Rayne hung up, trembling lightly. Nollen had called her but it wasn’t Nollen. No, it wasn’t her Nollen. He’d gone missing and Rayne, for obvious reasons, couldn’t put out an APB for him. So when she got the call from him, she had not expected what had been on the other line. She was scared. She was hesitant about going, his words echoing in her ears, a ghostly throbbing to her wrist where Nollen had hurt her over seven months ago after Becky and Chuck’s wedding.
She reached down to rub her right wrist and jumped from the cold material on her finger. She looked down at the engagement ring and her decision was made.
She pulled out her laptop and tracked the GPS on the phone Nollen had been using. She could only ever hope she got there on time. When she got everything she needed, she headed out, speeding when she could and going as fast as the law would let her whenever she passed highways with heavy amounts of troopers. Eventually she arrived at a hospital and without hesitation, she went to find the psych ward and asked for Nollen. Wringing her hands together, she followed the nurse to the room he was staying in, hair pulled back in a pony tail and tucked into her shirt so that no one could pull on it. The nurse opened the door and Rayne stepped in, thanking the nurse.
“…Nollen?”
They had given Nollen back his paint set so he could ‘express his feelings’ big mistake. He had covered the walls of his room with dark designs, most of them integrating large golden eyes, the ones that haunted his dreams. They had not touched him, considering he started growling like an angry dog whenever anyone came near him.
Nollen sat in the middle of his decorated room, his hands were splattered with paint of all colors. His hair fell onto his shoulders, unkempt, he also had what could almost be considered a beard covering his face. As he sat, knees pulled up to his chest, he rocked back and forth slowly. He murmured soft nothings to himself, trying to keep the noise going so the voices couldn’t snake back into his mind.
Nollen?
A soft sweet voice came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. It brought him back to life, his eyes springing to look at the open door, a beautiful woman stood in front of it. His beautiful woman.
“R…r…” His voice croaked, he wasn’t used to talking so loud, “Rayne, I..I missed you..I think. No, I know. I feel it, Rayney, it’s not pain it’s happy. Happy like a little bird. Until it falls from it’s neck and cracks it head open on the pavement” The last sentence was murmured as his rocking continued. He was so out of sorts he couldn’t stop murmuring or rocking. It kept him almost sane.
(Source: screams-in-the-hell, via scream-in-the-hell)
(Source: severed-heads, via 500daysofblogging)
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(Source: idonotbelieveinanything, via 500daysofblogging)
(Source: col0ur-blind, via 500daysofblogging)
(via 500daysofblogging)
I am broken, I have been sliced to pieces. My head is no longer a top my shoulders, it ran away years ago.
Maybe the sadness has taken over, maybe the death has gotten to me.
I am not insane
I am not insane
I am NOT insane.
That’s what you think, Precious.
I’m not crazy, only crazy people are crazy, right?
I’m not crazy
Not crazy.
NOT CRAZY.
(Source: alexinyourhead, via 500daysofblogging)
