.
"So, I should switch colours then?" Emmett looked dazed but Thomas knew that he wouldn't understand it yet.
"Yes, whatever you fancy, Boo-Bear, you are going to understand this one day, though that you do not have to try so hard just to fit in with the crowd." He told him as he ruffled his hair.
"Tommy, is that your sketchbook?" He pointed out.
"Yes, it is. I was going to draw the cherry blossom tree." He shrugged it off.
"May I take it for some time?" Emmett asked hesitatingly.
"Okay, sure. Here you go." Thomas handed him his favourite sketchbook.
"I will return it to you, I promise." He promised, eyes shining in delight as he quickly flipped the pages.
"It is fine with me. Plus, I am craving some chocolate, so I would have to run to the nearest store anyway." He sighed.
"I want one too." He declared.
"I will bring one for you," Thomas called out as he glanced at Emmett with a fond smile, before leaving, he was too pure for this world, he thought.
"Indigo dream, indigo dream,
bright blue sunshine of esteem.
Turquoise heart in a heartbreak stream,
tantalising teal eyes in an endless strife-scheme.
Imbued in this blue-green hue of my life's beam,
is this wish wistful that does beseem.
Like Sapphires in the Diamond-Sky that gleam,
to only shine brightly amidst an ocean of desire-deem.
Indigo dream, indigo dream,
veneered in my love-languish to this extreme.
I can see what it is like to think of the cobalt-cream,
of his touch do I think it to be a pipe dream.
Indigo coaxed cotton clouds of my heartbeat,
I might build this air castle as our hearts-heath.
To please my fancy of marine hued underneath,
the semblance of my sentient psyche that sheathes,
my indigo dreams, my only indigo dreams."
With a sigh, he scrawled the words across the parchment of paper, scribbling the letters with half a heart. Yearning, like a fascination fiesta for the foolishly irrational, hindered the lifestream from some lovesick, love-mused fools and Emmett, was, unfortunately, one of them. Strayed afar with a wandering mind, he longed to lament for the loss of his touch, caresses love-lit embedded in the symphony of his beats; he wished to foresee himself in his embrace, sheltered away in his hold-held high like the holy red-velvet lanterns of holy January, oathed in blooming jejunity of a new year, the warmth enveloping sentience and brought forth, only by him; the boy of his dreams.
Forlorn, bequeathed beneath this festive ire of his affectation, was this question hampering his rainbow dreams, echoing the only seams of why he couldn't see him, as he twitched, tickled and tackled his mind to recollect the shattered glass-like thoughts, he couldn't help but doze off, eyes half-open, dazed to the core as if he was done for, he thought before being startled by a voice.
"Emmett, can we talk?"
"Arthur?" Emmett called out, a bit confused.
"How are you holding up?" He was quick to ask as he entered into the room.
"I am doing well." Was all Emmett could say.
"Glad to hear that." He responded, but Emmett could see that he wanted to say something else.
"So, what do you want to talk about?" He questioned curiously after a while of staying silent.
"I have a confession to make, Emmett but before I commit something impulsively, I need to make sure that you are in the right state of mind." Arthur elaborated, eyes carefully gauging his reaction.
"I don't understand."
"Are you feeling well?"
"Yes, I am. Is something the matter?"
"Do you remember anything about yesternight's events?" Arthur couldn't help but ask finally from a befuddled Emmett.
"Well, I...I was told that I had a panic attack in the Lemon Lake, and he saved me." Emmett answered, subconsciously reflecting onto Thomas' words from today.
"Who had saved you?" Arthur asked with knowing eyes.
"No one. I might be overthinking things but I do have a question to ask you, Arthur." Emmett was quick to deflect, he couldn't exactly tell someone about him.
"What is it?"
"Why did you lie about yourself?"
"Lie?" Arthur narrowed his eyes in confusion, he never had lied about himself.
"You had told me at Gloria's Diner that you worked as a school counsellor, but clearly, that does not seem to be the case now, does it?" Emmett acknowledged.
"Technically, Emmett, I did not lie, I was simply answering your question regarding my occupation and it seemed to be the best choice then, especially given your state of mind." Arthur sighed as he reminisced their meeting.
"State of mind, can you elaborate?" Emmett blurted out, a bit desperate to know what he wanted to insinuate.
"Emmett, please listen to me carefully, and try to comprehend this to the best your ability, okay? I know it will be hard given your situation, to come to terms with the reality but you have to listen, if not for me then at least for your family and for yourself, can you do that?" Arthur eyed him hesitatingly, for he wasn't so sure about his feelings given his quiet state.
"I am confused, Arthur. May I request you to get to the point?" Emmett quipped with an underlying irritation.
"Indeed. How should I word this, son but you are suffering from a mental disorder wherein, you hallucinate and your mind conjures up these realistic scenarios that you presume to be your reality when they are, just a fallacy created from the depths of your delusions and possibly triggered by a psychological cause, especially in your case, which is riddled with trauma and guilt. It can be cured, but it is entirely up to you, Emmett and my words, wouldn't make any sense to you until I help you in remembering certain aspects of your story." He confessed, hands twitching in apparent hesitation.
"What is it called?" He asked calmly, much to his surprise.
"Delusional Disorder or Psychosis. But you do not need to know more, for it can be nerve-wracking and we cannot afford to have that. Emmett, do you understand?" He pressed him, seemingly analysing his reaction.
"Understand? Understand? This is ridiculous, do you know that? I never expected you to be the cause for my unhappiness, Arthur. You simply have presumed and prescribed me with these tablets based on a diagnosis that is not even correct, and you expect me to believe you? Please, I beg of you, leave me alone, I do not want to talk to you." Emmett demanded frustrated at the man and his absurd charges.
"It will be fine, son. I know you wouldn't understand hence I have something with me that could, maybe persuade you to a certain degree."
"Lying is not a virtue that I had expected from you to exhibit, Doctor." Emmett seethed, biting his lip harshly.
"Emmett, please, I am not lying to you, I can never do that." Arthur desperately made the claim.
"You are exceptionally revered, Arthur. I have observed that but you have betrayed the trust that I had in you, too and if you think that you can present me with fictional theories regarding the reason for my underlying panic attacks, then you are highly mistaken because I am not to be fooled with an oblivious person." He stated, arguably posing as an adult with his composure.
"Emmett, just take a look at these pictures, please. I am not lying to you, I have no reason to do that, whatsoever." He pleaded, shuffling through his coat pockets for the pictures he had snapped as evidence.
"I will be the judge of that."
"Before you lose your temper, Emmett. Let me explain to you when and where these photos were taken-"
"There is no need for that, I clearly remember this one to be from the Glamis Castle, and this is of the Lemon Lake, but it proves nothing, Arthur. I do not know what you are trying to show me but I can see that you have been relentlessly stalking me, may I know why?" He observed, squinting to see his silhouette against the golden light of the Sun that had engulfed them on that day.
"Do you remember the cherry red car, the one that you took to see the castle?" He asked out of the blue.
"Yes, what of it?" Emmett absentmindedly asked as he looked through the pictures, taken from different angles.
"It was mine, Emmett. The car belongs to me, and you had stolen it that day, in pursuit of some wild adventure." Arthur affirmed, making Emmett look at him.
"That is outrageous, it belonged to-" He started, enraged by the insinuation.
"It belonged to him, the stranger didn't it?" Arthur reasoned.
"Yes but how did you-" Emmett began but was interrupted
"Emmett, please give me a second to explain it to you. You had assumed it to be his car, because of your delusions but it was you, who had stolen it in reality. The car was parked opposite to Gloria's Diner, and before I could approach you, you had taken off to some strange direction. Thinking that you were a thief, I had decided to follow your lead with the help of a friend, who, out of the goodwill of his heart, lent me with his car. I followed after you and luckily, I had my phone with me. But as a therapist, I was compelled to watch you foremost from a distance. I could've approached you, but I didn't instead, I saw you talking, smiling and even admiring something that I couldn't see. Moreover, the guard of the castle wanted to talk to you, but I had to stop him because you wouldn't listen to reason, I could see that. I have been following your trail ever since then and those photos that you see, Emmett, are of you, and only you, there is no one around, can't you see that?" He described the events, urging him to understand.
"These have obviously been photoshopped, I have no particular reason to believe you, Arthur but a word of advice, your story-telling skills extremely suck, better luck next time." He commented, blatantly throwing away the pictures to the tiled floor.
"Emmett-"
"PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE!" He screamed, eyes wild and watering in defeat.
"Very well, Emmett but you have to face the truth, and I will make sure that you do because if you are determined to believe in the truth that you see, then I am firm in my decision to save you. Also, son, I have never lied to you, I might have resorted to such downgrading means by stalking you but it was only out of my concern for you. If I had to drag you here, to this very facility that I build from my hard work, then I could've done it whenever, but I didn't because you are more than a patient to me, Emmett, you are like a friend and a son to me. I hope you would reflect on this. Have a good night." With that, he sternly got up and left him solitary with his thoughts.
Disgruntled, discontented and in utter disbelief over the current predicament, Emmett was in a disarray of emotions that resurfaced like a river-stream, relishing in his angst and pain that he couldn't help but dwell in. What if it was the truth? What if it was all but a dream that he had the misfortune to see and feel? Yet it wasn't something that made complete sense, he thought as he reminisced about the relevant moments' remnant receding over the scorching flames of his heart's ache that resulted into a demented disharmony in between his thoughts, consulting his love.
"It couldn't be, it couldn't be. My feelings were authentic to touch and feel his shadow. How can it be caused by some delusion dream?" He mused, shaking his head as he silently sobbed against his fluffed pillow.
Images fluently flashed before his eyes of the stranger, haunting memoranda of his smile and the sentient tide of his psyche, resembled him of a deity, blessed and disguised to altercate his life into a blissful abyss of dementia, deeming it to be rather a curse than a stroke of wistful luck. This tidal change in his demeanour was the artwork of the Doctor, he scorned, fists clutching the bedsheets in lucid agony, as his words enraged a fury within him that he felt to be overwhelming his senses.
"I believe in my love, I believe in him. I wouldn't dare to lose him. I wouldn't-" He began but was interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Emmett?"
"Tommy. What are you doing here?" He asked, whilst wiping off the remnants of his tears as he faced him.
"I wanted to check in with you." He told him softly.
"I am fine, I do not need you to babysit me." He stated, exhausted beyond belief with their concern.
"Emmett, please-" Thomas started.
"I said I am fine, leave me alone Tommy, I can see it on your face, you believe him too, it is clear to me, so please leave if you are going to lecture me about how it is unreal and delusional." Emmett swiftly pointed out before aggressively looking away.
"Boo Bear, I cannot begin to understand the pain you must be going through but give me a chance to make it somewhat better for you. Am I allowed to do that?" He asked.
"There is nothing in the world that can take away this heartache that I feel, but I wouldn't stop you from trying to dull it down, Tommy," Emmett responded quietly.
"Thank you, little brother. I have brought something for you."
"What is it?"
"See for yourself, you might not even remember it but I do because it has always provided me with a permanent consolation ever since our childhood days." He nodded his head in confirmation.
"I remember this drawing, and these words as well. But how could it provide you with strength?" He scrunched his face, trying to comprehend the reason as to why it could mean so much to him.
"Emmett, you drew me a spider-man. You pointed to me with your chubby fingers that you look up to me, and the colours, they shined so bright in your eyes like sparkles of hope and admiration that I, couldn't help but hold onto this memory. Maybe I want to try and become someone better so that I can protect you from the world, but I can see that I have failed you, yet every time I look at this drawing, I get reminded of the light you possessed that day, still do and it has offered me with a rare comfort, that I cannot word it properly without stuttering in between, but I want you to have it, just to remind you of who you are and mean to me, baby bro." He explained, his words shattering Emmett's hostility as he slowly flipped the page to his drawing.
"T-his has been poorly coloured and drawn though." He stated with a chuckle rubbing his eyes to focus on the drawing.
"It is the thought that counts, Emmett." Thomas reprimanded.
"I understand but I am not a hero, Tommy. I am pathetic and according to what Arthur has insinuated earlier, insane, so I do not deserve to be labelled as some protagonist, because I am simply not fit to play this part." He exclaimed tiredly.
"You are not insane, Emmett. I understand your opinion regarding this matter, but let me tell you something, you are courageously brave, I have always envied you for that, you know? When I look at you, I see someone who is fit to be a legend, and you must be wondering why I think like that but it is what I see because of your aspirations and dreams. Moreover, you have been too inclined towards your goals, and despite the failures, you never had any qualms in picking yourself up from the concrete, did you? This makes you out to be extremely brave, brother and you are a hero, in your own quirky way, and I admire you, we all do." His words soothed his psyche, as he seemed to be at a loss for words.
"Mum and Dad do not share the same opinions as you, Tommy." He said after some time, scoffing at the thought of them.
"If that was the case, then they wouldn't be here to support you, Emmett."
"T-they are here?"
"Yes, they are. And they want to desperately apologise to you for their actions but it all depends on you, brother. Forgiveness is something that seems to be a hassle especially when you dislike someone's misplaced interest in your ambitions and mistake it for their love when they are unable to understand you, but I know that you can find it in you to do what you find to be just." Thomas described, clearly providing Emmett with a choice but he was hesitant.
Could he face them after all this time?
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